Let’s tell the truth: had he played today, with TV cameras filming every single thing happening in the field, Benito Lorenzi would have been suspended for more matches than he could play. His crystalline talent was only paired by his bad temper. The anecdotes about him are so many that a book wouldn’t suffice. He was hot-tempered, tricky, talkative and provocative. He was arrogant with his opponents and ready to do anything it took to win a game. That’s why fans loved him.

Lorenzi was born in the province of Pistoia (Tuscany) in 1925. He was a very sharp and quarrelsome child. This prompted his mother, tired of his bravados, to give him the nickname that he kept through his whole life: Veleno, poison. He began his career in 1946, playing for Empoli, in serie B, scoring 15 times in 40 games, even if official records attest only 39 games played.

 

The reason lies in one of the many anecdotes related to Lorenzi: one of his teammates, the goalkeeper Borgioli, was asked by a journalist about the starting lineup for the upcoming match. Instead of giving him the name of Lorenzi, he said that “with number 9, as striker, we will have Pirinai”. Pirinai, however, was not a player, but the village idiot, after whom Borgioli had jokingly named Lorenzi. The journalist fell for the joke and registered the name of Pirinai, which was then reported on the official box scores.

In the following year, Lorenzi was traded to Inter, after a successful tryout that ended, as Lorenzi recalls, with Meazza “putting his hand on my shoulder. And at the time that was quite something.” His impact was impressive, and he scores 14 goals in 29 games during his first season. His quickness, together with his innate scoring instincts and his shrewdness, made him a very hard test for opponents’ defenses. His attitude, however, didn’t change: during his very first game for Inter he was expelled for a fight with Alessandria player Francesco Rosetta.

 

He was flamboyant, disrespectful, quick with the tongue as he was with the ball. In one word, he was “Poison”. One anecdote sums up perfectly the qualities of Lorenzi as a player and as a troublemaker: in 1947 Inter was facing the archrival Juventus. Lorenzi was at his first year in Serie A, but had already made a name for himself. Juventus defenders, and particularly Pietro Rava, could not contain his quickness and exuberance. Lorenzi scored the first and the second goal, making fun of opponents after each of them.

 

Exasperated by the umpteenth provocation, Rava, a massive guy, tryed to punch Lorenzi. Benito, quick as usual, was able to duck and avoid the punch, that ended up hitting his teammate Quaresima, who fell to the ground senseless. After five minutes, when he got himself together, he asks: “What was it? A bomb?"

In the following four years, Lorenzi affirmed himself as one of the most talented and prolific strikers in Italy, scoring 65 goals in 120 matches. He did not win the championship, but his amazing performances granted him the first call from the National team. Lorenzi’s relationship with the Azzurri was always a troubled one: excluded in 1948, he was ejected from the World Cup in 1954 for kicking the Swiss referee Viana.

 

Although at the time he was indicated as the only responsible, Veleno later underlined that he was only one among many: “Of course I kicked him, but I was one of the last to do it. When I started, the others had already pushed him and kicked him: he deserved it.” During the 1952-1953 seasons, Lorenzi, together with the talented foreigners Nyers and Skoglund and goalkeeper Ghezzi, lead Inter to two consecutive championships, scoring 24 goals in 54 matches. He played for Inter four other years, ending his career at Alessandria and Brescia. During his years in Milan he scored a total of 143 goals in 314 matches, an amazing figure for the time.

Lorenzi was the epitome of the fighter, a master of provocation who, like Josè Mourinho many years later, identified anyone outside his team as the enemy. He took rivalries very seriously, doing everything he could to win and possibly humiliate opponents. For this reason, Lorenzi was hated by other teams as much as he was loved by Inter fans. His provocations were beyond count, and were at the same time witty and hilarious.

 

During his first years at Inter, he took revenge of an opponent who was hitting him from behind by squeezing his testicles so strongly that the other started screaming. When the referee approached, Lorenzi let go of the testicles and, with an innocent face, said: “Sciur Marchesi, I didn’t do anything”. The referee had not seen him, and showed a yellow card to the defender for pushing Lorenzi. Another time, when he scored a goal to Merlo (blackbird in Italian), Livorno’s goalkeeper, he went to him saying: “Aren’t you a blackbird? Then whistle!”. He invented the nickname of “Marisetta” for Giampiero Boniperti, mocking his refined habits.

 

He insulted the Queen every time he played against John Charles, only to hear the Juventus giant answering him: “She is not my Queen. I am Welsh”. Lorenzi was even able to get into a fight with Nyers, one of his most talented teammates, punching him violently for missing an easy goal against Fiorentina. When Nyers, outraged, tried to leave the field, Lorenzi followed him and threatened him to beat him up hadn’t he stayed. Nyers stayed and scored, taking revenge on Lorenzi by chasing and punching him after the goal. Lorenzi laughed, accepting retaliation with a smile.

His greatest act, however, took place in a heated derby against Milan during his last season at Inter, in Autumn 1957. Inter is leading 1-0, when referee Concetto Lo Bello called a dubious penalty for Milan. While his teammates were vehemently protesting, Lorenzi exploited the confusion and asked his put a half lemon below the ball. Milan fans from the stands try to warn Cucchiaroni, the designated shooter, but he didn’t hear them, and the shot ended directly in the stands. When Milan players understood what happened, at the end of the game – won 1-0 by Inter – they chased Lorenzi up to the locker room, where they were able to get hold of him and punched him repeatedly. When asked by a journalist if he would have done it again, Lorenzi answer was: “Absolutely.”

Nowadays, all these things seem impossible, tales from another time, even from another sport. Lorenzi epitomized the post-war calcio, full of passion, talent and craziness, where players were at the same time fans and idols, symbols and companions. He put together a great talent with an innate ability to provoke, creating a unique and amazing mix. He was lethal and unbearable, quick and relentless. In one word, he was Veleno.