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Let Them Eat Cake


At Milan, in good times and bad, there is one thing you can count on: cake. For every occasion, there is always cake. Not unlike Marie Antoinette, Galliani seems to think he is above the judgment of the fans. He often directly insults us and publicly chastises us. Never taking responsibility for his actions, never seeming to understand the consequences of selling a popular player, for example, he is as out of touch with the fans as Marie Antoinette was with her subjects. And it cost her her head. But that’s okay, because Galliani seems to think that by offering up cake, he can sugar coat everything. “Let them eat cake.”

"We couldn't even be bothered to call you before we announced you were leaving, but here's a cake."

What Galliani doesn’t understand is that some of us know that the cake is a lie. His infamous “Kaká’s Orphans” may come mindlessly back to the San Siro and not even care that he openly mocks them in every press conference, even having the audacity to act snide and pretentious for pulling off such an amazing feat as bringing Kaká back. Many fans have simply forgiven him just because Kaká is such a sight for sore eyes. In fact, Kaká compilation videos have been circulating faster than an STD in U.S. Congress. You see, the cake is actually just the icing. He has always known that to be forgiven for selling Kaká, he was going to have to bring him back. So he did.

But I did not forget who sold him in the first place. I will not forgive the gross mismanagement that led him to sell the player he continues to describe as the most beloved in Milan hearts. I have not forgotten that it was because Kaká was sold in his prime that he became so legendary to the hearts of Milanisti. Like James Dean or Jim Morrison or Kurt Cobain, cut down in their prime, only it was he who pulled the trigger on the Rossoneri love affair with Kaká. It was his irresponsible spending and budgeting that created the infamy that he is now exploiting. But at least there is always cake.

"You won the Scudetto? Oh, here's a cake."

After raping our squad last year and filling in the gaps with such stellar athletes as Acerbi and Traoré, it wasn’t until he sweetened the deal with Balotelli in January that the Ibra-Silva orphans started to return to the stadium. Unlike the beheadings that Marie Antoinette prescribed, his horrible decisions and those of the Board are unlikely to end in his departure from the club, let alone his beheading. And in fact, since Milan fans are simply starved for good football and not for actual food, he still has many mindless supporters who justify what he has done. But the bill of goods we were sold last year after the pillaging of our best players has now been replaced with his old punishing ways. Instead of building a young squad and growing champions and not offering long-term contracts to older players, we signed four players 29 years old or older this summer (Silvestre turns 29 in 3 weeks,) with Kaká being the only quality one. (And don’t forget the 31 year-old Zaccardo we took on in January on a 3.5 year contract, either.) That cake is a lie.

So he is back to his old ways. If fans had a guillotine, this could have been over already. But now that he’s offered them Kaká, and Kaká has partaken of the cake, for some reason they believe his lies and all is forgiven. For me this has nothing to do with performance anymore. While a trophy or two or even a treble would have most fans forgive him, I simply cannot. I have never been one to let the wool be pulled over my eyes. Long term, signing these five geriatric reinforcements is going to hurt us more than it could possibly help us. Matri’s four year contract and ginormous transfer fee is particularly disturbing. Despite the squad looking better in the short term, in the long term, financially this sets us back again to the days of old players we can’t get rid of. But at least they were all quality.

"Welcome back. I hope this cake makes up for selling you and ruining your career."

All of this is insulting enough as a fan. But then Galliani has to open his mouth and insult us even more. It is disgusting. I can understand why people are thrilled to see Kaká and spend every waking hour watching compilation videos or highlights from past matches. Because the truth underneath it all is so much more painful, and at least, like the cake, it is sweet to have a legend back on the pitch, back in the dressing room, and back in the red and black. But it is just icing on a cake. A cake that is a lie. A cake that can’t last. A cake that will be taken from us again just as we are getting to the sweetest part. And then thrown in our faces as we are insulted again, on the pitch and off the pitch. Galiani says “Let them eat cake?” I say the cake is a lie.


This post inspired by the music of GLaDOS and Johnathon Coulton