If Gianni Clerici’s writing style were a tennis shot, it would most likely be a backhand passing shot that catches everyone off guard, landing right on that elusive boundary between the sideline and the clay — a spot Gianni himself called the “semiriga.”

Here, in that poetic, delicate limbo—halfway between in and out, between genius and madness—the Università Cattolica has stepped in with perfect timing, offering a welcoming home to the carefully arranged tangle of books, photographs, letters, and posters that make up the late Clerici’s archival collection.
But not just a home—a sounding board as well: the Historical Collections Center, responsible for managing and cataloging the materials, will have the mission of enhancing and promoting this treasure in the years to come.
And what better way to take the first step than to organize an event with those who truly knew Gianni, side by side with him?
This was the intent behind the gathering Gianni Clerici: il racconto del tennis, held in the Aula Magna in Brescia last December 15—a hopeful gesture, a sign of presence and awareness.
The evening was moderated by Pierangelo Goffi, who, as head of the library at the Brescia campus of Università Cattolica and of the Historical Collections Center, presented the initiative and introduced the speakers.

After an initial segment in which Professor Rognoni described the circumstances that led to the arrival of the Clerici archive at our university, the conversation unfolded into a free-flowing exchange of memories and stories, ultimately sketching a sincere and heartfelt portrait of the “scribe of tennis.”
It was impossible to talk about Clerici without thoughts turning to Rino Tommasi, his longtime partner in the commentary booth. Elena Pero and Ubaldo Scanagatta—both themselves memorable commentators who paired respectively with Paolo Bertolucci and Roberto Lombardi—highlighted the innovative nature of their format: before Rino and Gianni, matches were narrated by a single voice.
They also emphasized the great humanity that Clerici brought to the booth, whose anecdotes and stories earned him from his friend Rino the affectionate nickname “Dottor Divago” (Doctor Digression).
These peculiarities were echoed by Claudio Mezzadri, former professional player and commentator, who traced Clerici’s atypical style back to his immense talent as a writer. Mezzadri’s appreciation dates to 1999, when as Switzerland’s Davis Cup captain, he “nurtured” a then-underage Roger Federer on tennis’s most prestigious stage.

Snippets from the life of Clerici the journalist, a point of reference and example for all his colleagues, came instead from the words of Carlo Annovazzi, chief editor of Repubblica Milano, and Stefano Semeraro, Editor-in-Chief of Il Tennis Italiano, two publications for which Clerici published countless articles over the years: from his debut in 1948 precisely in the specialized magazine then directed by Umberto Mezzanotte, up to his latest contributions to the Roman newspaper, among which stand out the enthusiastic commentaries on the early achievements of a young red-haired player from Trentino, Jannik Sinner, who last November, 47 years after the Italian feat in Santiago, brought the tricolor back to the top step of the Davis Cup podium.

Giuseppe Cosio