From Misprofiled to Maradona Icon: The Poetic Rise of Scott McTominay in Naples

In the serpentine corridors of football’s what-ifs, the fate of Scott McTominay serves as a compelling case study in timing, misjudgment, and the transformative power of belief. Had Atalanta not intercepted Napoli’s pursuit of Marco Brescianini last August, the Partenopei might never have made their audacious late move for McTominay — a transaction that now reads like a masterstroke of providence.

The early tremors of discontent under Antonio Conte were not without cause. Napoli’s season had barely begun when they suffered a dispiriting defeat to Verona, prompting Conte — ever combustible, always exacting — to launch a characteristically withering critique of his club’s faltering transfer strategy. But behind the scenes, newly installed sporting director Giovanni Manna was orchestrating a quiet coup.

On the eve of the summer transfer window’s closure, Manna secured the signatures of two Scottish midfielders. Billy Gilmour arrived from Brighton for €14 million and has since proven a deft addition, but it is McTominay — prised from Manchester United for €30 million — who has emerged as the soul of Conte’s Napoli.

From the moment his feet touched Neapolitan soil, McTominay's narrative assumed the tone of myth. Greeted by a throng of worshipful fans at the airport, the Scottish international stepped into a world he had not anticipated, one his mother — overwhelmed and tearful — could scarcely comprehend. "We couldn't believe our eyes," he later reflected. Naples had not just accepted McTominay; it had anointed him.

His debut at the Stadio Diego Armando Maradona was operatic in its timing — a first touch, a first goal, a thunderclap of intent in a Coppa Italia match against Palermo. This wasn’t merely a player adapting to new surroundings; this was a man reborn in a city where the line between faith and football is almost imperceptible.

The rapport between player and manager proved equally fortuitous. Conte, long a connoisseur of muscular midfield dynamos, saw beyond the conventional perception of McTominay. At Manchester United, he had been cast as a holding midfielder or even a makeshift centre-back — a product of utilitarian typecasting based on physicality rather than intuition. Conte, however, discerned a latent goal-scorer, a midfielder with the instincts of a forward and the lungs of a marathoner.

“Scott has goals in his blood,” Conte declared, reconfiguring Napoli’s midfield to allow McTominay the liberty to surge forward. The results were emphatic. For the first time in his career, McTominay hit double figures in a league campaign, notching 12 goals — five of which arrived during a critical three-match winning streak in April. This flurry earned him the Serie A Player of the Month award — a historic first for a Scot.

What McTominay offers transcends numbers. He is, in every sense, Napoli’s bottle-opener: the player who breaks games open, often with the first, most psychologically decisive goal. In the vacuum left by the January sale of Khvicha Kvaratskhelia, it was McTominay who shouldered the burden, even assuming duties on the left flank when required. Versatility became virtue; necessity, his canvas.

Among Neapolitans, nicknames are terms of endearment and reverence. To some, McTominay is ‘MacGyver,’ the man of infinite solutions; to others, simply ‘McFratm’ — a fusion of Scottish roots and Neapolitan brotherhood, gifted to him by teammate Pasquale Mazzocchi. The name has since found permanence on a mural in the city centre, replacing an image of the Madonna with the likeness of Napoli’s new spiritual icon.

The mural is more than a curiosity; it is a metaphor. McTominay, once an underutilized utility player in Manchester, has found in Naples not just adulation but apotheosis. Mourinho, who once labeled him a “special character,” seems, in hindsight, almost prescient. The candlestick holder he received as a parting gift from United has been replaced by a Scudetto — a truer measure of a man who refused to be defined by others’ limited imaginations.

In a season of upheaval, McTominay has emerged not just as a player of substance, but as a symbol of transformation — of what can happen when conviction meets context, and talent is finally given its rightful place.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar

Red and Black and Broken: The Collapse of AC Milan

As the curtain falls on the 2024/25 Serie A campaign, the contrast between Milan’s two great footballing institutions could scarcely be starker. Internazionale stride into their final domestic fixture against Como with the Scudetto still within their grasp and a Champions League final against Paris Saint-Germain on the horizon—a season of ambition approaching its apex. Meanwhile, across the city, AC Milan finds itself plunged into a crisis as deep as any in its storied history.

Sunday's 3-1 defeat to Roma served not only as a humbling blow but as a grim punctuation mark to a season of spiraling decline. That result sealed the Rossoneri’s fate—no European football in the 2025/26 season. For a club synonymous with continental glory, the absence from any UEFA competition is more than a disappointment; it's an indictment.

The loss also ended a decade-long league hex Roma had endured against Milan—10 matches unbeaten for the Rossoneri (6 wins, 4 draws). Leandro Paredes’ stunning direct free-kick, his first since May 2023, was emblematic of a Milan side repeatedly undone by moments of individual brilliance from the opposition. All six of the Argentine's recent Serie A goals have come from dead-ball situations—set-piece precision, Milan’s defensive undoing.

This latest disappointment came hard on the heels of a Coppa Italia final defeat to Bologna—whose 1-0 win delivered their first major silverware in over half a century. For Milan, it was another blow in a season pockmarked by underachievement and missed opportunity, likely bringing a premature end to Sergio Conceição’s ill-fated tenure.

The Poisoned Chalice of Milan’s Hot Seat

The managerial role at AC Milan, once one of the most coveted in world football, has become a precarious proposition. A poisoned chalice, if ever there was one. Just three Serie A titles this century—2004, 2011, and 2022—belie the club's glorious past and highlight its steady decline.

With one match remaining, Milan trail Inter by a staggering 18 points and likely champions Napoli by 19. These are not the numbers of a proud giant experiencing a temporary lapse—they speak of systemic rot.

The descent began with instability at the top. In 2017, Silvio Berlusconi—Milan’s patriarch for over three decades—sold the club to Chinese businessman Li Yonghong. "Milan has now embarked on this path towards China," Berlusconi declared, perhaps unaware that this path would soon veer off a cliff. Li defaulted on a loan within a year, prompting US hedge fund Elliott Advisors to seize control. While Elliott injected capital and a sense of direction, their stewardship was always a bridge to another owner, RedBird Capital Partners, who acquired the club in 2022 for €1.2 billion.

Transfers Without Vision

The financial turbulence has left an enduring mark, particularly in the transfer market. Unable to consistently compete for elite talent, Milan have instead relied on ageing stars and hopeful punts. The short-lived and ultimately fruitless signings of Alvaro Morata—six goals in 25 matches before a loan exit to Galatasaray—and Kyle Walker, who returns to Manchester City after a disastrous spell, epitomize the reactive and ill-considered recruitment strategy.

The removal of Paolo Maldini as technical director—despite his status as a club icon, may have placated some factions of the fanbase, notably the Curva Sud ultras. But the optics of dismissing a symbol of Milanese identity, particularly at a time of cultural drift, only reinforced the perception of a club unmoored from its legacy.

Zlatan's Influence and a Leadership Vacuum

The presence of Zlatan Ibrahimović in a senior advisory role was initially greeted with enthusiasm. His aura, charisma, and affinity for Milan were expected to inject the kind of mentality the squad so desperately lacked. Yet his bullish proclamation—"I am the boss and I am in charge, all the others work for me"—has aged poorly. Fonseca, his chosen savior, lasted barely six months. Conceição, his successor, proved equally ineffective.

At the time of Fonseca’s sacking, Milan sat eighth, eight points adrift of a Champions League berth. Now, they sit ninth—seven points from the same goal, with a single game left to play. The stagnation is palpable.

Stars Dimmed and Systems Broken

On the pitch, Milan have too often resembled a team devoid of structure, cohesion, or fight. Joao Felix, a marquee name brought in to inspire, has managed just one goal across 16 appearances. The warning signs were clear from his stints at Barcelona and Chelsea—raw talent wasted in a tactical void. Milan’s willingness to gamble on such a player, rather than invest in industrious, system-driven profiles, reflects deeper dysfunction.

Even bright spots are tinged with frustration. Rafa Leão’s tally of 11 goals and 10 assists reads well on paper, but his performances in critical moments have been subdued. Santiago Giménez, a standout at Feyenoord, has found the leap to Serie A challenging. And Theo Hernandez, once a marauding threat down the left, now oscillates between brilliance and calamity.

What Lies Ahead?

Milan’s path back to prominence will be long and uncertain. Restoring the club’s stature—domestically and in Europe—requires more than funds. It requires identity, coherence, vision. It needs leaders who understand Milan's DNA, both on the pitch and in the boardroom.

Rome wasn't built in a day—and neither will be the Milan renaissance. But if the club continues to drift, relying on reputation rather than reason, it risks becoming a monument to past glories, rather than a participant in future triumphs.

What happens next remains a mystery. But it is no longer enough to invoke history. AC Milan must now fight for relevance.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar