Gary Lineker is squeezed into the back of a Fiat Punto whizzing through Italian streets. All sharp, frantic, narrow turns, something about the scene feels familiar, echoes of the opening to Asif Kapadia’s film on Diego Maradona, and from behind the driver going up and down through the gears there’s a grin. “I’ve never felt so close to Diego,” the former England striker says, voice just audible over the rattle of cobbles and the sound of sirens. “If only it was Naples.”
Instead, this is Rome. Lineker has come to receive a Sport and Human Rights award from Amnesty International. Here, not sticking to sport is cause for commendation, not criticism, still less punishment. “A lot of people like footballers having a voice, using their platform; when they don’t, it’s often because they disagree with the opinion,” he says, as the city speeds by. “It’s interesting to be in Italy for this, with the government they have now.” There’s a pause, a laugh. “I doubt they know about it. It’s a nice gesture. I’m sure the recent furore brought me here.”
