🍽️ 51: The Mister at the Lo Cascio Table

💼 Dinner with the Name Everyone Knows

There are difficult fixtures, and then there is this: a Friday night on a side street off Via Libertà, outside an unmarked restaurant everyone in Palermo somehow knows, straightening your jacket because you’re about to meet the man whose surname sits in the background of half the city’s stories.

Jacques Huber arrives ten minutes early. Of course he does.

The first thing he notices isn’t the door, but the car: a dark SUV pulled tight to the kerb, engine off, windows tinted. Two men in dark suits stand nearby, hands in pockets, not talking, just watching the street. Not quite police, not quite anything you can name. When Huber steps inside, one of them lifts his eyes long enough to clock him, then goes back to scanning the pavement.

Inside, a waiter who definitely knows who he is leads him to a small private room at the back. White tablecloth, frosted glass, a single window onto the street where those two figures are now just shadowy silhouettes. Francesca is already there. Quick kiss, softer than usual.

“He’s on his way,” she says. “And those outside are just… precaution.”

“Against what?”

She shrugs. “Palermo.”

📩 The Invitation

Three days earlier, the whole thing had dropped into the week like a bad email.

“Papà wants to have dinner,” she’d said one evening after training. “You, me, him. Nothing formal.”

When Huber mentioned it at the training ground, Dario Mirri’s reaction was very small and very clear: a pause, an eyebrow, and then a measured, “It’s good you meet. Just remember you’re the head coach of Palermo in every room, not just the dugout.” Everyone knows who Salvatore Lo Cascio is: the businessman, the hospitality guy, and the name that keeps drifting through old Mafia-related investigations without ever landing in a verdict.

Saying no would have been louder than saying yes. So here he is.

🕴️ The First Half

Salvatore arrives without announcement, but not alone.

The two men from the street come in first, scanning the room with that professional stillness that says security without anyone needing to introduce them. One takes up position just outside the private room door; the other hovers near the entrance to the restaurant, eyes on anyone who lingers too long. Then Salvatore walks in, tailored suit, easy smile, the kind of presence that fills a doorway without raising his voice. He kisses his daughter warmly, turns to Huber, and offers a hand.

“Mister,” he says. “Finally. The man who made my city loud again.”

They sit. The first fifteen minutes are small talk: Inter at the Barbera, the Europa League qualification, Turconi’s left foot, Hassan at AFCON. Salvatore jokes that twenty years ago he’d tried to “buy the team”; Huber answers that it’s better for Francesca he isn’t the sporting director. Everybody laughs. Even the man outside the door seems to relax as the evening progresses. Then the conversation moves into a different part.

“In a city like this,” Salvatore says, swirling his wine, “life is easier when everyone pulls in the same direction. Friends in the council, friends in the curva, friends at the club.” He looks at Huber as he says it. Not threatening, just weighing him.

“In my work,” Huber replies, “the only direction is the game. I listen to many people. But in the end, I decide alone.” There’s a small pause. Francesca watches both of them.

Then Salvatore smiles again. “Bene,” he says. “A coach must be the boss.” The waiter arrives with pasta like a well-timed clearance.

📸 The Photo That Almost Doesn’t Happen

Halfway through the main course, the door to the restaurant opens and two teenagers in Palermo shirts hesitate in the entrance. One of the security men is there instantly, not aggressive, just… present. A quick word, a glance back to the private room. A moment later, the boys are waved through.

“Mister, scusi… una foto?” They’re looking only at Huber. Not at Francesca, not at the man whose security just screened them, just the coach eating his tagliatelle.

Huber steps out into the doorway, smiles, poses, cracks the usual line about “don’t blame me if we lose next week now.” As they back away, one murmurs, “Buona sera, signor Lo Cascio,” towards the room, the other keeps staring at the manager.

When Huber sits back down, Salvatore is watching him with a measuring look. “You’re more famous than some people who have been powerful here a very long time,” he says.

“For Palermo, that’s good,” Huber replies. “If the story stays about the team, my life is easier.” Francesca hides a smile behind her glass. Salvatore’s eyes soften briefly as he looks at his daughter.

"You should know,” he adds, voice lower now, “people can say what they like about me. I don’t care. But if they hurt her, I care very much.” It’s not a threat. Not exactly. More like a line laid gently on the table.

Huber meets his gaze. “On that,” he says, “we agree completely.”

💬 The Real Question

Coffee arrives with small pastries that nobody really touches. Conversation drifts through Como, TV rights, away days in England. Then Salvatore leans back. “How long do you think you can keep this going?” he asks. “Turconi, Tzimas, Europe. Before the big clubs take what they want?”

“It isn’t a miracle,” Huber says. “It’s work. We know the market is watching. But every season we stay together, we grow. The more we grow, the more we choose our own future.”

“You really believe Palermo can say no,” Salvatore says quietly.

“I believe Palermo can say ‘not yet’,” Huber replies. “And if one day we say yes, it will be on our terms. No one else’s.” 

A beat of silence, then the faintest approving nod. “Bene. That’s all I needed to hear,” Salvatore says. He hesitates, then adds one more.

“And when a big club comes for you, Mister? Not for Turconi, not for Tzimas. For Huber.”

Francesca looks down at her cup. Jacques doesn’t. “If that day comes,” he says, “I’ll ask myself one question: is Palermo finished with me, or are we still climbing together? Right now, we are still climbing.”

“So you stay,” Salvatore says.

“I stay,” Huber answers. “Until the job is done. And maybe even then.” Francesca exhales and smiles warmly at her father.

🚶‍♂️ After the Whistle

Just after midnight, they step back out into the cool Palermo air. The SUV is still there, engine running now. One of the security men opens the car door without being told. Salvatore kisses his daughter on both cheeks, shakes Huber’s hand once more and gets in. The car pulls away, the shadows on the pavement disappearing with it. 

Walking towards the main road, Francesca links her arm through Huber’s. “So,” she says. “You survived.”

“He was… different than I expected,” Huber admits. “Warm, but with a lot of questions.”

“You thought he’d demand to pick the team?”

“No… I don’t know really what I expected,” he says.

She glances at him. “Does your club know about tonight?”

“I told them,” he says. “And I’ll tell them only what matters.”

She huffs a small laugh. “Romantic,” she teases. “Palermo first, as always.”

👉 Next Up: Juve, Snow, and a Coppa Italia Quarter-Final. From private rooms and stern words back to the noise: after dinner with Salvatore Lo Cascio, Huber’s world recentres on the pitch. A gritty trip to Turin, a snow-swept slog in Udine and a Coppa Italia quarter-final against Fiorentina await. Has the bad form really passed, or will the schedule again prove too much for Huber and the Rosanero?

❄️ 52: Juve, Snow and the Lecce Curse

🥶From Private Rooms to Cold Nights

Dinner with Salvatore Lo Cascio was one kind of pressure. What followed was the more familiar one: buses, hotel meeting rooms, and ninety-minute exams every three days. Palermo emerged from this stretch with some of their best away performances of the season, but also a brutal cup exit, and another reminder that Lecce were apparently put on this earth to ruin Huber’s mood.

Matchday 23 — Como 1–2 Palermo (A)

In a meeting of Serie A’s new European darlings, Como struck first when Nico Paz nipped in to poke them ahead on 27 minutes, finishing off a neat move after Palermo switched off at the edge of their own box. Huber’s side responded well, though, and on 40’ a clever, rehearsed free-kick routine ended with Stefanos Tzimas sweeping home the equaliser. 

Just after the restart Palermo flipped the game on its head: Cauan Baptistella and Marco Turconi combined sharply on the break, Turconi sliding a low finish into the corner on 47’ to make it 2–1. From there it became a tight, open contest with chances at both ends, but Palermo defended their box with far more authority than in recent weeks and held on for a valuable away win.

Coppa Italia Quarter-Final — Palermo 0–2 Fiorentina (H)

A brutal night where everything but the finishing worked. Palermo started brightly and should have led, with both Tzimas and Turconi missing huge early chances before Robin Gosens punished them on 15 minutes, exploding a ridiculous long-range strike into the top corner with Fiorentina’s only shot of the half. Huber’s side created chance after chance but somehow went in 1–0 down at the break, and after half-time Fiorentina improved, even rattling the bar while Kepa Arrizabalaga kept producing saves at the other end. The killer blow came on 88’, when Osawe rose to head in a Fiorentina free-kick and seal a 2–0 defeat that knocked Palermo out of the cup. It was a devastating exit built entirely on wasted opportunities.

Matchday 24 — Juventus 0–2 Palermo (A)

In Turin, Palermo produced maybe their most mature away performance of the season. They struck first on 9 minutes when Pierre Kalulu turned a low Yeremay cross into his own net, then settled into a compact shape, happy to sit off and hit Juventus on the break. The hosts saw plenty of the ball but struggled to carve out clear chances against a disciplined back line. The killer moment came on 53’, after a bout of scrappy pinball in the box: 17-year-old left-back Fateh Adjaoud reacted quickest to a loose ball and lashed in his first ever senior goal to make it 2–0. From there Palermo managed the game calmly, closing out a statement win that felt a long way from the chaos of earlier in the season.

Matchday 25 — Palermo 1–1 Bologna (H)

Back at the Barbera, Palermo welcomed Ferran Quetglás back between the posts for his first game since injury and started with intent. On 15 minutes Marco Turconi opened the scoring, drifting into space on the edge of the box and drilling a low shot into the bottom corner. Huber’s side controlled most of the first half and Turconi came close to a second after the break, rattling the post with another effort from range. But the failure to kill the game proved costly: on 77’ Santiago Castro rose highest in the area to nod home Bologna’s equaliser. It finished 1–1, a solid performance and another point, but tinged with frustration after letting a good position slip.

Matchday 26 — Udinese 1–3 Palermo (A)

In the snow of Udine, Palermo handled the conditions far better than the hosts. Haissem Hassan pounced on a sloppy pass across the back line on 24 minutes and calmly slotted home for 1–0, and on 36’ Stefanos Tzimas doubled the lead with a well-placed header to finish off a flowing move. Just before the break Benjamín Domínguez caught Palermo on the counter to make it 2–1 on 43’, and the mood darkened further when Tzimas was forced off injured with sprained ankle ligaments, sidelined for 3–5 weeks. Udinese pushed in the second half, but on 85’ Filippo Ranocchia arrived perfectly onto a cut-back to restore the two-goal cushion and seal a 3–1 win, easing the pressure on a night that could easily have gone sideways.

Matchday 27 — Palermo 1–2 Lecce (H)

With Tzimas injured, Marco Turconi led the line and Palermo dominated early, only to be stunned on 22 minutes when Ylber Ramadani unleashed a 25-yard rocket into the top corner. Huber’s side kept piling on pressure and finally levelled just after the break, Cauan Baptistella turning in a low Haissem Hassan cross on 49’. 

The rest of the half was a siege of the Lecce box, chances coming and going, before disaster struck at the death: in the 90th minute Lecce lumped a hopeful ball forward and a horrible mix-up between Quetglás and Chadi Riad left Amine El Ouazzani free to roll the ball into an empty net. A 2–1 defeat, and another infuriating chapter in Palermo’s habit of finding new ways to lose to Lecce.

📊 League Snapshot: Edging, Not Sprinting

Despite the cup exit and the Lecce sucker punch, Palermo remain where they’ve been for weeks: in the pack for Europe, but not clear of it. After 27 games they sit 6th, with Napoli a point ahead and Fiorentina and Lazio just a point behind. One good week propels them back towards the Champions League conversation; one bad one drops them into the traffic.

The sense around the Barbera is of a season finely balanced: capable of going somewhere historic, equally capable of drifting back into “nearly”. With the Europa League Knockouts on the horizon and Tzimas in the treatment room, the next stretch will say a lot about which way it breaks.

🎲 Europa League Draw: Monaco Awaits

Somewhere between the Gosens thunderbolt and Adjaoud’s moment in Turin, UEFA’s draw machine in Nyon spat out Palermo’s next European exam: Monaco in the Europa League round of 16. A glamourous and talent-heavy side built for transition football. In the offices at the Barbera, the reaction was muted: not the worst draw, not the easiest, exactly the kind of tie that shows whether Palermo are just happy guests at Europe’s table or starting to belong there.

👉 Next Up: Futures in Pink. The fixture list hasn’t eased and the table is still tight, but behind the noise something more long-term is taking shape. Next, we step away from Monaco, Juve and Lecce to walk through the academy gates: first-year scholars, surprise breakthroughs born from an injury crisis, and a closer look at how Turconi, Baptistella, Adjaoud and Faedda are turning Palermo’s present into a very different future.

👚 53: Futures in Pink

🌱 Youth, Minutes and a New Shape

Some seasons are defined by trophies, some by tables. This one, somewhere between the Europa League nights and the injury lists, is also being defined by who is growing up in the pink shirt and who might wear it next.

This is a mid-season check-in on Palermo’s pipeline: from first-year scholars to the kids thrown in because there was simply nobody else left.

🎓 First-Year Scholars: Names to Learn

The latest youth intake at the Palermo City Football Academy doesn’t arrive with fireworks, but there are a couple of files on Huber’s desk that have been underlined in thick pen.

Andrea Nania – GK, 15 (Catanzaro, Calabria)
A 6ft goalkeeper at fifteen is always going to get a second look, but Nania is not defined by his height. Already showing sharp reflexes and clean handling, he looks like someone who’s been catching balls in backyards since he could walk. The hope inside the academy is simple: if he keeps growing, literally and figuratively, Palermo might have the long-term successor to Quetglás somewhere down the corridor.

Iacopo Longo – CM, 16 (Messina, Sicily)
At 5'5", Longo is the opposite profile: small, wiry, and already playing football like, he’s been told he’s too short for it. His technical game needs time, but the mentality jumps off the page. His great work rate, positioning, aggression, means he has all the little things that make coaches trust you. If his body and his touch catch up with his brain, Palermo might have unearthed a nasty, clever little midfielder tailor-made for Huber’s pressing ideas.

These kids are a long way from the Barbera lights, but they’re the newest dots on the map of what Palermo might look like three, four seasons from now.

📈 Minutes Forced, Steps Forward

Injuries, AFCON, suspensions, and fatigue. If there’s a way to lose a player, Palermo have experienced it this winter. The upside is that others have been thrown in the deep end and thus been dragged forward faster than planned.

Cauan Baptistella – RW, 20 (Benvento, Campania)
Born in Benevento, raised in Brazil, and now properly announced in Sicily. Baptistella has adapted to Serie A and European football at impressive speed: With 9 goals and 9 assists in all competitions and an average rating of 7.02. He’s rotated well across both flanks and given Palermo another direct runner in transition. He has started to look less like “the young kid who came from Cruzeiro” and more like a guaranteed name on Huber’s teamsheet.

Fateh Adjaoud – LB, 18 (Algeria and France)
Signed as a project, pressed into action as a solution. The young Algerian left-back has been asked to cover for Honest Ahanor more often than expected and has done so with growing confidence. The numbers, 6.72 average rating, don’t tell the whole story: Adjaoud has already scored his first goal for the club, and his recovery pace and acceleration have repeatedly bailed Palermo out when the line has been broken. Raw, yes, but clearly on the right track.

Leonardo Faedda – RW, 18 (Castelvetrano, Sicily)
Still chasing that first senior goal but steadily carving out minutes in the rotation. The Sicilian forward has 3 starts and 20 appearances off the bench, averaging 6.69, and every week looks a little more comfortable at this level. Used mainly as a winger rather than as a nine, Faedda’s development is a slow burn, but his willingness to run, press and crash the far post fits the identity Huber wants.

Marco Turconi – AM, 18 (Palermo, Sicily)
The headline act. Freshly turned eighteen and already cemented as a starter, Turconi has gone from a wonderful curiosity to centrepiece in one season. With 13 goals, 6 assists and an average rating of 7.17, he’s now the player opponents talk about in prematch meetings. The frightening part, inside the club, is how much room they still think he has to improve, physically, tactically, and even emotionally, after the shush to the Inter fans and the groin strain that followed.

🎮 Next Gen: Europe Takes Notice

If there was any doubt that Palermo’s kids were on the wider radar, the Next Gen list settled it.

• Marco Turconi – 2nd place
• Christian Comotto – 3rd place

Two Palermo players on the podium of Europe’s most-watched youngsters is more than a nice graphic for social media. It’s a confirmation of how far the club has come in a short time, as well as a warning that other sporting directors have their notebooks, and maybe soon their chequebooks, open.

🧠 Tactics: Growing Pains, Grown-Up Shape

The human cost of the schedule has forced a tactical evolution. In the early months, Palermo tried to play every game at full volume; the winter proved that approach unsustainable.

Huber has quietly shifted the team back into last season’s deeper, more counter-attacking shape, defending a little lower, sprinting a little less, and trusting the front four to do damage when the space appears. It suits players like Baptistella, Hassan and Turconi perfectly, and takes some physical load off a squad that has often looked a couple of injuries away from collapse.

The hope is that a more controlled out-of-possession style now will yield the best results, whilst they await a summer window aimed at adding the depth needed to let Palermo compete on multiple fronts.

🔮 What Comes Next

From Nania and Longo in the academy to Faedda on the bench and Turconi under European glare, Palermo’s future feels more joined-up than it has in years. The club is no longer just surviving season to season; it’s starting to build layers.

There will of course be offers and difficult conversations in the summer. But for now, the picture is simple:

• the first-year scholars have profiles that fit the model,
• the next line of youngsters are getting real minutes,
• and the brightest Palermo talents are already being ranked alongside Europe’s best.

For a club that once watched Europe on TV, that might be the biggest win of all: Palermo are not just in the present tense anymore. They’re beginning, slowly, to write their future.

👉 Next Up: Margins in March. After mapping the future in pink, the focus snaps back to the present tense: a two-legged chess match with Monaco decided in stoppage time, a bruising trip to the San Siro, Roma punished and rescued by long-range strikes, and a four-goal reckoning with Cremonese that wipes away the worst result of Huber’s tenure. All while the race for Europe tightens around Palermo’s throat.

⚖️ 54: Margins in March: Monaco, Milan and Revenge

The kids are signed to their first professional contracts, and the next generation are included in future planning. Now comes the hard part: actually winning games while they grow. This stretch is all about margins. There are late goals in Monaco, small lapses against Milan and Roma, and one cathartic hammering of Cremonese to wash away earlier sins of the seasons.

⚽️ Tight Games, Tight Table

Europa League — Round of 16, First Leg — Monaco 2–1 Palermo (A)

Palermo went to the Principality with a clear plan: sit deeper, let Monaco have the ball and hurt them in transition. It worked early on, Marco Turconi slipping Christian Comotto through on 29 minutes to drill a low finish across the keeper for 0–1, and although Monaco dominated possession, the better chances before the break arrived for those in pink. The hosts improved after half-time, forcing Ferran Quetglás into a string of saves before Eduard Spertsyan finally escaped Mariano Troilo and levelled on 64’. Monaco kept pushing and, deep into stoppage time, heartbreak: on 90+4, Ilies Belmokhtar, the half-time substitute, smashed in a loose ball to turn the tie around in favour of Monaco. A 2–1 defeat, painful given the game plan, but a scoreline that still leaves everything to fight for back at the Barbera.

Matchday 28 — Atalanta 1–1 Palermo (A)

Wedged between the two Monaco legs, this was always going to be a grind, and a slightly rotated Palermo side were punished early when Gianluca Scamacca finished off a gorgeous Atalanta passing move on 6 minutes. Huber’s team grew into the game later in the half, carving out a few chances without finding the finish, and after the break Atalanta again started strongly before the momentum slowly tilted back Palermo’s way. The equaliser finally came on 77’, fittingly from a former Atalanta man: Honest Ahanor rose highest from a free-kick to nod home his first ever Palermo goal and make it 1–1. Palermo pushed for a late winner but couldn’t quite find it, settling for a hard-earned point in the middle of a brutal schedule.

Europa League — Round of 16, Second Leg — Palermo 2–0 Monaco (H)

Under the Barbera lights, Palermo produced a famous European night by flipping the tie on its head. It started chaotically: on 3 minutes Maghnes Akliouche hauled down Christian Comotto in the box, only for Yeremay to see his penalty saved. The Spanish winger made amends on 35’, skinning his man down the left and drilling a low shot into the bottom corner to level the tie on aggregate, even as Monaco dominated possession and carried a constant threat around the box.

The second half grew cagier, Huber’s side sitting a little deeper and waiting for one more moment, and it arrived on 78 minutes when two substitutes combined: Antonio Palumbo slipped a clever pass into Jérémy Le Douaron, who slotted calmly past the keeper for 2–0 on the night. Monaco threw everything forward in the closing stages, but Palermo held firm to overturn the 2–1 first-leg deficit and book their place in the Europa League quarter-finals in front of a delirious home crowd.

The reward from the draw bowl: Aston Villa in the quarters – one of the favourites for the competition, and another test of just how far this project has come.

Matchday 29 — Milan 2–0 Palermo (A)

With Stefanos Tzimas back in the squad for the first time since injury, Palermo went to San Siro and got dragged into a tight, cagey affair. The first 45 minutes produced few chances for either side, and the pattern barely changed after the break, both teams struggling to carve out anything truly clear. Then on 71 minutes Álex Jiménez broke the deadlock with a long-range strike that flew past Quetglás, and the game slipped away almost immediately: just two minutes later, Francesco Camarda added a second to make it 2–0. Milan saw it out comfortably, and Palermo left with nothing from a night that for a long time had looked like it might at least bring a point.

Matchday 30 — Palermo 1–1 Roma (H)

The first half at the Barbera swung back and forth without either side landing a clean punch, and it felt like one of those nights that would be decided by a moment, good or bad. On 78 minutes it was the latter, Mateo Lisica stepped up and buried a long-range strike continuing Palermo’s worrying recent habit of being punished from distance. Huber’s side threw everything forward late on, with Stefanos Tzimas smacking the post as time ticked away, but in stoppage time salvation arrived: on 90+3 Jacopo Segre unleashed a wonder strike of his own from the edge of the box to make it 1–1. A hard-earned point, but another reminder of how costly those shots from range are becoming.

Matchday 31 — Palermo 4–0 Cremonese (H)

Huber got his revenge. After the 5–2 humiliation in Cremona earlier in the season, Palermo came out with bad intentions and dominated from the first whistle, holding Cremonese to zero shots in the first half. The breakthrough came on 31 minutes when Honest Ahanor arrived late in the box to calmly slot home the opener, and just after the break Haissem Hassan curled in a lovely second on 48’. Four minutes later Stefanos Tzimas pounced on a defensive error to make it 3–0 on 52’, killing any chance of a repeat of the chaos from the reverse fixture. In stoppage time Giacomo Corona added a fourth on 90’, sealing a statement 4–0 win and wiping away the ugliest result of Huber’s Palermo tenure.

📸 League Snapshot: Chasing the Pack

The table isn’t cruel, but it’s not kind either. After 31 games, Palermo have slipped to 7th, sitting 1 point behind Lazio and 2 behind Bologna in the congested race for Europe. One run of form either way will decide whether this season is remembered as a step backward or a step forward in Huber’s climb. And now, somewhere between that fight and the league’s long memory, waits Aston Villa, and a chance to turn tight margins into real history.

👉 Next Up: On Fumes, a Quarter Final Clash. The schedule tightens, the legs go heavy and the margins shrink, but Palermo keep swinging: a bruising first leg at Villa Park, Turconi limping into the treatment room, a draining six-pointer in Rome against Lazio and then, somehow, a rain-soaked Barbera night where a tired, patched XI attempt to overcome the odds stacked against them.

🔥 55: On Fumes — The Quarter-Finals

🌍 Aston Villa, Lazio and One Ridiculous Night at the Barbera

By April, Palermo are running on whatever comes after empty. The calendar has turned into a blur of hotels and recovery sessions, and yet somehow, right in the middle of that fatigue, Huber’s team find one of the biggest performances in the club’s modern history.

🇬🇧 Europa League Quarter-Final, 1st Leg — Aston Villa 1–1 Palermo (A)

Thursday night at Villa Park felt like one of those games Palermo have spent over a decade trying to earn again. English crowd in full voice, claret and blue flags everywhere, Brendan Rodgers prowling his technical area, and a Palermo side preparing for yet another three-games-in-a-week run. Huber’s hand was forced. Haissem Hassan only made the bench after bruising his foot in training, Aarón Anselmino was also out, and the XI had the slightly improvised look that has become familiar this year. From the first whistle it showed. Villa dominated the early exchanges, pinning Palermo deep without quite slicing them open. Full-backs high, wingers running at their men, pink shirts struggling to string two passes together. As a result the first big warning came when Evan Guessand sent a free header wide when he should have at least tested Ferran Quetglás.

On 15 minutes came the moment that silenced the away bench. Marco Turconi stretched for a loose ball, pulled up, and instinctively grabbed at his groin. For a few seconds it looked like disaster. He grimaced, tested the leg, and signalled that he could carry on. Huber stood with arms folded, weighing up the cost of losing his best playmaker in a European quarter-final. Turconi stayed on, moving slightly tighter, but still knitting play together. Everyone knew the scans would tell the real story later. The rest of the half consisted of a lot of suffering. Palermo could barely get out, every attempted counter smothered by Villa’s press. Yet for all the territorial dominance, Quetglás wasn’t overwhelmed: crosses were cleared, shots were blocked, final balls slightly overhit. At 0–0, Palermo jogged down the tunnel looking more relieved than anything else.

Early in the second half, the whole tie flipped on a single action. Palermo finally found some oxygen, Yeremay wriggling half a yard on the left and whipping in a wicked, flat cross. Stefanos Tzimas darted across Ezri Konsa, got goal-side and was bundled over as he tried to reach it. The referee pointed straight to the spot. Villa Park whistled, Tzimas ignored it. On 51 minutes he rolled the penalty into the corner, the keeper sent the wrong way, Palermo 1–0 up after spending most of the night pinned to their own box. The away end went berserk; on the touchline Huber’s celebration was just a clenched fist and a bark towards his bench, already thinking about the next phase.

Villa reacted instantly. Morgan Rogers cut inside and dragged a huge chance just past the far post, and the pressure rose again. Midway through the half, Palermo thought they’d stolen an enormous advantage when Tzimas broke the line again, finished calmly and wheeled away in celebration, only for the flag to go up. Offside. Tight, but it was the right decision. As legs faded, Villa increased the tempo, cheered on by the home crowd. On 80 minutes, Harvey Elliott slipped into the box and shaped to shoot; Chadi Riad mistimed his challenge, clipped him, and the referee gave the second penalty of the night. Elliott smashed it past Quetglás for 1–1. The final minutes were all grit as Palermo tried to hold on for a point. Fortunately, when the whistle went, it was still 1–1. Villa left frustrated, whilst Palermo were happy with the result yet unhappy with the performance. Everyone at Villa Park was aware that the door to the semi-final was wide open for the return leg in Sicily.

🤕 Turconi and the Tests

The next morning brought the inevitable: scans on Turconi’s groin confirmed a strain, ruling him out for 2–3 weeks. No surgery, no long-term damage, just a spell on the sidelines at the worst possible time.

He had played 75 minutes at Villa Park, still threading passes and pressing on half a leg, but now Huber had to plan the return without his No.18.

⚽️ Matchday 32 — Lazio 2–2 Palermo (A)

Three days later, in Rome, the fatigue was written all over Palermo’s running data and their opening 25 minutes. With Lazio one point ahead in 6th and the table tightening, this Monday night felt huge. Instead, Palermo started like a team still mentally at Villa Park. On 15 minutes, Alessio Buttaro’s loose pass out from the back was punished ruthlessly as Jonathan Dubasin pounced and fired the hosts in front. Teun Koopmeiners doubled the lead on 26’, steering in a crisp finish from the edge of the box. Slowly, Palermo woke up. They began to break Lazio’s press, to push their wingers higher, to pin Sarri’s side deeper. 

Right on the stroke of half-time came the lifeline: Christian Comotto arrived in the box at the perfect moment on 45’, and his low finish changed the whole mood of the night. After the break Palermo looked like themselves again, building moves of their own instead of just hanging in there. On 74 minutes Yeremay delivered the equaliser their improvement deserved, driving in from the left and bending a precise shot into the far corner for 2–2. Both teams chased a winner, both created half-chances, neither found the decisive touch. In the context of the week, a point away to a direct rival felt like a small victory, and just enough to keep Palermo glued to Lazio’s shoulder in the European race.

🇮🇹 Europa League Quarter-Final, 2nd Leg — Palermo 4–0 Aston Villa (H)

At kick-off, you could see the miles in Palermo’s legs and the nerves in the stand. It was Thursday, 8pm, and a drizzle was hanging over the Barbera. Three days removed from Rome, a week from the first leg, and no Turconi. Despite disappointing at home, Brendan Rodgers’ Villa were still one of the competition favourites, and Palermo were a team that on the face of it were just happy to be there.

For twenty minutes, that’s exactly what the game looked like: Villa’s neat shape and steady possession against a Palermo side shuffling across in two tired banks, trying not to leave gaps. Yet the first big chance still fell to pink, Haissem Hassan spinning in from the right and forcing a sharp near-post save. On 23 minutes, however, the tie changed. Palermo finally broke with purpose, Comotto timing his run into the channel and then doing what he’s started to make a habit of: choosing the correct option in the final third. His low cut-back found Antonio Palumbo charging onto it at the edge of the box, and the captain absolutely drilled his finish into the corner. 1–0 on the night, 2–1 on aggregate, and for the first time you could feel Villa wobble.

Five minutes later came the kind of goal that only happens when a team is both lucky and brave. Hassan cut inside and dragged a shot that looked destined to roll harmlessly wide. Instead, it skidded across the wet turf and through a maze of legs, where Yeremay arrived late at the back post to bundle it over the line on 28 minutes. It wasn’t pretty, but the stadium didn’t care. 2–0 on the night, 3–1 overall, and suddenly the favourite looked stunned. In the end, Villa’s big chance to change the narrative arrived just before half-time. A slick move finally dissected Palermo’s shape and sent Ollie Watkins clear, the kind of one-on-one he finishes in his sleep. This time he leant back and ballooned it over. In another universe, it’s 2–1 and the panic spreads. In this one, the Barbera exhaled and the lead survived until the break.

The second half began the same way as the first. Villa were on the ball, Palermo in their compact shell but confident in their ability to burst forwards in transition. As the half progressed, Villa’s urgency began to curdle into frustration, and on 57 minutes Palermo punished it again. A scruffy sequence in the box, half-cleared crosses and ricochets, ended with the ball dropping for Palumbo again. No finesse from the captain, just another thunderous strike battered through bodies and in. 3–0, a Palumbo brace, and 4–1 on aggregate. In 60 minutes the Barbera went from hopeful to disbelieving. Huber on the touchline punched the air at the breathing room, then immediately turned to ensure continued concentration. It was the classic “celebrate and coach at the same time” of a man who knows nothing is ever safe. If the third was good, the fourth was outrageous. On 67 minutes a reworked corner was rolled short rather than lofted. The second ball was clipped back to the edge of the area where Yeremay, back to goal, killed it, pivoted and unleashed a rising shot that cannoned off the underside of the bar and in. For a heartbeat there was silence as half the stadium was unsure whether it was in. But then the referee pointed to the centre circle and the stadium exploded. 

4–0 on the night, 5–1 on aggregate. From there, it was all about managing the game and not giving Villa even the consolation of a goal. Quetglás made the saves he needed to; Chadi Riad, Honest Ahanor and the rest of the back line cleared everything that came their way. When the final whistle finally came, several players simply dropped where they stood. Huber didn’t. He walked straight towards the Curva Nord, rain streaking off his jacket, jabbing a finger at his chest and then at the turf: me, here. The message was obvious enough that even those in the very back row understood it. The curva roared back, a rolling chant of “Jacques, resta con noi” spilling out into the night.

Palermo had seen of the one of the tournament favourites in emphatic fashion. Palermo were headed to the Europa League Semi finals, and they will be facing Sparta Prague.

🎙 Post-Match: Huber, the Fans, the Noise

Jacopo Vezzosi (Sky Sport Italia): Jacques, four-nil against one of the favourites, into the semi-finals. How do you explain that?
Huber: “I’m not sure I can. We played on fumes. But sometimes football is not about energy, it’s about mentality. We knew exactly what we wanted to do, and every time the moment came, the players were ruthless.”

Simona Damone (La Gazzetta dello Sport): It’s another big European night at the Barbera. Do you feel this is becoming a special relationship between this team and this stadium?
Huber: “Yes. You feel it in the noise. When we were suffering at 0–0, they were still pushing. When we scored, they didn’t let us relax. The Barbera is never a spectator of us, it’s a partner.”

Chiara Fracaros (Corriere dello Sport): As it a bit of a tradition, we saw you go to the Curva Nord at the end, pointing at yourself and then the grass. What were you saying?
Huber: (smiles) “Only that I am very happy where I am. Nights like this, you don’t think about anything else.”

Francesco Cianci (Local radio, TRM): No Turconi tonight, but Palumbo, Yeremay, Comotto all stepped up.
Huber: “We are not ‘Turconi FC’. Marco is fantastic, and we hope to have him back soon, but this tie shows the strength of the group. The captain scores two, Yeremay scores one wonderful strike and one ugly goal, the defence suffers but it survives… that’s Palermo.”

For a club that spent a decade watching European nights on television, a 5–1 aggregate win over Aston Villa is an enormous milestone. It’s a step in a steep climb that may have wobbled but keeps on heading up.

👉Next Up: Coaches, Wine and What Comes Next. Before Sparta Prague and the fight for a place in Belgrade, the focus shifts briefly away from tactics and touchlines to a small table in Kalsa, where Huber and his trusted British staff share seafood, wine, and the first honest conversation about loyalty and what happens if the big clubs come calling. One night (almost) without football, on the eve of the biggest games of their careers.

🍷 56: Coaches’ Night (Almost) Off

🍝 Cortile Pantelleria

They picked a restaurant in Kalsa that smells of seafood and red wine, the sort of place where most people sit outside and every table has a story. No laptops, no tablets, no “have you seen their right-back’s heatmap?”, that was the one rule set by Jacques for this evening.

Tobi Okori was there first, obviously. Assistant managers like him don’t know how to be late. He’d claimed a corner table on the terrace, jacket off, a notebook in his pocket that he promised not to open. Samir Halimi breezed in next already on first-name terms with the waiter. Adam Fairclough and Anthony Sullivan followed, still half in their club tracksuits, the last two pieces of the British block that crossed the Channel with Huber when Palermo was a Serie B gamble rather than a Europa League semi-finalist.

Huber arrived last, still finishing a call, still saying “we talk tomorrow, now I’m not a coach” to someone from the club hierarchy. When he finally drops into his chair, he puts his phone face-up on the table, and it buzzes once more. Francesca. He glances at the screen, hesitates a heartbeat, then slides it into his pocket.

“Everything okay?” Samir asks quietly.

“Just moving a dinner,” Huber says. “We’ll find another night.”

Samir grins. “Another night after which game? Prague? Belgrade? The Champions League final?”

Huber flashes his friend a small smile and then raised a glass that had been poured for him.  “To one night without football,” he said.

“That’s impossible and you know it,” Tobi replied. They tried anyway. For a while they talked about everything else: the weather, how Samir still couldn’t drive in Palermo traffic, the merits of Italian tea (“none,” according to Adam). But the Villa tie hung in the air like steam.

“Four-nil,” Anthony said eventually, shaking his head. “On these legs. If I had said that in the pre-game you’d have all called me unrealistic.”

Tobi finally cracked and pulled out his phone. “Do you want to see the running numbers?” he said. “Comotto should be horizontal for a week. Palumbo too. What a team, they ran themselves into the ground for us.”

“That’s why we have dropped the line,” Huber said. “We can’t press how I want, we have to counter more. If we’d kept the old shape, we would have no squad left.” Soon the conversation drifted back to the beginning: that first presentation by Huber to all of them in a grey English coffee shop, with a pink shirt on a slide and “five-year plan” written underneath; the decision to say yes to Sicily, the Italian lessons, the first time they saw the Barbera full.

“Would you still come if you knew it meant Villa Park and Belgrade but also no sleep?” Anthony asked.

“Easily,” Samir said. “I’d just pack fewer jumpers.” The serious part came later, with the second round of drinks and the bill still face-down on the table.

“Your phone’s going to keep ringing now,” Tobi said to Huber. “Clubs, agents, all of it. You know that, yeah?”

Huber shrugged. “It’s ringing for players too,” he said. “That’s the price of doing well. If anyone around this table gets something better, please just talk with me and if you really want it, I’ll drive you to the airport myself.” No one answered immediately. Outside, a scooter rattled past on the cobbles.

“Not yet,” Adam said at last. “We came for the rebuild. We’re not done with it.”

“Besides,” Samir added, “I am not going back to English rain when I can argue about tactics on a beach in Mondello.”

Huber smiled into his glass. “Good,” he said. “Because I don’t know how to do this without you all.”

For the first time all night, they mentioned Sparta Prague. Not the game plan, just little comments here and there. What the noise in that stadium is like, the way their wingers never stop firing crosses into the box, the idea of Hassan or Baptistella spinning away in behind on the break. It was enough. For the next few days, they would all watch clips until their eyes hurt, tonight though, a few hand gestures were all it got to. 

When they finally stepped back into the cool Palermo air, the city was quiet, lights on the water flickering in the distance. Tobi headed to his car muttering about the school run tomorrow. Adam and Anthony argued about set-pieces. Samir slung an arm briefly around Huber’s shoulders. “If we win this thing,” he said, half-joking, “they’ll build a statue of you outside the Barbera.”

Huber looked up towards Monte Pellegrino, dark against the sky. “Then we’d better make sure the semi-final isn’t the last chapter,” he replied.

The next morning, the laptops would be open again, Sparta would be under the microscope and the numbers would start dictating decisions between league games. But for a few hours in Kalsa, Palermo’s British brigade and their captain had allowed themselves something rare in a season of constant motion: a night to breathe, laugh, and remember why they’d all joined together in the first place.

👉 Next Up: Sparta and the Thin Line. Coaches’ night is over, the laptops are open again. Next comes a brutal stretch that will decide everything: a raucous first leg in Prague, the Barbera under the lights for the return, and league games squeezed in between as Palermo chase Europe on two fronts. 

⚔️ 57: Belgrade on the Horizon

🏆 A Shot at a European Final

By April, the schedule often eases but the pressure increases. As always, there is a fine line between glory and heartbreak. Palermo have already taken down Betis and Aston Villa, now the prize is in sight. Two games against Sparta Prague, ninety minutes each, and on the other side: the possibility of playing in a first ever European final.

🇨🇿 Europa League Semi-Final, 1st Leg — Sparta Prague 1–1 Palermo (A)

By the time the teams walked out in Prague to warm up, it was six degrees and there was already a wall of red-and-white flags and flares behind the goal. Clearly, the Sparta side and fans were intent on turning the first fifteen minutes into a storm. For Marco Turconi, it was a brutal stage for a comeback: his first start since the groin strain, strapped up and back in the XI because semi-finals don’t wait for perfect fitness.

From the first whistle Sparta flew out of the traps. They dominated the ball, zipped passes through midfield and pressed Palermo into hurried clearances. Every attempted counter died on a poor touch to a chorus of Czech chants, every long ball seemed to come straight back. For a while it felt like their very first game against PAOK all over again, only louder, wetter, and with the stakes much higher. However as the game progressed, Palermo began to relax. Turconi dropped deeper to give them a spare man in the build-up, Comotto and Ranocchia got more control, and Yeremay started to find pockets on the left. On 27 minutes came the first warning for Sparta: Yeremay drove inside and curled a shot just wide of the far post, the crowd answering with that low “oh” that means everyone has seen how close it was.

Despite a good period, it was Sparta landed first, though. On 36 minutes a quick move down Palermo’s right sliced the visitors open, a simple pass inside finding Garang Kuol pulling off the back of his marker. One sharp touch, one low finish past Quetglás, and it was 1–0. The stadium erupted and Huber turned immediately to his bench for consultation with Tobi and Samir. Palermo got to half-time without further damage, but the dressing room was not calm. Huber, usually more teacher than shouter, let it all out: this was a European semi-final, not a training exercise. Be braver on the ball, step higher without it, stop ball-watching and start matching Sparta’s intensity.

Fortuitously for the Rosanero, it showed as soon as they came back out. On 48 minutes Haissem Hassan, drifted in from the right and worked half a yard in order to lash a shot that forced the keeper into a sharp save at his near post. Suddenly it was the home fans who sounded uncertain. The rain fell harder but the game started to tilt in favour of Palermo. Tzimas began to stretch his legs into the channels and even at 80% Turconi began threading passes between red shirts.

Chances came. Tzimas wriggled in the box and shot just wide; Comotto flashed one across goal that begged for a touch. You could feel the equaliser coming; the question was whether Palermo would hold out long enough to find it. On 68 minutes they did. Picking up the ball 25 yards out in that in-between zone, Christian Comotto looked up, saw no obvious pass, and decided it was his moment. His shot skidded nastily off the wet turf, the keeper got a hand to it but couldn’t keep it out, and the ball squirmed under him into the net. The away end exploded; Comotto disappeared under a pile of drenched pink shirts while Huber allowed himself the smallest of smiles. That will do.

The last twenty minutes were a grind. Sparta, stung, suddenly kicked back into gear, throwing bodies forward. Like away to Villa, Palermo dropped deeper into a compact block and chose their moments on the break. Quetglás made a couple easy stops and the shape held. When the whistle went, it read Sparta Prague 1–1 Palermo. Respectable in isolation but in context, it felt bigger than that. Turconi had survived his first start back, Comotto had added another big European goal to his growing collection, and a tired Palermo side had walked into a raucous semi-final and not cracked.

The tie was level. The real noise would come in Sicily.

🇮🇹 Europa League Semi-Final, 2nd Leg — Palermo 4–0 Sparta Prague (H)

If Prague was hostile, the Barbera was a pressure cooker. It was a warm evening in Palermo, and being eager to return the favour, the Curva Nord was already in full voice during the warm-up. Despite the support, there were nerves in the stand with the knowledge that if Palermo win tonight, they go to their first ever European final.

For once this season, Huber had everyone. No injuries, no suspensions, a full-strength XI. And this time, it was Palermo who came flying out the traps. Barely two minutes in, Hassan picked up the ball on the right and went at the Prague backline. He burst past one man, shifted inside another, only to then be yanked down in the box as he shaped to shoot. The referee pointed straight to the spot. Tzimas took the ball, the stadium held its breath… and Peter Vindahl guessed right, pushing the penalty away. A howl went up; Tzimas stared at the grass, hands on hips.

For a lesser team, that’s the wobble. For Palermo in this game, it was just a minor setback. On 23 minutes Turconi decided he’d had enough. Receiving the ball wide on the right, he squared up his full-back, slipped it past him with a shimmy, cut inside onto his left and whipped a shot into the top corner. It was vicious and precise, the ball in the net almost before anyone had time to track its flight. The celebration was classic Turconi theatre. Turconi jogged to the advertising hoardings around the Renzo Barbera, sat on them like a park bench and just stared at the Curva as his teammates swamped him. No knee-slide, no roar, just a 18-year-old behaving like scoring in a European semi was the most natural thing in the world. 1–0 on the night, 2–1 on aggregate, and the Barbera went from loud to feral.

Three minutes after it looked like Tzimas had doubled it, finishing coolly after slipping behind the defence, but the flag went up. Offside. Sparta barely had time to breathe then, and from there, they never really recovered.On 35 minutes, Comotto picked the lock again, drifting inside and slotting a pass into the channel. Yeremay darted across his man, read it early and tucked the ball into the corner. 2–0, 3–1 on aggregate, and the tie was tilting heavily south. Four minutes later, it toppled. From a corner, Chadi Riad surged through a crowd and powered in a header on 39’. With that goal, the last resistance seemed to crack in Sparta. On their way back to halfway they looked at each other or at the floor, whilst Palermo’s players just looked at the Curva, drinking in the noise.

Half-time: 3–0 on the night, 4–1 on aggregate, songs about Belgrade already bouncing around the old bowl.

The second half could have become nervous if Sparta had struck early. Instead, Palermo managed it with the calm of a team that suddenly feels at home on this stage. They didn’t chase the game, they controlled it, keeping the distances tight and be careful in possession. On 60 minutes they added the exclamation mark. A sharp move down the right worked the ball into Hassan on the edge of the box. This time there was no foul, just a ruthless, rising finish lashed past Vindahl for 4–0. Whatever faint belief Sparta had left evaporated with the net.

The final half-hour was celebration football. Sparta pushed out of pride; Palermo’s back line held firm and Quetglás dealt with what little got through. Every substitution drew a standing ovation, every clearance was applauded like a goal. At the whistle, the scoreboard still read 4–0. When the final whistle went, Huber played it cool. He approached every stand applauding, with the players fanning out beside him following his lead.

On the big screen though, the confirmation rolled in UEFA blue: PALERMO THROUGH TO THE EUROPA LEAGUE FINAL.

Next stop: Shakhtar Donetsk, at the Rajko Mitić Stadium in Belgrade.
 

Not just a shot at their first European trophy, but at the first top-flight trophy in the club’s history.

👉 Next Up: Points, Pace and Parallel Paths. While Belgrade looms on the horizon, Serie A doesn’t pause for fairy tales. The next chapter drops back into the league grind: five games against Spezia, Verona, Napoli, Sassuolo and Parma that quietly decide just how high this season can climb. It’s late winners and rotated XIs, a fabulous Turconi volley against Napoli, and monthly awards for Huber and Tzimas. Even without Prague, will the table offer Palermo another door into the Champions League?

⚙️ 58: League Business Before Belgrade

By the time the Europa League anthem followed Palermo around Europe, Serie A had started to feel like something squeezed into the gaps. But the table didn’t care about romance. If Huber’s side wanted a second route into next year’s Champions League, the run-in still had to be handled properly, even with Belgrade looming on the horizon.

📈 Keeping the Good Times Rolling

Matchday 33 — Palermo 3–1 Spezia (H)

Palermo kept their European momentum rolling with a controlled home win over Spezia. Just before half-time Christian Comotto timed his run perfectly, darting in behind the back line and drilling home on 43’ to make it 1–0. Despite a host of pink chances either side of the break, Spezia found an equaliser on 57’ when Andreas Hountondji rose to head in, but the response was immediate: on 64’ Stefanos Tzimas restored the lead with a composed finish after neat build-up. As Spezia pushed late on, Palermo killed it from a set piece, a well-worked free-kick routine ending with Honest Ahanor arriving at the back post to score on 85’. A 3–1 win, job done, and another step towards locking in European qualification through the league.

Matchday 34 — Verona 2–4 Palermo (A)

In Verona, Palermo’s attack dragged them through a chaotic afternoon. On 14 minutes Tzimas was tripped in the area by Facundo González and calmly sent the keeper the wrong way from the spot, only for a clever Verona free-kick to free Maximilian Bauer to level on 17’. After traded chances the sides went in at 1–1, but on 57’ a Yeremay strike took a deflection to restore Palermo’s lead, and Cauan Baptistella seemed to give them breathing room on 74’ with a cool finish which was immediately cancelled out a minute later. Deep into stoppage time, though, Palermo finally killed it: Baptistella tore down the flank and squared for Tzimas to tap in on 90+7, sealing a 4–2 win and another big step towards Europe.

Matchday 35 — Palermo 2–0 Napoli (H)

Derby delle Due Sicilie with the stakes cranked up: Napoli arrived in 4th, Palermo chasing and Huber defending a ridiculous record against the Partenopei. The game caught fire early, Yeremay clipped the post after just 6 minutes, and on 15’ Fábio Vieira smacked the crossbar at the other end as a reminder that Napoli still have teeth. The moment of pure genius came on 34 minutes: a cross dropped awkwardly into the box and Marco Turconi, back in full flow, produced an outrageous over-the-shoulder volley on his weaker right foot, looping it beyond the keeper for 1–0. In the second half Palermo controlled the rhythm, squeezing space and picking their moments on the break, and on 72’ Turconi killed it, cushioning a ball and finishing coolly for his second of the night. A 2–0 win, another clean sheet, and Huber’s astonishing run against Napoli rolls on, with Palermo’s European push very much alive.

Matchday 36 — Sassuolo 1–4 Palermo (A)

The late-season charge rolled on in Reggio Emilia. On 22 minutes Tzimas slid in to convert a low cross and make it 0–1, but Cristian Shpendi hit back with a well-taken header on 38’ to level for Sassuolo. After the break, Antonio Palumbo took over from midfield, first restoring the lead on 62’ with a composed finish, then adding a second on 69’ to put daylight between the sides. As Sassuolo opened up, Tzimas struck again on 85’ with another sharp finish to seal a 4–1 win – a dominant performance and another statement that Palermo are finishing this season at full sprint.

Matchday 37 — Palermo 0–0 Parma (H)

With the Europa League final just four days away, Huber rang the changes and it showed. A heavily rotated Palermo took a while to find any rhythm, allowing Parma a few decent chances in the first half, but Quetglás and the defence did enough to keep it 0–0 at the break. After the interval, the introductions of a few regulars brought more control and territory, yet the game never really caught fire; half-chances rather than clear ones, and nobody quite willing to go full throttle with Belgrade looming. It finished 0–0, a forgettable contest on its own terms, but exactly what it needed to be: no injuries, no drama, and every eye already fixed on the club’s biggest night.

🎖️ Awards and Table Talk

April’s surge didn’t go unnoticed:

• Jacques Huber picked up Manager of the Month for Serie A. His first ever.
• Stefanos Tzimas took Player of the Month, his goals dragging Palermo through tight games just as the season hit maximum tension.

Inter have long since been crowned champions, but Palermo’s run has reshaped the race behind them. With one league game left, Huber’s side sit 4th, level on points with Napoli in 5th and just two behind Juventus in 3rd. European football is guaranteed, as they’ve already secured at least another season in the Europa League, but the ceiling is much higher.

There are now two routes to the Champions League:

• Hold their nerve and finish the job in the top four.
• Or take the more glamorous path and bring a trophy home from Belgrade.

Either way, for Palermo, the line between dream and reality has never felt thinner.

👉 Next Up: Belgrade, Birthday, History. The league work is almost done, Europe is secured and Palermo arrive on the final day of the season with two roads into the Champions League. The real road everyone wants is the one which runs through Belgrade. Next comes a cold night at the Rajko Mitić, Shakhtar Donetsk on the other side, and Jacques Huber turning 35 with a suitcase, a pink scarf and a message from Marcelo Bielsa on his phone. Ninety minutes to find out whether this project’s first European final becomes a beautiful memory or a haunting nightmare.

🏆 59: Belgrade, Birthday, History?

Huber zipped his small black suitcase shut for the third time. Tracksuit, match shirt and tie, the same pair of shoes he has worn for all European nights. Passport, notebook, a pen that had survived promotion and an injury crisis. On top, almost as an afterthought, he also dropped the folded pink-and-black scarf a fan had thrown at him after the Villa game. On his phone, messages were stacked like set pieces. Staff, family, friends, old teammates. At the top was one Spanish message in particular from his old mentor: 

“Jacques, las finales no son para demostrar que uno es mejor que los demás, sino para honrar todo el trabajo que hizo el equipo para llegar hasta aquí. Sea fiel a su idea y respete siempre al rival; el resultado será una consecuencia. Le deseo que disfrute este partido más que ningún otro. Disfruta tu cumpleaños. — Marcelo”

“Jacques, finals are not about proving you are better than everyone else, but about honouring all the work the team has done to get here. Be faithful to your idea and always respect the opponent; the result will be a consequence. I wish that you enjoy this match more than any other. Enjoy your birthday. — Marcelo”

His 35th birthday was going to be day of the Europa League final. He locked the apartment, took the stairs two at a time and stepped into the Palermo morning. No time to stop and think, there was business ahead.

🏟️ Rajko Mitić, 17 May 2028

At the Rajko Mitić, the cold hit first: 5°C, the kind of Balkan chill that sneaks in under your jacket. One end a blaze of orange, drums, and Ukrainian flags; the other a block of pink that had travelled from Sicily in their droves. Huber kept it simple. The shape was the one that had carried them here: 4–3–3.

Palermo XI

Quetglás; Anselmino, Troilo, Chadi Riad, Ahanor; Ranocchia as the deep pivot; Comotto and Turconi ahead of him; Yeremay left, Hassan right, Tzimas up top and wearing the armband.

Given his quarter-final heroics, Antonio Palumbo was desperately unlucky to miss out. But Huber wanted pace at both wings and Turconi’s legs and brain in the central pocket, where he could drag Shakhtar’s midfield around and drift in behind on counters. 

Palumbo would be the control piece later, if the game needed soothing.

Shakhtar XI

Riznyk in goal; Konoplia, Bondar, Faryna, Matviienko across the back. Maycon anchoring midfield with Kryskiv and Ocheretko either side. Lucas Ferreira wide right, Newertton from the left, Kauã Elias through the middle.

Arda Turan matched Palermo’s 4–3–3 shape and made no attempt to hide his intent: full-backs high and a powerful front three with pace and aggression. 

The anthem played. Captains shook hands. Huber closed his eyes for half a second on the touchline, breathed out, then stepped forward. Birthday or not, this was ninety minutes to try and change what Palermo could be.

🔥 First Half — Hassan’s Hammer

Shakhtar started like the team that had previously won this tournament. Orange shirts swarmed the ball, and their full-backs overlapped regularly keeping Palermo’s wingers pinned back. As a result, Palermo spent the first five minutes clearing their lines and trying not to invite disaster. Quetglás punched one vicious cross away and Riad nodded another out of the six-yard box. It was most certainly a shaky start for Huber’s team. Relief from the early pressure eventually came from a succession of corners. Around the ten-minute mark Yeremay trotted across to take three in quick succession, each one greeted by a roar from the pink end. Nothing was converted, but Shakhtar’s high line dropped a fraction, and Palermo had finally managed to plant a flag in the game.

Then, on 17 minutes, the night tilted. A neat move down the right found Hassan with space to drive at his man. Turconi dropped short, spun and took the return ball in the corner of the box, back to goal, defender tight. Most players would have bounced it back and reset. Turconi didn’t. With a soft flick of his boot, he back-heeled the ball into the channel he’d just vacated. Hassan, still sprinting, ran onto it like he’d been waiting for that exact pass all week. He took one touch to steady himself and then smashed the ball towards the near post. The ball screamed past Riznyk before the keeper could even set himself. 1–0 Palermo. On the biggest night in the club’s history, Haissem Hassan had ripped the final open like a league game at the Barbera. The pink end dissolved. Hassan sprinted to the corner turning, Turconi crashed into him from behind, the bench spilled onto the edge of the technical area. On the touchline Huber punched the air once, then immediately started yelling at the team to concentrate and focus.

The rest of the half was about balance. Palermo pressed in bursts, then dropped, happy to let Shakhtar have sterile possession in front of them. Yeremay drifted inside to combine with Comotto, Tzimas ran the channels, and Ranocchia snapped into second balls. Shakhtar threatened without quite breaking through: a couple of optimistic shots from range, one skidding cross that flashed across the six-yard box, a half-shout for a penalty waved away. Quetglás never had to be spectacular, but he had to be present and he was.

Half-time: 1–0 Palermo. 45 minutes from a European trophy.

⚔️ Second Half — Holding Their Nerve

Inside the dressing room there was no grand speech. The players already knew how close they were. “More of the same,” Huber said, voice steady. “Be brave but don’t force the second goal, wait for the right moment and control the game. If they want to open the game, they do it but only on our terms.” The same eleven came back out.

The second half tightened into that particular tension only finals produce. Shakhtar nudged their line higher, but Palermo held firm. The first chance after the restart fell to pink again: on 48’ Hassan cut inside and lashed one just wide of the far post, Huber applauding the decision even as the ball fizzed away. By the hour mark legs were getting heavy. The cards in the referee’s pocket also began to emerge. Huber made his first changes on 56’: Baptistella for Yeremay to add fresh running on the left, Buttaro for the booked Anselmino to remove a potential red card from the equation.

Shakhtar pushed, but Palermo strangled their rhythm wherever they could. Fouls in smart areas, simple passes instead of Hollywood ones, every midfielder taking an extra second on the ball when possible, just to draw a breath and halt any rhythm. On 74 minutes, they almost killed it. From a corner, Riad rose above everyone and thumped a header towards the top corner. Riznyk, though, guessed right, flinging himself across to claw it away. In another universe, that’s the goal that blows the lid off. In this one it was a warning flare: Shakhtar were still alive.

So, Huber made his decisive move on 75’. Tzimas, emptied by an hour of heavy running, was taken off. Turconi was then pushed up as a false nine and Palumbo, taking the armband, was on to bolster the midfield. With Palumbo next to Comotto and Ranocchia, Palermo added another calmer passer, one more player who could help keep hold of a possession. Turconi’s job wasn’t to dart beyond like Tzimas, but to show, receive and drop in as an extra man in midfield.

From there, Palermo didn’t go for the jugular, they sought control instead. They kept the ball long enough to sap Shakhtar’s adrenaline. They lost it in places where they could immediately swarm. Hassan and Baptistella tracked all the way back, doubling up on full-backs. Riad and Buttaro kept winning the first header, whilst Troilo swept admirably behind them, cleaning up the rest. In the end, Quetglás had to make one more real save, a firm strike from the edge that he saw late and beat away. A strong palm to push a looping header over the bar in stoppage time. Nothing more.

The board showed three added minutes, but it went to four. One final clearance from Riad, and then one final whistle from István Kovács. Palermo 1–0 Shakhtar Donetsk. Palermo are Europa League champions.

🏆 Palermo, Campioni d’Europa

For a half-second, nobody moved. Then the noise hit. Huber was swallowed by his staff, then by his players. Riad was on his knees praying, Hassan lay flat on his back on the grass, Palumbo was hugging everyone in reach. Turconi ran straight for the Palermo end, both arms out, pointing at the Europa League patch on his sleeve, then at himself, then the crowd, as if to say: this belongs to us now.

In the stadium, the reality hit as the stage for the trophy lift was rolled out. Samir Halimi shared a moment with Stefanos Tzimas, heads pushed up against a man that could have left in January to play for Arsenal. Anthony Sullivan, the Irish fitness coach, bawled his eyes out, whilst two young Sicilians, Corona and Faedda, were serenaded by the fans as the approached. Eventually, medals went on necks, runners-up first, then an almost disbelieving line of pink. When the moment came, Palumbo was shoved to the front of the podium, Huber just behind, a hand on his captain’s shoulder.

The Europa League trophy went up into a Belgrade sky full of pink and black confetti. In the crowd, the smuggled, pink flares were lit. Huber was drenched in champagne by Buttaro and Baptistella as he was approached for an interview. He did not care. On his 35th birthday, Jacques Huber lifted Palermo’s first ever European trophy, and with it, a guaranteed place in next season’s Champions League.

Back in the dressing room, someone finally remembered the cake. It arrived mostly destroyed, icing smeared across Ahanor’s face and fingerprints missing from one side, but the squad still gathered and sang “Tanti auguri a te…” at the top of their wrecked voices. Turconi dutifully planted a handful of frosting in his manager’s hair.

Later, much later, there was a quiet drink with Francesca in a corner of the team hotel bar. Both exhausted, both half-laughing at how surreal it all was, a birthday that had turned into a civic event. All the stresses of the season washing away in the smell of clothes soaked in champagne and victory. Around them, staff, players, and their families, drifted in and out, still smiling from ear to ear and replaying the best moments of the most magical of nights.

📰 The Morning After — What It Means

By dawn, the headlines were already everywhere:

La Favola in Rosa: Palermo Regna in Europa

From Serie B to Belgrade: Huber’s Masterpiece

Turconi & Hassan, Re d’Europa

Pundits argued about whether this was the best-built project in Italy, about Huber’s future, about how many of this squad would be on Champions League nights next season, whether that be with Palermo or somewhere richer. Inside the club, the impact was immediate. Prize money, coefficients, and new sponsors calling. Agents who once treated Palermo as a good loan destination now pitch their players as potential cornerstones. The stadium renovation plan was no longer a maybe; it was a boardroom agenda item.

Outside, Palermo didn’t sleep. Viale della Libertà became a rolling car horn symphony, scooters draped in pink, flags out of windows. In Lo Zen, someone had already painted a rough Europa League trophy next to a spray-painted “Z”. In Ballarò, every market stall seemed to have an opinion on tactics, false nines and whether Turconi’s release clause was high enough.

For Huber, between the cake and the questions, the feeling distilled into something simple. “It feels like a beginning, not an ending,” he told one reporter.

Palermo are Europa League champions. Their first major trophy is in the cabinet, Champions League football is secured, and a city that once dreamed of just staying in Serie A has woken up to something bigger: the idea that the team in pink can stand on European stages and not just survive, but win.

👉 Next Up: Hangovers in Florence. After confetti in Belgrade and birthday cake in the dressing room, reality returns in the most Serie A way possible: an away day at Fiorentina with half the squad still half-drunk celebrating. One last league game, a slightly grumpy Huber on the touchline, a performance that doesn’t quite match the new status of “campioni d’Europa”, and a final table that confirms where this Palermo project stands before the summer storms arrive.

🍾 60: Hangover in Florence, Measure of a Season

✈️ Flight Home from Belgrade

The plane left Belgrade just before 8am, the Europa League trophy strapped into its own seat with a Palermo scarf tied around the handle. Half the squad was asleep before take-off, headphones crooked, legs in the aisle. The other half kept replaying clips on their phones, shoving screens into each other’s faces: Hassan’s finish, Turconi’s little back-heel, the scenes in the dressing room at full-time.

Huber sat by the window, lights of the Balkans dropping away beneath the wing, a plastic cup of terrible coffee in his hand. His phone vibrated every few minutes: messages from France, from England, from coaches he’d worked with in youth football suddenly sending long paragraphs about “identity” and “project”. Somewhere in there, his mother had simply written: “Je suis fière de toi. Dors un peu.”

In the row across, Tzimas was still awake, staring at the trophy more than his screen. Huber caught his eye, raised an eyebrow. “Still thinking about Arsenal?” he asked quietly. 

Tzimas grinned. “Thinking about the anthem next season,” he replied. “Champions League, Mister.” 

Huber smiled back, turned his head to the window and finally closed his eyes. There was still one league game to play, a long season to officially finish, and a table that could still move a little. But somewhere between Serbia and Sicily, it already felt like the real ending had been written.

🟣 Matchday 38 — Fiorentina 3–2 Palermo (A)

Four days and a few more parties later, Palermo arrived in Florence still smelling faintly of champagne. The city had still not finished celebrating Belgrade when the bus pulled up at the Franchi for a game that mattered more to the table than it did to the story. Champions League football was guaranteed; only the scrap for 4th was left, and even that felt small next to the recent nights in Europe.

On the pitch, it showed. Fiorentina were sharper, quicker, and more present. They were fighting for European places of their own. As a result, Quetglás had to make several early saves just to keep it level, but the dam broke on 24 minutes when Pietro Comuzzo got free from a corner and headed home the opener. Three minutes later Leonardo Faedda, one of the young players rewarded with a start, mistimed a challenge in the area and Lucas Beltrán rolled in the penalty for 2–0.

Huber kicked every bottle in the technical area, yet his team never quite snapped out of parade mode. After the break they at least rallied: on 48’ Mariano Troilo rose at a corner to nod in and give Palermo a lifeline, only for Andrea Pinamonti (fresh off the bench) to restore the two-goal cushion on 52’ after another wave of Viola pressure.

Palermo kept pushing on muscle memory more than desire, and on 83’ Antonio Palumbo, of course, followed up a rebound to make it 3–2 and briefly threaten a comeback nobody fully believed in. The equaliser never came. The final whistle blew on a 3–2 defeat that nudged Fiorentina into the European places and Palermo down to 5th.

In the mixed zone, Huber let a little of his irritation surface without chewing up the players. “Fiorentina deserved it,” he said. “They were better, we were still half in Belgrade. Normally I would be furious we let our position slip in the table. Tonight… I will be angry for ten minutes and then remember what these players have done this week.” One more loss on the record, but for once it didn’t really touch the season’s core.

🏆 Final Standings — The League in Context

When the dust settled, Serie A looked like this:

• Inter champions on 80 points.
• Milan and Juventus following them onto the podium.
• Napoli 4th on 67.
• Palermo 5th on 64, edged out of 4th on the final day.

The numbers underneath tell the shape of the year:

• 18 wins, 10 draws, 10 defeats – clear progress in consistency.
• 77 goals scored – the best attack in the league, more than Inter, Milan or Juve.
• 61 conceded – comfortably the worst record in the top seven, a reminder that the chaos hasn’t been completely coached out yet.

In a world without Belgrade, finishing 5th might have felt like another “almost”, a second straight season of “good, but not quite enough”. With the Europa League trophy in the cabinet, it becomes something else: proof that Palermo can run deep in Europe and stay in the fight domestically, even while patched together and exhausted for long stretches.

Huber’s verdict in his end-of-season press conference was blunt enough. “We wanted top four,” he said. “If we win instead of lose in Florence, we get it. But you cannot have everything. We finished with a cup in our hands and we scored more than anyone but Inter in the division. For a club that was in Serie B not so long ago, it’s not a bad starting point.”

🏅 Huber’s Crowning Season

The awards circuit agreed. Despite “only” finishing 5th, Jacques Huber walked away with both:

• Serie A Most Valuable Coach
• Panchina d’Oro – Italian Manager of the Year

On paper that looks strange: the coach of a non-top four side sweeping the major trophies. In practice it makes perfect sense. Palermo spent in the summer but still did this all on a budget below the teams above them, while playing Thursday–Sunday football, surviving an injury crisis, AFCON absences, and still ending up with the league’s second best attack and a European title.

At the club’s internal celebration, Huber kept the focus outward. “These plaques have my name,” he told the room, “but they belong to everyone who wore pink this year, or prepared those wearing pink this year. If next season I win nothing and Palermo go further, we will still have succeeded.” The players responded by chanting “Belgrado, Belgrado” until he had to sit down and finish his drink.

There will be a summer of bids and rumours now: Tzimas, Turconi, and many others on shortlists, questions about clauses, whispers that the “Most Valuable Coach” should be managing in England or Spain. Those are problems for another chapter. For this one, the outline is simple: Palermo finished 5th in Serie A, scored more than anyone, lifted the Europa League, secured Champions League football, and turned a pink shirt into one of the most exciting shirts in Europe again. Florence may have stung for a night; the season, though, will always belong to Belgrade.

👉 Next Up: End of Season Review: The Numbers and What Comes Next. With the champagne finally drying and the table locked in place, Palermo’s season is ready to be pulled apart: the goals and xG, the kids who grew up overnight, the veterans who held it together, the awards, the near-misses, and the first hints of a summer that will decide how far this team can really go in the Champions League era.

📋 61: End of Season Review & Checklist Progress 

🎭 Behind the Curtain

After another successful season, I wanted to pause and reflect on the progress of the series. The kind comments people have been leaving are genuinely encouraging and really do help to motivate me to continue both the save and the blog. I’m very glad there are now a few of you out there following along, and I’d also like to apologise for not replying to comments as they come in. I try not to clutter the main thread with my own little replies. Please do still leave them, as they really help, but if you ever have a direct question or something you’d like answered, don’t hesitate to drop me a DM. I’d also like to thank the people at Sortitoutsi for selecting this as Story of the Month for December, that was very kind and much appreciated.

Back to the save itself: I’m still not quite sure what it is about FM26, but the save keeps going a bit too well. Europa League champions in Season 3 is ridiculous, even if we did get a favourable draw aside from Aston Villa. With that in mind, I wanted to come back to the rules I set at the start of the save as we head towards Season 4:

• By the end of Season 4, all the Northern Italian players and ineligible foreigners already at the club have to be replaced.
• By Season 4, at least one Sicilian academy graduate must be in the first XI.

This summer I’m going to try to hit both. Marco Turconi is essentially Palermo’s starboy. He doesn’t look outrageous attributes-wise yet, but he has a knack for big goals and big moments. He’s already a lock on the team sheet, so the academy rule is covered. In terms of the other rule, a good proportion of the squad has already been turned over, with only around five more players needing to leave for it to be fully complete. The most important of those are Filippo Ranocchia and Jacopo Segre, so I think I’m going to move them on this summer.

One clarification as well of the rules: I think I will accept “ineligible” players if they are a product of our own youth academy. If a player comes through in an intake who is English or from Northern Italy, I’m happy to accept them on the basis that they’ve grown up in Sicily. That to me at least feels in the spirit of the save. With that framework in place, Season 4 is on the way: Huber leading Palermo into their first Champions League campaign.

🏆 End of Season Awards

Serie A Awards:

• Manager of the Year: Jacques Huber (Palermo)
• MVP / Player of the Year: Marcus Thuram (Inter) – 7.32 rating and 21 goals
• Young Player of the Year: Francesco Camarda (Milan) – 7.16 rating and 15 goals
• Goalkeeper of the Year: Alex Meret (Napoli) – 7.04 rating and 14 clean sheets
• Best Defender: Yann Aurel Bisseck (Inter) – 7.18 rating
• Best Midfielder: Nicolo Barella (Inter) – 7.14 rating and 10 assists
• Best Striker: Lautaro Martinez (Inter) – 7.21 rating and 18 goals
• Top Goalscorer: Marcus Thuram (Inter) – 21 Goals
• Golden Glove (Most Clean Sheets): Marc-André ter Stegen – 16 Clean Sheets
• Team of the Season:

Europa League Awards:

• Player of the Season: Facundo Pellistri (Panathaikos) – 7.71 rating
• Young Player of the Season: Christian Comotto (Palermo) – 7.24 rating
• Top Goalscorer: Bojan Miovski (Rangers) – 9 Goals

Palermo Awards:

• Top Goalscorer: Stefanos Tzimas – 21 goals (all comps)
• Most Assists: Yeremay – 14 assists (all comps)
• Signing of the Season: Cauan Baptistella – €7m from Cruzeiro.
  Thrown in at the deep end because of injuries out wide, Baptistella ended up producing a remarkable return in his first season out of South America: 10 goals, 11 assists, 6.95 rating, with over half of his appearances coming off the bench.

🌍 Notable Performers

• Stefanos Tzimas (7.04) – 21 goals, 6 assists
  Despite having his head turned in January, the Greek talisman proved again why he is one of the best strikers in Italy.
• Haissem Hassan (7.30) – 13 goals, 11 assists
  Another strong season for the winger capped off the by the winning goal in a European final. Finished third in African Footballer of the Year.
• Yeremay (7.15) – 11 goals, 14 assists
  Bounced back from a quieter year last season, to become a crucial part of Huber’s attack and the team’s top assist provider.
• Cauan Baptistella (6.95) – 10 goals, 11 assists
  10 goals and 11 assists in his first season of European football. Not bad when over half of his appearances came off the bench.

• Marco Turconi (7.12) – 16 goals, 7 assists
  Only turned 18 in February and still produced over 20 goal contributions. This was his breakout season, and he took home more Player of the Match awards than any other player in Serie A.
• Antonio Palumbo (6.98) – 10 goals, 11 assists
  No longer an automatic starter but still has a knack for big moments. Double figures for goals and assists at 32 says plenty.
• Christian Comotto (7.05) – 8 goals, 8 assists
  The creative hinge between midfield and attack. His second loan spell from Milan was as important as his first. Behind closed doors, making this move permanent is Huber’s first order of business.

• Chadi Riad (6.93) – 1 goal, 2 assists
  A slightly slow start for the statement signing, but he grew in stature as the season went on and was excellent after returning from AFCON.
• Honest Ahanor (6.88) – 3 goals, 3 assists
  Asked to do a lot tactically and shown steady improvement. A crucial cog in Huber’s system.
• Ferrán Quetglás (6.81) – 14 clean sheets
  A huge miss when injured. Not a flawless year overall, but at 23 there’s still plenty of room to grow.

🌍 Winners Around the World

Whilst Palermo was winning silverware, the rest of the footballing world kept turning:

• 🏆 Champions League – Manchester United 3–1 Barcelona
  Dreamland for Marco Rose’s United as a Benjamin Šeško hat-trick fires them to Champions League glory over last year’s winners.
• 🏆 Europa League – Palermo 1–0 Shakthar Donetsk
  A wonderful Turconi flick and a brilliant Hassan finish deliver Palermo’s first ever European silverware.
• 🏆 Europa Conference League – Lazio 3–2 Wolfsburg
  Maurizio Sarri’s Lazio win Italy’s second piece of European silverware by completing a historic comeback from 2-0 down.
• 🇮🇹 Serie A – Inter
  Inter win the Scudetto with 80 points in what was, by their standards, a slightly underwhelming campaign.
• 🇮🇹 Coppa Italia – Lazio 1–1 Fiorentina (Lazio win on pens)
  Sarri and Lazio collect their second trophy of the season, holding their nerve in the shootout.
• 🇪🇸 La Liga – Real Madrid
  Real rack up another monstrous point tally with 97 points and win another LaLiga title.
• 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 Premier League – Liverpool
  Arne Slot’s Liverpool break Arsenal’s recent dominance. In the end, it was an unfortunate season for Blues fans as Liverpool beat Enzo Maresca’s second-place Chelsea on goal difference.
• 🇩🇪 Bundesliga – Bayern Munich
  Some things never change.
• 🇫🇷 Ligue 1 – Paris Saint-Germain
  Business as usual, as PSG stroll to their seventh straight title.
• 🌍 UEFA European Championship – England 5-0 Serbia
  England finally get over the line. A brace from Foden, and goals from Saka, Bellingham and Guehi ensure a rout against Serbia in the final. In the end, the real final was the semis where England came from behind to beat France 2-1.
• 🌎 Copa América – Brazil 4-0 Chile
  Brazil are back on top under Leonardo Jardim, brushing aside Chile in Paraguay.

✅ Checklist Progress — Season 3

One of the joys of this save is watching the Palermo checklist slowly fill up.

Sicilian & Southern Identity:

• ✅ Sicilian player in First XI – Marco Turconi isn’t just in the XI now, he’s the face of the project.
• ✅ Have a Sicilian player in NxGN – Turconi’s rise has been recognised beyond Sicily too, with his place on the NxGN list confirming that Europe has officially noticed the Lo Zen starboy.

Club Development:

• ✅ Exceptional youth recruitment – steady investment in the academy and recruitment network has paid off. Palermo are now fishing in the very best ponds for young talent, which should only accelerate the “Sicilian core” plan over the next few intakes.

European Success:

• ✅ Play a European knockout game – ticked, and then some.
• ✅ Win a European trophy – Europa League champions in year three was never in the script, but here we are.
• ✅ Qualify for the Champions League – between the league position and the Europa win, Palermo are officially stepping onto the biggest stage next season.

Managerial Achievements:

• ✅ Win Manager of the Month – for the first time, as the spring run caught fire.
• ✅ Win Serie A Manager of the Year – Huber’s work has been recognised nationally, adding another star to the personal section of the checklist and nudging him a step closer to “club legend” status.

Plenty of boxes still empty, but after three seasons the shape of the project is clear: a Sicilian-leaning, youth-driven Palermo side that has already conquered one European competition and is about to test itself in the Champions League.

👉 Next Up: Summer in Pink. With the season finally over and the Europa League trophy tucked away, Palermo slip into their brief window of quiet: Mondello mornings, dinners without laptops, Francesca and Jacques trying to be a normal couple, and a coach who keeps pretending he’s on holiday while his phone fills with agents, offers and the first whispers of a Super Cup showdown with Manchester United. A summer of struggling to switch off, transfer negotiations, and the first hairline cracks between life and football.

🌞62: Summer in Pink

For the first time in what felt like years, the suitcase stayed under the bed.

Belgrade had been a blur of champagne, camera flashes and interviews. There had then been the league to wrap up, the end-of-season celebrations and awards to take place, and then finally, at last, nothing. No pre-match meetings, no opposition reports, no “Mister, the bus leaves in five.” Just a quiet Palermo morning drifting through the open balcony doors, and Jacques Huber at the kitchen counter slicing peaches for breakfast.

Francesca padded in barefoot, stole one from the chopping board and nodded towards the Europa League medal hanging from the back of a chair. “Do you ever take that off?” she teased.

“Sometimes,” he said. “When I shower.” She rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek anyway.

🩳 Mondello Days

The city wore the trophy for weeks. Kids played five-a-side in knock-off pink shirts with “Hassan 19” and “Turconi 18” printed badly across the back. A bakery near Via Maqueda started selling cannoncini “Belgrado”. A banner hung from a balcony in Kalsa: Grazie Mister, ci hai fatto sognare. For once, Huber tried to live in it rather than just travel through it on the way to training or games. They drove out to Mondello in the middle of the week, when the beach was mostly small children and tourists who hadn’t realised how hot Sicilian sun gets after lunch. He actually lay on the sand without a laptop. Francesca half-dozed beside him, big sunglasses hiding whether she was watching him or the water.

“You know,” she said, “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you horizontal without a laptop or report on your chest.”

“I am evolving,” he replied. “Next I will learn to read something that isn’t about football.”

“Careful,” she smiled. “You might become a normal person.”

They went to dinner in places where nobody asked him about his pressing traps, or where to play Turconi next year, or whether Tzimas would definitely stay. They visited so many of her friends, and in the evening lingered at social events drinking wine instead of rushing home to cut video for tactical briefings. One evening, walking back through the narrow streets of the old town, Francesca slid her arm through his.

“Do you realise,” she said softly, “that tonight you haven’t looked at your phone once?”

He checked his pocket on instinct, then laughed. “Don’t jinx it.”

⚽️ Football Creeping Back In

It couldn’t last forever. The first crack came disguised as admin: an email from the sporting director with the provisional pre-season schedule and a note about “tight turnaround with the Super Cup and league start” that made his stomach tighten.

Then came the second: a shared folder popping up on his tablet – scouting reports labelled Target 1 – DM, Target 2 – CM, Target 3 – CB. He opened one, meaning to skim it over coffee, and came back to reality forty-five minutes later with his espresso gone cold and Francesca standing in the doorway. “See?” she said, leaning on the frame. “I knew it. Two weeks. That’s your maximum.”

“I was just—”

“—checking something quickly,” she finished for him, but there was no real bite in it yet. “I know. Just… try to remember you promised me at least one proper holiday day after the Super Cup with Manchester United, okay?”

He nodded, genuinely intending to keep that promise. “One whole day. Maybe even two.”

“Careful, Mister Europa,” she smiled, though this time it was a little crooked. “You’ll spoil me.”

On another afternoon they were having lunch with her friends by the marina when his phone buzzed three times in thirty seconds. First Dario Mirri, then his agent, then an unknown English number. Huber stared at the screen, then turned it face down. “Not work?” one of her friends asked.

“Always work,” Francesca said, before he could answer. “But today, it can wait.”

For once, he let it. The calls went to voicemail. The messages stacked up. He even managed to forget about them for most of the evening. But later, when she went to shower and the apartment was quiet, he listened to them all in a row: a centre-back interested, an agent pushing to trigger a release clause, a Premier League sporting director “just checking the club’s situation”. By the end, his fingers were drumming the table again.

😶 The Quiet Before

On the last Sunday of June, they drove up towards Monte Pellegrino, parked, and walked a little way along the ridge path. Palermo sprawled below, sea fading into haze, the Barbera a small green bowl in the distance.

“You know what my father says?” Francesca asked, watching a ferry nose into the harbour. “He says this is the happiest I’ll ever see you. Between seasons. When everything is potential and nothing is going wrong yet.”

“He may be right,” Jacques admitted.

“And now?”

“Now,” he said, “we try to make sure what comes next is worthy of what we’ve already done.”

She looked at him for a long moment. “Just make sure you remember I exist when the season starts again. Manchester United, another trophy on the line… I know what you’re like.”

He smiled, reached for her hand. “This year,” he promised, “I’ll be better.”

Down below, somewhere in the countryside at the CFA Palermo, a fax machine and a dozen email chains were already arguing about release clauses, salaries and add-ons. In a week, Huber would be sitting across from one potential signing in a hotel lobby, trying to sell him on a project in pink, while somewhere else an agent would be negotiating a huge wage for a player ready to walk away from all Huber has built.

For now, the city shimmered in summer heat, the suitcase stayed under the bed, and Palermo’s coach allowed himself the rarest thing in modern football: a quiet week where the biggest decision was whether to have one Aperol or two.

It wouldn’t last, of course. Season four was already on its way.

👉 Next Up: One Joins, One Leaves. Champions League money has finally arrived in Palermo, but so have the sharks. As release clauses get triggered and agents start circling, Huber loses a pillar of his defence to Premier League wages and flies to a rainy Liverpool hotel to convince a forgotten centre-back that his future, and the Champions League anthem, should be in pink.

💸 63: One Joins, One Leaves

🗯️ “Mister, We Need to Talk About Troilo…”

The summer had barely started but the serious moves had begun.

The board had handed Palermo a €41m transfer budget following qualification for the Champions League. This was real money, not the carefully counted coins of Serie B, and even with such a vast sum almost all of it was already mentally spent. The club had moved first to secure the obvious: €34.5m dropped on Christian Comotto’s clause, the biggest signing in Palermo’s history, but the kind of deal that announces you as a Champions League club.

On Huber’s whiteboard, next to “Done – Comotto”, there was another name and number: Ranocchia → Al-Ahli – €24m (likely)

The Saudis, who had expressed interest in January had finally come in heavy for Filippo Ranocchia. At 27, with a couple years left on his contract, he was an important player for Huber’s team but there was room for improvement. It wasn’t an easy decision, but a logical one. Take the money now, reinvest it more frugally in a couple of players, and trust the next cycle.

Jacques was in the middle of that internal argument when the knock came. Gianluca Petrachi, the Director of Football, didn’t usually knock. He just appeared and filled the doorway with enthusiasm and energy. This time he hovered instead, one hand on the frame. “Jacques,” he said, “we have… a situation.”

On the desk in front of him was the notification from the lawyers: “Mariano Troilo – release clause activated – €8.5m – Norwich City, Lille OSC.”

Huber stared at it for a full three seconds. “I know about the clause,” Huber said eventually. “Norwich and Lille, we should be…”

“…fine?” Petrachi finished. “Well, I thought so to… But that was before he played 50 games and decided he wanted a salary befitting of a Europa League champion.”

They both knew why the clause existed, a concession in an early renewal, when Palermo were still clawing their way up and needed Troilo tied down on any terms he’d accept. It had seemed sensible then. Now it felt like a trap they’d set for themselves.

“Where is he?” Huber asked.

“Outside,” Mirri said. “He wants to talk.”

👋 The Goodbye

Mariano Troilo stepped in already dressed like a man halfway out the door: plain cap, his backpack slung over one shoulder, eyes a little too bright. “Mister.”

“Sit,” Huber said. “I’ve seen the email.” Troilo nodded, fingers laced tightly together. “Norwich and Lille,” Huber continued. “Both have hit the clause. It’s your choice.”

“It is,” Troilo said. “And I… I think you know what I’m going to say.” He took a breath. “Norwich,” he said. “They’re back in the Premier League. They will give me sixty-seven thousand a week. I can’t say no to that. Not with my family.”

There it was: the number Palermo couldn’t and wouldn’t match. Huber didn’t answer immediately. For a moment he just looked at the player who had been one of his constants: the centre-back who’d been there since the promotion push. A stalwart in the messy first year back in Serie A and then a leader in the mad European run.

“You know what you are walking into,” Huber said at last. “Relegation fight. New league. New language. A club that will see you as the guy they can blame if it goes wrong.”

Troilo gave a small, crooked smile. “With respect, Mister,” he said, “you asked me to stay when Atlético came the first time. You were right. I stayed. We won things. But this…” He exhaled. “This is the Premier League. If I don’t take this chance now, I won’t get another.”

Huber leaned back. “We were trying to renew you,” he said. “Better money. New clause, higher. You know that.”

“I know,” Troilo said softly. “But it wasn’t going to be this much money. Or this league.”

For a moment the room filled with all the unsaid things: the agent quietly whispering about “one big contract”, the family asking about schools in England, the knowledge that Palermo had just paid four times Troilo’s clause for a 20-year-old playmaker and that the world had noticed. Finally, Huber nodded. “I won’t stand in your way,” he said. “The clause is there. We will play Champions League because of you, so you earned the right to use it. I just wish we had set it higher.”

Troilo laughed, a short, guilty sound. “If you had, I’d be too scared to look at the email,” he said. They both stood. There was no drama or begging, just the quiet, slightly awkward air of a professional divorce.

“You were important,” Huber said, offering his hand. “From the beginning. Don’t forget that when you’re heading the ball out against Haaland.”

“And don’t forget me when you’re in the Champions League,” Troilo replied. “I’ll be the idiot watching ‘Palermo – Real Madrid’ from an English hotel bar.”

They hugged, briefly. On the way out, Troilo turned at the door. “And, Mister… thank you,” he added. “For making a player the Premier League even looks at.”

When the door closed, Huber let his forehead rest against the back of his hand for a moment. Eight and a half million for a cornerstone of his defence. A newly promoted Premier League side paying him a wage that Champions League Palermo couldn’t afford. European champions, yes. But still small enough to lose a leader in one email.

On the whiteboard, he wiped “Troilo – 6.92, 50 apps” away and underlined another line instead: CB NEEDED – starter. Ball-playing. Age 20–25. Ready now but with room to grow.

If Ranocchia went to Al-Ahli, the spine would go with him. The replacement had to be right.

🌧️ Liverpool, Rain, and a Second Chance

Three days later, the Palermo delegation stepped out into Liverpool rain. Huber, Tobi Okori, and Gianluca Petrachi moved quickly from taxi to hotel entrance, collars up against the wind. Somewhere behind the clouds, the city that had just lifted a Premier League title was already moving on to its next superhero. They were here for someone who hadn’t made the cut.

Giovanni Leoni. Three years in England. Nine league starts. Now on the transfer list following the €42m arrival of Eric Garcia from Barcelona. Born in Rome and signed by Liverpool as the next Italian centre-back prototype, Leoni was now 21 with his career in danger of calcifying on the bench. Inside a quiet meeting room at the Titanic Hotel overlooking the docks, Leoni was already waiting with his agent. Club tracksuit, arms folded, the body language of a man trying very hard not to show how much he hated being “available for transfer”.

“Mister Huber,” he said, standing. “I’ve watched your Palermo. You play… interesting football.”

“Interesting is better than boring,” Huber replied, shaking his hand. “Sit, please.”

They first talked through the tactical presentation: Leoni’s likely minutes, the build-up systems, video clips shown on a tablet. Palermo’s 4-3-3, the way Ahanor stepped up, how Anselmino tucked in, how much responsibility the right centre-back had on progressing the ball. 

“There are other offers from the Serie A,” Leoni’s agent said carefully. “Also, from Germany for more money.”

“And less football,” Huber said, turning to Leoni. “You’ve started nine league games in three years. You join one of those clubs, maybe you start fifteen. In Palermo, you start forty if you deserve it.” Leoni frowned, not hostile, just wary.

“With respect,” he said, “I left Italy for Liverpool because I wanted to play games like the ones you just played. Aston Villa, Monaco, Shakhtar. Champions League now. Your project is attractive, but… Palermo is not Liverpool.”

“No,” Huber agreed. “Palermo is not Liverpool. The Champions League anthem will sound different in our stadium. The trophy room is smaller. The training ground is smaller. But in Palermo, you are not fourth choice behind another €40m signing. You will be a pillar of something being built.”

Tobi turned the tablet around again, this time showing a depth chart. On the board: CBs – Leoni (?), Riad, Anselmino, with Ranocchia’s name also ghosted out, a faint outline of a player already almost gone to Saudi Arabia.

“Troilo has left,” Huber said. “Ranocchia is going. We are not pretending otherwise. We need a central defender who can defend space behind and balls in the box, who is brave enough to take the first pass under pressure, who is not scared to shout at people older than him. We watched all your games for Parma, for Liverpool, for the U21s. We saw that player.” 

Leoni glanced down at the ghosted Ranocchia line, then back up. “And when things go badly?” he asked. “When there are mistakes? In Liverpool, I was another name. In Palermo, I would be the signing. People won’t be patient.”

“Some won’t,” Huber admitted. “But the curva is not stupid. They know what it means for us to spend that money. They will give you credit for the courage to come, not just the clean sheets. And you won’t be alone. Riad next to you, Anselmino outside you, a keeper who’s also developing with this club. Your job is not to be perfect from day one. Your job is to grow with us.”

The agent broke in. “We’re hearing from Liverpool that around a €30m fee will get the deal done,” he said, half to Petrachi, half to his client. “Palermo only pay €20m now, the rest in instalments. It’s a big commitment for them. But wage-wise, you won’t get Liverpool numbers.”

Leoni gave a small smile. “Liverpool numbers for nine games,” he said. “Maybe Palermo numbers for forty is better.”

He fell quiet for a moment, staring out at the docks, ships blurring in the rain. When he spoke again, the voice was less guarded. “When I was a kid in Rome,” he said, “I dreamed of the Champions League song. Not just hearing it but playing in it. I thought Liverpool would be that. It wasn’t. Maybe I need somewhere that actually needs me.”

Huber didn’t jump in. He just waited. “Tell me honestly,” Leoni said at last. “If I sign, am I replacing Troilo? Or am I allowed to be myself?”

“You are not the ‘new Troilo’,” Huber said. “He was perfect for the team we were a couple of years ago. You are for the team we want to be now and in the future. If I catch anyone calling you ‘il nuovo Troilo’, I’ll ban the phrase from the training ground.”

That got the first real laugh of the meeting. Leoni looked at his agent. The agent gave a tiny shrug that translated to: it’s your career. “Okay,” Leoni said, turning back to Huber. “I’ll come. I want to play football again. And I want the anthem.”

They shook hands. Outside, the Liverpool rain kept falling. Inside, somewhere between Troilo’s departure and a budget built on Europa League prize money, Palermo had just agreed to spend €30.5m on a centre-back.

On the flight back to Sicily, Huber looked at the numbers in front of him from just the start of the transfer window.

Out: 

• Filippo Ranocchia – €24m (Al-Ahli)
• Mariano Troilo – €8.5m (Norwich, clause)
   

In:

• Christian Comotto – €34.5m (Milan, clause)
• Giovanni Leoni – €30.5m (Liverpool, €20m up front)

The sums were bigger than ever before, but the emotions were the same. Palermo were still a club that could lose a leader to the Premier League overnight, still a club balancing clauses and instalments. But they were also now a club that could sit in a Liverpool hotel, look a frustrated defender in the eye, and offer him not just minutes, but Champions League Football.

One joins. One leaves. The project keeps moving.

👉 Next Up: Summer in Pink, Midfield in Romanesco. With Comotto and Leoni already secured, Palermo’s recruitment drive goes into overdrive: a Rome-heavy midfield rebuild and ample depth and development pieces. While familiar faces move on, the club also quietly sharpens its tools with facilities and recruitment team expansions.

🌆 64: Roman Summer, Sicilian Heart

By the end of June, Huber’s office whiteboard looked less like a depth chart and more like a map of Italy with a thick line drawn between Rome and Palermo. For reasons that were part design and part market opportunity, half the arrows pointing into Sicily seemed to start on the banks of the Tiber.

This was the summer Palermo stopped shopping like underdogs and started spending like a Champions League club.

🏛️ The Roman Axis

The headline move was obvious: Christian Comotto, 20, born in Rome, bought permanently from Milan for his €34.5m clause. The most expensive signing in Palermo’s history, but the attacking connector Huber was happy to build the squad around. Comotto is now tied down long-term as the playmaker between midfield and attack. However, he wasn’t the only Roman to arrive.

From the capital also came Nicolò Pisilli, 23, snapped up from Roma for €10.5m plus €4.5m in instalments. A versatile midfielder who can operate either side of the pivot, he runs, presses, links and arrives late in the box. Not the loudest name, but exactly the sort of player that makes a high-energy midfield actually function across 50 games.

Then there was Giovanni Leoni, 21, another Roman, another statement. Signed from Liverpool for €30.5m – €20m now, the rest staggered, he arrives with three years of frustration behind him and only nine league starts to show for it. In Sicily he isn’t depth, he’s recruited to be a pillar of the defence alongside Chadi Riad, the successor to Troilo with a higher ceiling and a point to prove.

And, tucked between those big fees was a small steal: Davide Frattesi, 28, free after leaving Inter. A couple of Scudetti on his CV, accustomed to pressure, and happy to do the ugly running. In a squad full of players learning what it means to play every three days, Frattesi is the grown-up at the base of midfield, the one who’s already been where Palermo want to go.

🎰 Depth, Bets and Kids

Not every deal was headline material.

Reda Belahyane, 24, also joined from Lazio for €2.7m. The Moroccan-French midfielder is sharp in the tackle and tidy on the ball, and so he slots in behind Frattesi as depth in the holding role and as a reliable option to lock games down. It’s the kind of move that keeps a long season from collapsing when suspensions and muscle strains hit.

At centre-back, Troilo’s exit and Bani’s retirement demanded more than just Leoni. Palermo therefore moved for Giovanni De Luca, 17, from Salernitana for €3m and a healthy sell-on. Strong in the defending basics – tackling, marking, heading – he’ll train with the first team, pick up minutes where he can and hopefully grow in the same way Fateh Adjaoud did at left back.

Further up the pitch, the scouting department also pushed hard for something more speculative. Cristian Viano, 18, Argentinian, was brought in from Belgrano for €2.5m plus up to €5m in add-ons. Quick, aggressive, with an eye for goal, he can play as a central striker or from wide. Noticeably for the Curva, the Viano surname is a derivative of the common Sicilian surname Viviano. For now, he’ll compete with Giacomo Corona as the rotation forward and learn what European football feels like; inside the club there’s a quiet belief he might become one of those “how did they get him that cheap?” stories.

🍂 Goodbyes

On the way in, the revolving door rarely stops. On the way out, this summer carried more emotional weight.

Veteran defender Mattia Bani retired, and Manfredi Nespola departed at the end of his contract, the kind of subtle changes that mark the end of Palermo’s first, scrappier phase.

More painful were the sales that reshaped the squad’s core:

• Filippo Ranocchia to Al-Ahli for €24m
• Jacopo Segre to Brentford for €3m
• Jérémy Le Douaron to Rayo Vallecano for €3m 
• Samuel Giovane to Real Valladolid for €1.3m

And then the one that still leaves a mark on every staff meeting:

• Mariano Troilo to Norwich City for €8.5m after his release clause was activated, swapping Sicily for the Premier League and a salary Palermo had no intention of matching.

Those exits weren’t just about money. They pushed the squad into the southern and Mediterranean identity Huber and the board have been moving towards, while clearing space for younger players to take on more responsibility.

🕵️‍♂️ Scouts, Spies and a Bigger Map

The summer also changed the way Palermo look at the world.

Chief scout Rosario Argento finally hung up his notepad, and the club moved quickly to replace him with Felice Natalino, tempted away from Inter with a bigger role and a bigger wage. At 36, Calabrese by birth and highly rated in Milan, he becomes the point man for an expanded recruitment network.

Alongside Natalino came a few, including:

• Radu Baicu from Parma
• Gustavo Grossi from Cagliari
• Rafa Monfort from Udinese

There was one casualty of the reshuffle: scout Rui Águas left to join Inter, effectively swapping places with Natalino. Palermo are now a club that can both hire from and lose staff to the traditional powers, a small sign of how their status has shifted.

On the data side, Gianluca Conte, born in Lecce and brother of Antonio, arrived as a recruitment analyst after leaving Napoli and stepping out his brother's shadow. He effectively brings another obsessive set of eyes to the process of turning “we like this kid” into “we know exactly how he fits.”

🌱 Concrete, Grass and What Comes Next

Off the pitch, the board signed off on two decisions that might end up mattering more than any individual signing:

• €5.7m to upgrade the main training facilities.
• €4.6m to improve the youth complex.

Both projects are due for completion in January, and both nudge Palermo a little closer to the level they now compete at on the pitch. 

By the time the squad flew out for pre-season in Venice, the summer business looked like this:

In – €72.7m (€93.2m)

• Christian Comotto (Milan) – €34.5m
• Giovanni Leoni (Liverpool) – €30.5m (€20m up front)
• Nicolò Pisilli (Roma) – €15m (€10m up front)
• Davide Frattesi (free)
• Reda Belahyane (Lazio) – €2.7m
• Giovanni De Luca (Salernitana) – €3m
• Cristian Viano (Belgrano) – €2.5m + €5m in potential add-ons

Out – €39.8m

• Filippo Ranocchia (Al-Ahli) – €24m
• Mariano Troilo (Norwich) – €8.5m
• Jacopo Segre (Brentford) – €3m
• Jérémy Le Douaron (Rayo Vallecano) – €3m
• Samuel Giovane (Real Valladolid) – €1.3m
• Mattia Bani, Manfredi Nespola – released / retired

On paper, it’s a lot of movement and Palermo were arguably the most active team in Serie A. On the grass, however, it boils down to something more simple: a midfield with more depth and experience, a defence reshaped around Leoni, and a squad that looks far more like it belongs on the Champions League stage that Palermo have just stepped onto. The Roman names on the team sheet might be new but the heartbeat is still Sicilian, southern, and noisy.

👉 Next Up: New Shirts, New Number 10, Same Ambition. Before Frankfurt and Manchester United, Palermo go back to work: fresh kits, a new No.10 unveiled, a humid pre-season in Venice, and Huber quietly rewires his 4-3-3 for life as European champions.

👕 65: Shirts, Venice, and Frankfurt

⚽️ Pink and Blue: An ode to 93-94

The first time Jacques Huber saw the new home shirt, it was laid flat on his office desk like a piece of evidence. Pure pink, thin black trim at the collar and white under the sleeves, nothing clever, nothing experimental. Just Palermo. On the sleeve, though, was the new detail that changed everything: a Europa League winners patch stitched in bronze and black. Same colour, same sponsor, and same fabric as before, but now every time one of his players pulled it on, their arm would carry the proof of what they’d done in Belgrade.

The away kit was simpler. Dark blue, clean lines, with pink accents on the shoulders and socks. The retro badge that had made the fans fall in love last season was gone, replaced again by the modern crest. Commercial decisions and brand alignment apparently. He made his peace with it when he saw how the colours popped under the Barbera lights in the first photoshoot.

The third shirt was where someone in the Adidas design department had clearly gone a bit mad in the best possible way. Mostly white, with pale blue flashes echoing the 1993–94 Palermo home pattern, dark blue shorts, and a retro trefoil on the chest that made half the city’s thirty- and forty-somethings misty-eyed. It was a beauty, echoing both the history and future of the club.

🔟 The Sicilian Ten

This summer’s headline wasn’t just the shirts, it was the number on the back of one of them. 

With Ranocchia gone to Saudi Arabia, the number 10 was vacant for the first time in Huber’s reign. There wasn’t a real debate, but the club built an entire campaign around it anyway. A homegrown Sicilian, the new face of the project, wearing the most loaded number in football, it needed a bit of theatre. Palermo recreated the old Paulo Dybala signing photo, only this time the grinning kid standing at the desk, was Marco Turconi. Same office, same angle, different era. 

The caption everywhere around the city was simple: “Il Dieci di Palermo è di nuovo siciliano.” (“The Ten of Palermo is Sicilian again.”)

The photoshoot also doubled as a product launch. Turconi wore an imitation of a vintage Palermo tracksuit top, white with a pink stripe and retro badge, zip half open. It sold out in the club shop within a week.

For now, though, the 10 is still folded in a box. Turconi will wear 18 one last time in Frankfurt against Manchester United in the UEFA Super Cup; only after that will the new number, with all its weight, become real.

📋 Chalkboard Notes

On the board, the shape is still a 4–3–3, but the emphasis this summer has shifted.

With Leoni arriving alongside Riad and Anselmino, Huber wants Palermo to play through the press more deliberately, inviting pressure. Goal-kicks and restarts are now designed to find the centre-backs first, trusting their feet to drag opponents forward and open lanes into Turconi, Frattesi or Comotto. 

Out of possession, the message is the opposite of last spring’s “save the legs”: press higher, press harder, spend more time with the ball than without it. On it, the tempo when winning the ball has been nudged down a notch, the hope is for fewer rushed transitions, more control, and to use the extra technical quality in midfield to suffocate games rather than chase them. The structure is still recognisable: Ahanor tucks inside alongside Frattesi in build-up, Palermo sliding into a 3-2-5 in possession with Comotto and Turconi roaming higher and looking for the half-spaces. Same pink lineup, but with hopefully more control and confidence.

🌫️ Venice, Friendly Fire

Pre-season this year meant boats. Palermo’s camp was set on the mainland outside Venice, but every rest day seemed to involve a vaporetto, narrow streets and staff trying to keep players away from gelato stands. Training in the humid coastal air was a different kind of fitness test, even the rondos felt slower until the sun dipped.

On the pitch, the summer had its usual shape: a gentle stumble, a gradual sharpening, and then a statement or two. Freiburg came to the Barbera first and reminded everyone that European winners or not, rust is real. A 2–1 defeat, Tzimas with the only Palermo goal, and Huber muttering about distances and trigger presses.

In Venice, against Cagliari during the camp, things clicked a little more. Cristian Viano, the new Argentinian forward with Sicilian roots in his surname, announced himself with a brace in a 2–2 draw, one poacher’s finish, one thumped in off the bar on the counter. “He runs like he’s late for something,” Tobi Okori joked afterwards.

Torino fell next, 3–2 in a friendly that looked nothing like a friendly. Yeremay and Hassan both scored, cutting in off their wings like it was May again, and Comotto added the third with the kind of late run that justified every euro of his fee.

Livorno away turned into a showcase. 7–1, the kind of scoreline that means very little in July but still makes highlight reels: Belahyane’s first goal in pink, another Viano double, Faedda finally getting his name on the board, Pisilli and a Palumbo brace filling in the rest.

The real marker, though, came against Serie A’s most successful club. Juventus, also tuning up for their season, rotated heavily. Palermo didn’t care either way. Comotto twice and Tzimas once, a 3–0 that felt like a ghost of last year’s league meeting. A ruthless performance, that left Huber with his hands in his pockets and a performance that said more than any quote could.

Finally, Palermo took on Atromitos in a routine 3–0 win ahead of the start of the season. Goals from Comotto, Palumbo and Pisilli reinforced Palermo’s recent habit of goals from midfield.

Pre-season results:

• Palermo 1–2 Freiburg — Tzimas
• Cagliari 2–2 Palermo — Viano x2
• Torino 2–3 Palermo — Yeremay, Hassan, Comotto
• Livorno 1–7 Palermo — Belahyane, Viano x2, Faedda, Pisilli, Palumbo x2
• Juventus 0–3 Palermo — Comotto x2, Tzimas
• Palermo 3–0 Atromitos — Comotto, Palumbo, Pisilli

📌 Other Summer Notes

The phone rang more than usual. Roma called first, asking permission to speak, offering an interview about the project in the capital. Huber didn’t even let it reach the “formal approach” stage. “I already coach a capital,” he told Petrachi. “Just one without Parliament.” The enquiry died there.

Inside his own dressing room, there was a small shift in hierarchy. With Nikolaou edging towards a different role, Ferran Quetglás was named vice-captain. A quiet promotion but an important one; the keeper who’d once looked like a stopgap now had an armband in his locker and a little more weight on his shoulders.

Outside the club, people talked about Honest Ahanor. Milan scouts appeared at more than one friendly; someone from Barcelona was spotted in the directors’ box at the Juventus game. Huber didn’t bother playing coy in recruitment meetings. “If they want him, they better bring a serious number,” he told staff. So far, nobody had.

✈️ Frankfurt on the Horizon

On the last evening before flying out, the squad walked off the Venice training pitch in their new match-ready shirts, shadows stretching across the grass as the sun dropped behind the trees. Huber lingered a moment longer, watching Turconi stay out with a bag of balls, practising shots from the edge of the box in that number 18 for what would be the last time.

The next stop would Deutsche Bank Park, Frankfurt. Champions League winners Manchester United on one side, Europa League winners Palermo on the other, a Super Cup that will say more about rhythms and readiness than about legacies. But when the teams walk out and the cameras pan across the line-ups, there will be something new stitched into the season’s opening frame: Palermo in their iconic pink, a small Europa League patch on the sleeve, and a club about to find out whether last year’s dream can be more than a one-off. 

👉Next Up: Frankfurt, Manchester and Another Trophy on the Line. Pre-season is over; the new kits and tactical tweaks get their first real examination under the lights in Frankfurt. Manchester United arrive as Champions League holders but without a manager, Palermo turn up with a Europa League patch, Turconi wearing 18 one last time and Quetglás as new vice-captain. Ninety minutes (or more) to find out what Huber’s refreshed 4-3-3 looks like when the Super Cup is at stake.

🏆 66: Super Cup in Frankfurt

Frankfurt, 9pm, 22 degrees and humid. The Deutsche Bank Park split in half: one end a thick block of red, waving flags and singing about another trophy that might be coming, the other a band of pink still half-hoarse from Belgrade.

Champions League winners Manchester United on one side, but, bizarrely, no manager on the bench after Marco Rose left for the Germany job. Europa League winners Palermo on the other, Huber in his usual black suit and pink tie, and only one absentee from his best XI: Haissem Hassan out injured, so Cauan Baptistella started on the right.

Palermo lined up in their now familiar 4-3-3: Quetglás; Anselmino, Leoni, Riad, Ahanor; Frattesi holding, Turconi and Comotto ahead; Yeremay left, Baptistella right, Tzimas through the middle.

United went Kobel; Militão–Yoro–Lisandro–Maatsen; Ugarte and Mainoo; Amad, Bruno Fernandes, and Rashford behind Champions League final hero Benjamin Šeško.

Huber, as a Leeds fan, had joked in the week that only Manchester United could win the Champions League and arrive at the Super Cup without a manager. On the night, his team looked determined to show who actually had the plan.

🏟️ A Tight Final, Cracked Open Late

Palermo started with more bite than they did in Belgrade. Within five minutes Baptistella stepped inside onto his left and fizzed a shot from 25 metres that forced Kobel into a smart save low to his right. United answered almost immediately: Šeško peeled off Riad and lashed over from a promising position, the first warning shot of a strange night for the Slovenian.

Amad was United’s liveliest outlet, running at Ahanor and Anselmino, but Palermo’s structure held. Frattesi patrolled the space in front of Leoni and Riad, Comotto dropped between the lines to help them play out, and slowly the pink shirts began to keep the ball for longer and longer stretches. One scare did arrive though on 35’ when a quick United move freed Šeško to finish from close range, but the flag was up early. Miles offside, and Quetglás was already barking at his back line before the replay even confirmed it.

Beyond that, the first half drifted into a kind of controlled stalemate. Palermo had more of the ball, United more of the nearly-moments, but clear chances were rare. At half-time it was 0–0, and Huber gathered his players tight. “We keep the ball,” he told them. “We show we have courage and we belong. The chances will come, but not if we panic.”

The pattern barely changed after the restart. Palermo circulated possession, Frattesi and Turconi constantly offering angles, Yeremay and Baptistella taking turns to drive inside, but both boxes stayed relatively quiet. On the hour, Huber made his first move: Pisilli on for Comotto, fresh legs and more vertical running from midfield. With twenty minutes left, the next tweak came. Palumbo replaced Baptistella, Turconi slid out to the right, and Viano later came on for a leggy Tzimas. Palermo now had more midfielders on the pitch and a young enthusiastic nine to stretch the back line.

On 84 minutes, they finally found the moment they’d been waiting for. Anselmino, high on the right, clipped a teasing ball towards the edge of the area. Pisilli, ghosting in from midfield, never let it hit the turf. He met it first time, side-on, catching the dropping pass sweetly on the volley. The ball flew past Kobel into the far corner. A pre-season signing from Roma, scoring like that against Manchester United in his first real showpiece for Palermo. 1–0, and a huddle of pink shirts swallowed him by the corner flag.

After a rather pedestrian game, the goal caused United to wake up properly. In the 92nd minute Šeško somehow headed over a perfect Cunha cross from close range, a miss that had half the Palermo bench on their knees. They looked like they’d got away with it.  They hadn’t. On 96 minutes, with United throwing everything forward, Cunha again found space wide. This time his cross was a deft cutback and Bruno Fernandes, so quiet all night, arrived between Leoni and Riad to guide a composed finish past Quetglás. 1–1, last kick of normal time, and the Super Cup went to penalties.

⚽️ Penalties: Turconi and his Last Time in Number 18

There was barely time for extra instructions. The shoot-out was both at the Palermo end and they got to take first. Quetglás was in front of his own fans, no longer wearing the armband with the substitution of Palumbo. However, without Tzimas on the pitch, Palermo were missing their usual taker. Instead, the Rosanero’s list included a couple of new signings. 

1. 🟢 Antonio Palumbo vs Kobel
Calm as ever, Palumbo placed the ball, waited for the whistle and passed it into the corner. Kobel went the wrong way. 1–0.

1. 🔴 Bruno Fernandes vs Quetglás
The Champions League winner stuttered, tried to send the keeper the wrong way. Quetglás didn’t bite. He guessed right, low to his left, and pushed it away. Advantage Palermo.

2. 🟢 Davide Frattesi vs Kobel
The new signing from Inter stepped up and absolutely lashed his kick high and hard. 2–0.

2. 🔴 Benjamin Šeško vs Quetglás
A horror night got worse. Quetglás made himself huge, stayed central and reacted late, saving with his legs as Šeško went too close to the middle. Two penalties faced, two saved.

3. 🔴 Yeremay vs Kobel
Chance to almost finish it. Yeremay went for power across the keeper, Kobel read it and parried. A lifeline for United.

3. 🟢 Matheus Cunha vs Quetglás
Cunha waited for the movement and rolled it the other way. 2–1 in the shoot-out, but Palermo still ahead.

4. 🟢 Niccolò Pisilli vs Kobel
Hero of normal time, cool again. Straight down the middle, high enough that even a staying keeper would have struggled to reach it. 3–1.

4. 🟢 Ian Maatsen vs Quetglás
Maatsen needed to score and did, rifling into the roof of the net. 3–2.

Now it was simple: score, and the Super Cup went to Sicily. 

Of course it was Marco Turconi. The young playmaker walked up in the number 18 for the final time. It was the number he’d worn through the whole climb, and it was one game before it officially became 10. A small glance at Kobel, a pause, a little shuffle of the shoulders. Then he passed it, ice-cold, into the opposite corner. The keeper went the wrong way, the net rippled, and Turconi turned away to the Palermo fans with both fists clenched.

5. 🟢 Marco Turconi vs Kobel

Palermo 4–2 on penalties. Another European night, another trophy.

🎉 Frankfurt Night, More Pink Confetti

When Turconi’s penalty hit the net, the Palermo bench emptied in a straight line towards the corner flag. Quetglás sprinted to the centre circle, gloves in the air, before being swallowed by a pile of pink shirts. In the Palermo end, the new Europa League winners patch glinted under the Frankfurt lights as pink scarves and plastic cups went flying; the thousands of Sicilians that made the trip sounded like the whole island was in the stadium. 

The trophy ceremony felt almost surreal. United’s players collected their medals in near silence, while Palermo gave them a guard of honour, still wide-eyed and half-laughing at the idea they were in this match at all. Palumbo took the cup first, then instinctively handed it to Quetglás, so that they could do a joint lift. Two penalty saves earns certain privileges and in his first game as vice-captain, Quetglás had impressed. Amongst it all, Leoni embraced Huber saying these were the nights he had come for. 

The celebrations were loud, but not reckless. A few songs broke out at the back of the plane on the journey home, someone started a gentle “campioni d’Europa” that rolled up and down the aisle, and staff clinked bottles of beer more out of relief than excess. A few players had headphones on, the match and penalties replaying on screens in front of them. Most of the squad drifted between chatting, dozing, and quietly scrolling through headlines. It felt less like a party and more like a deep breath at 30,000 feet: one more trophy in the bag and the season had barely started.

🎙 Post-Match – “Another Step, Not the Destination”

Sky Sport Italia – Jacopo Vezzosi:
“Jacques, Europa League, now the Super Cup. Tonight, you beat the European champions. What does this trophy mean for Palermo?”

Huber:
“It means we start the season believing we belong. The Europa League was not a lucky year; tonight shows that. That being said, it is still not the destination, if we think this is enough, then Manchester United will stay Manchester United and Palermo will stay as the surprise package.”

BBC Radio – Jonathan Woods:
“Two penalty saves from Quetglás, the winning kick from Turconi. Were you ever tempted to change your list?”

Huber (smiling):
“No. If you start making substitutions for penalties and playing games with the planned order, you send the message that you don’t trust your players. Ferrán is brave, Turconi lives for these moments, Pisilli already scored the most difficult goal of the night. My job is to give them the confidence and the platform to perform. After that, it’s all their history to write.”

Gazzetta dello Sport – Simona Damone:
“What can you say about Niccolò Pisilli? His first real game with Palermo and with an outrageous volley and calm penalty. Surely Roma will not be happy watching this…”

Huber:
“No I don’t think so. I hope Roma are happy because they developed a good player. Our job now is to help him become a great one. Niccolò has personality and bravery. And I love that in a player. You don’t hit a ball like that in the 84th minute without personality.”

📰 Reactions and the Curva

The papers in Italy went straight for the contrasts:

• “United senza allenatore, Palermo col progetto”
• “Pisilli & Quetglás, la Supercoppa parla rosa”
• “Turconi: 18 per l’ultima volta, ma sempre numero 10”

On social media, clips of Turconi’s walk to the spot racked up views in the millions, slow-motion eyes to Kobel, the little feint, the send-the-keeper-the-wrong-way calm. Palermo fans spammed the replies with “STARBOY” and photoshopped images of the number 10 shirt already hanging from the Barbera rafters.

In Frankfurt, long after the ceremony, the Curva-style wall of pink was still singing as the stewards tried to usher people out. One chant carried loudest, half celebration, half challenge for what’s coming next: “Belgrado, Francoforte, adesso portaci in Champions!” (Belgrade, Frankfurt… now take us into the Champions League).

👉 Next Up: Draw Day, Same Table. With the Super Cup tucked away, attention flips to a different kind of European night: balls in bowls and logos on a screen. On Champions League draw day, Huber, Halimi and Okori head back to the same little place they watched the Europa League groups appear last year – same food, same table, new competition. Between plates of pasta and glances at phones, Palermo’s staff wait to find out which giants are coming to the Barbera next… and whether their new “lucky” ritual has any magic left.

🍝 67: Champions League — Quattroventi, Again

📱 The Draw on a Phone Screen

The maître d’ didn’t even need to ask this time. “Buona sera, Mister Huber. Solito tavolo?”

Ristorante Quattroventi was half-full, windows open to the late-summer air, cutlery and low voices humming underneath. Last year this place had seen Jacques, Tobi Okori and Samir Halimi nervously watching a phone for the Europa League draw. Palermo had gone on to win the thing. Superstition is just routine that works, so of course they came back.

Tobi slid into his chair, already fishing his phone out. “UEFA are late,” he muttered. “Of course they are.” The waiter arrived with menus and a grin. “Champions of Europa, eh?” he said, tapping an imaginary patch on his sleeve. “First the cup, now the Super Cup. You lot are making my son insufferable, he only talks about Turconi now.”

Samir laughed. “He’s got good taste.”

“Tonight,” the waiter added, “dinner is on the house if you get Barcelona or Real Madrid.” Huber raised an eyebrow. “If we get either, I might need something stronger than dinner,” he said.

They ordered quickly, pasta for Samir, grilled fish for Tobi, and something light for Huber. “Okay,” Tobi said, angling the screen between the three of them as the draw finally began. “Champions League in the pocket. Eight games. Thirty-six teams. The greatest competition in club football.”

Samir shook his head. “In the old days, you got a couple tricky teams and that was that. Now everyone flies everywhere and nobody gets any rest.” “Welcome to modern football,” Huber said. “Just tell me where we’re going.”

The first name appeared. “Home,” Tobi read. “Slavia Prague.” Samir let out a low whistle. “Not bad. It could be worse for a debut. God I can’t wait to hear the anthem for the first time…” Huber nodded slowly. Slavia: organised and awkward, but not a giant. “Good first step if we respect them,” he said. “Bad one if we don’t.”

A few taps later, Tobi’s thumb froze. “Fenerbahçe away,” he announced. “Istanbul.” Samir groaned theatrically. “We only just survived in Thessaloniki and Villa Park and now they throw Kadıköy at us.”

Huber just smiled. “At least the food will be good,” he said. “The atmosphere… well we’ll see how the players cope.” The plates arrived, steaming bowls of pasta and a grilled sea bass, but the phone stayed in the middle of the table, glowing between wine glasses.

“Next big one,” Tobi said, straightening. “Barcelona at the Barbera.” Nobody spoke for a second. Outside, a scooter honked loudly as it rattled past on the cobbles. Inside, Huber felt his shoulders rise, then drop again. Samir broke the silence. “You know that thing people say about ‘nights you dream of as a child’?” he said. “This is one of them.” Huber nodded. “For the players,” he said. “For the city.” He allowed himself a small smile. “For me too.”

The draw kept spinning. “Dortmund away,” Tobi continued. “Yellow Wall and all the noise.” “Fast in transition,” Huber said. “We’ll need Leoni and Riad awake for that one.” They ate between names now, the rhythm of fork and announcement blending into one.

“Bodø/Glimt away,” Tobi read. “Norway in November and on that fake pitch.” Samir laughed. “From Kadıköy to the Arctic circle. UEFA are trying to test your wardrobe, Mister.”

“Shakhtar at home,” Tobi added a moment later, and the table fell quiet again. “Belgrade reunion,” Samir said softly. “They’ll come with a point to prove.” Huber took a sip of water. “Good,” he said. “So do we.”

Two more taps. “Arsenal away,” Tobi said. “Chelsea at home.” This time there was no joke from Samir. Just a low, impressed whistle. “Three English clubs in a year,” he said. “We really don’t do half-measures, do we?”

Huber leaned back, letting the list run through his head:

• Slavia Prague (H)
• Fenerbahçe (A)
• Barcelona (H)
• Dortmund (A)
• Bodø/Glimt (A)
• Shakhtar (H)
• Arsenal (A)
• Chelsea (H)

Tobi zoomed the fixture list into view so they could see the dates crowding around league games and the Super Cup they’d just won. “It’s a lot, Jacques. No free hits this year,” he said quietly. “It’s what we wanted,” Huber replied. “Europa League, Super Cup, now this. If we complain about the schedule, they’ll tell us to qualify less.”

Samir twirled his fork through the last strands of pasta. “So what’s the target, Mister?” he asked. “Top eight? Playoff round? Just not embarrassing ourselves against Barcelona?” Huber watched the little UEFA logo spin on the replay of the draw, then Tobi locked his phone and slid it away. “Target is simple,” he said. “When the last game comes, I want people to look at Palermo and think we belong in this competition. If we do that, the rest will follow.”

Outside, the night air from the Foro Italico drifted in, carrying the usual mix of car horns and distant sea. Quattroventi’s waiter passed by their table again, nodding at the empty plates and the phone now face-down. “Good news?” he asked. “Big games,” Samir said. “Barcelona. Arsenal. Chelsea. A couple of crazy trips.” The waiter grinned. “Then we will keep your table,” he said. “You will need it after each draw.” Huber smiled back, already half in September and imagining a line of pink shirts facing the Champions League logo.

Lucky restaurants only work if you do.

👉 Next Up: Opening Nights – From Fiorentina to Kadıköy. The season finally kicks off: a revenge rerun with Fiorentina at the Barbera, Palermo’s first ever Champions League anthem against Slavia Prague, and a baptism of noise away to Fenerbahçe. New signings bed in, old scars itch, and we start to find out what this new-look, title-winning Palermo actually is when the real games begin.

💨 68: Flying Start and the First Bruise

🏃🏻 Hitting the Ground Running

Matchday 1 — Palermo 2–1 Fiorentina (H)
Serie A opened with a rerun of last season’s finale and an early scare for Palermo, as Roberto Piccoli met a corner at the near post to put Fiorentina ahead inside three minutes. Huber’s side responded by pinning the visitors back and on 15’ they got level, Tzimas breaking through one-on-one and seeing his effort deflect in off Luca Ranieri for 1–1. Three minutes later the turnaround was complete when Yeremay arrived in the box to sweep home and make it 2–1. From there Palermo controlled the ball, circulating it patiently and limiting Fiorentina mostly to counters; half-chances came and went at both ends but no further goals followed. A 2–1 win, plenty of possession, and the champions of Europe up and running in Serie A.

Matchday 2 — Atalanta 0–3 Palermo (A)
In Bergamo, Palermo produced a ruthless away performance built on a man-of-the-match display from their goalkeeper. Haissem Hassan, back from injury, needed just two minutes to cut inside and fire Palermo ahead, but Atalanta hit back hard, piling on pressure and winning a penalty on 14’ after Honest Ahanor mistimed a challenge – only for Quetglás to deny Eljif Elmas from the spot. The hosts kept creating chances, but Quetglás and some desperate defending kept the lead intact, and on 44’ Palermo punished them again when Christian Comotto finished off a rare foray forward to make it 2–0 against the run of play. Any doubt vanished just after half-time as Davide Frattesi drove in his first Palermo goal with a low strike from the edge of the box. Atalanta’s belief ebbed away, the game drifted, and Huber’s side managed the final stages calmly to close out an impressive 3–0 victory.

Matchday 3 — Palermo 6–0 Torino (H)
At the Barbera, Palermo ripped Torino apart in a blistering attacking display. Yeremay pounced on a loose ball to open the scoring on 7’, and within ten minutes Torino were reeling as Stefanos Tzimas swept in a cut-back on 12’ and then raced through to make it 3–0 on 17’. Haissem Hassan added a fourth with a tidy finish on 32’, before Tzimas completed his hat-trick on 49’ with another smart effort to cap a devastating individual performance. The loudest cheer of the night, though, was reserved for Cristian Viano, who announced himself with his first goal for the club on 67’ after a sharp driving run and clinical finish to seal a statement 6–0 win.

Champions League — Palermo 2–0 Slavia Prague (H)
A historic night at the Barbera as the Champions League anthem rang out in Palermo for the first time, and Huber’s side rose fully to the occasion. Slavia Prague were pinned back from the opening minutes and fell behind on 20’, when Stefanos Tzimas drifted into space and tapped in an Honest Ahanor cross from three yards. The first half was one-way traffic, Palermo launching wave after wave of attacks while the visitors failed to register a shot on target. After the break, it was more of the same and both Tzimas and Haissem Hassan struck the post as the pressure mounted. The second goal finally arrived on 75’, Niccolò Pisilli’s long-range effort taking a huge deflection and looping in for an own goal to make it 2–0. Slavia never managed a single effort on target, and Palermo’s Champions League debut on home soil ended with a dominant, almost effortless 2–0 win.

Matchday 4 — Napoli 1–2 Palermo (A)
Huber’s absurd record against Napoli rolled on in a clinical away display. Palermo struck first on 10’, Marco Turconi threading a perfect through ball for Stefanos Tzimas, who fired low across the keeper for 0–1. The same combination undid Napoli again on 24’, Turconi pouncing after Palermo won the ball high and slipping Tzimas in to make it 2–0 with another precise finish. Scott McTominay dragged Napoli back into it on 36’ with a thunderous strike, but after the break the game settled into a tense, even contest with few clear chances either way. Any late siege was cut short on 88’, when Giovanni Di Lorenzo was shown a straight red for a reckless two-footed challenge on Leonardo Faedda. Palermo saw out stoppage time calmly to claim a 2–1 win and another huge step in a blistering start to the league season.

Champions League — Fenerbahçe 1–0 Palermo (A)
Palermo’s first truly hostile European night of the season ended in frustration on the Bosphorus. In a deafening Şükrü Saracoğlu, Huber’s side actually started well, carving out a couple of promising moments in transition, but it was Fenerbahçe who struck first: on 25 minutes Zeki Çelik stepped onto a loose ball outside the box and rifled a precise low effort beyond Quetglás for 1–0. 

From there the game grew increasingly scrappy. Palermo struggled to really control possession in the noise and chaos, yet still manufactured the better chances, only to waste them repeatedly. Stefanos Tzimas, in particular, endured a night to forget in front of goal. Wave after wave of half-openings came and went without the final touch, and Fenerbahçe were happy to retreat into a compact shell and defend what they had. When the whistle went it finished 1–0, a first Champions League setback for Palermo and a harsh reminder that at this level, dominance on the shot map means nothing if you can’t find a finish.

Matchday 5 — Empoli 1–2 Palermo (A)
Palermo kept their league momentum rolling with a professional away win in Tuscany. Haissem Hassan struck early, finishing off a slick move down the right on 9 minutes after twisting his full-back inside out and drilling low across goal. On 21’ he was decisive again, another dangerous cross forcing defender Gabriele Guarino to turn the ball into his own net under pressure to make it 2–0. From there Huber’s side largely controlled proceedings, circulating the ball calmly and limiting Empoli to hopeful efforts without ever quite finding the third goal to kill it. That kept a sliver of jeopardy alive, and in stoppage time Daichi Kamada pulled one back with a neat finish on 90’, denying Palermo the clean sheet their dominance probably deserved. Even so, it finished 2–1 – three more points, another strong away performance, and Hassan once again at the heart of everything good in pink.

📊 League Table Snapshot

Five games in, Palermo sit exactly where their form suggests: top.

• 1st – Palermo: 5 games, 5 wins, 15 scored, 3 conceded, 15 points.
• Chasing pack: Sassuolo (2nd) lead the early queue on 12 points from six games, with Juventus and Milan just behind on 10 from four. Bologna and Napoli lurk on 9.
• Slow starters: Inter are marooned in mid-table, while Fiorentina and Lazio – both already beaten by Palermo in recent months, find themselves in the bottom three after winless starts.

It’s early, the table still elastic, but the picture is clear enough: Palermo have hit the new season at full sprint, and everyone else is playing catch-up.

📝 Early Season Notes

Beyond the pitch, the early weeks brought a few important shifts in the background. Huber’s work on the touchline was recognised with back-to-back Manager of the Month awards for August and September, while Stefanos Tzimas collected September’s Player of the Month after tearing through the opening fixtures.

There was a price to pay in the wide areas, though: Yeremay picked up a calf strain that will sideline him for six to seven weeks, forcing Palermo to lean even harder on Hassan, Baptistella, Faedda, and Viano.

Upstairs, the club moved quickly to secure two cornerstones. Ferrán Quetglás and Stefanos Tzimas both signed new five-year deals, each with sizeable release clauses – €36.5m for the goalkeeper, €88m for the No. 9 – figures high enough that any bid would have almost certainly come with boardroom pressure attached regardless. Juventus even tested the waters by offering Huber an interview, but he turned it down without a second thought. For now, his project is in pink, and the start to the season suggests there’s still plenty of room for it to grow.

👉Next Up: Two Tune-Ups, Then Barcelona. Palermo have banked a perfect start in Serie A, but Huber’s focus now is on threading a tight needle: rotate just enough to survive two tricky league fixtures, without losing rhythm or bodies, before the biggest Champions League night the Barbera has ever hosted. Barcelona are coming to Sicily, and the next blog follows how Palermo try to arrive at that game still flawless and ready for the anthem.

It's been great catching up on this, the images are quality too!