My opponent plays tennis is the prelude to the challenge that Fabrizio Canciani was forced to face.

These days tennis is the focus of media attention and everyone, sport people or not, follows it in some way, but I would like to tell you about this different tennis match.

Fabrizio Canciani is a writer and singer-songwriter, an exponent of that artistic Milan  that always gives a strong sense of belonging and the beauty of that side that retains its characteristic connotation while downplaying its cosmopolitan aspect.

Defined as ‘the cabaret artist lent to the crime novel‘ Fabrizio has staged, among others, the show Murders and songs, which is also a book.

His books published by Todaro Editore  number seven, between 2004 and 2011, and then there are books with other publishers.

To describe Fabrizio in an immediate and effective manner, I will quote the words of introduction to one of his books:
I met Canciani in an underground club, very underground, more underground than club, in short, in the suburbs; where, at a time of great television noise, they were trying their hand at intelligent cabaret. Or not.
He is a good one, even when he writes. I highly recommend reading his detective story.
Or not.
Enzo Jannacci 

Among the songs Fabrizio has written, I cannot fail to mention Nerazzuri siamo noi. 

Fabrizio also sang at the San Siro for the Scudetto celebration in 2007.

Sure he also sung for the double star this year, but not on the pitch.

Because his opponent plays tennis.

Antonius Block, a noble Scandinavian knight, on his return from the Crusades in the Holy Land, finds death waiting for him on the beach. She would like to take him away but the knight decides to challenge her at chess. An unequal challenge, death knows a thousand tricks, he is invincible. He is only trying to buy a little time, just a little time. Just the length of a film: The Seventh Seal by Igmar Bergman.
I wasn’t coming back from any crusade, I detest crusades, even crosswords bore me.
I had my life.
And I liked it. In fact, I was going through a really happy time, which is not so obvious these days.
But one day, on my way home, I too found an adversary waiting for me, to challenge me. Not on the beach, in the kitchen, at dinner.
Death? No, worse, worse. In the meantime, death plays chess, you sit there nice and quiet, you move the pawns, you think about it, you cannot hope for luck but only for ingenuity, and if you sweat it is only because of the tension.
My opponent plays tennis …

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