The captaincy of a club like Roma can be a poisoned chalice. The Giallorossi are one of Italy’s biggest clubs, with the fourth-most decorated history on the peninsula, and some of the game’s greatest icons have worn the armband. That very history, however, creates an impossible standard. Few can live up to the ghosts of those who came before.
Enter a new rule that we’ve already discussed on Chiesa di Totti: Gian Piero Gasperini’s decision to hand the captain’s armband to the player with the most appearances
for the club. On the surface, this seems like a meritocratic decision: get on the pitch, get the armband. It’s also been the de facto rule for Roma’s captaincy for most of the 21st century: who on earth could have had more appearances for i Lupi than Francesco Totti or Daniele De Rossi?
Yet the real intent behind Gasperini’s appearance-based captaincy rule is obvious: it’s to strip homegrown talent Lorenzo Pellegrini of his captaincy in as quiet a way as possible. Pellegrini’s demotion from the permanent captaincy, a role he held for four years, is not an isolated incident but the final, decisive piece of a larger puzzle. When this change is viewed in conjunction with other key factors, Romanisti didn’t need Frederic Massara’s recent comments about Pellegrini’s future to confirm that Lolo is not long for this club.
Enter Bryan Cristante. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say: Remain Bryan Cristante. Roma’s Italo-Canadian ironman midfielder has racked up 320 appearances for the Giallorossi as of this international break, and given the fact that true appearance king Stephan El Shaarawy is no longer a regular starter, Cristante has become the natural inheritor of the captain’s armband under Gasperini. Prior to the international break, this transition already felt inevitable, but now Corriere Dello Sport suggests that the deed is done: Cristante is Roma’s new captain on a permanent basis.
We’ll certainly have much more to say about the winding down of Lorenzo Pellegrini’s reign in Rome, but to me, the most fascinating part of this transfer of power is how it exemplifies the odd relationship between Bryan Cristante, his managers, and Romanisti worldwide. The appearance count and the words of all of his managers since he came to Rome from Atalanta don’t lie: every Roma manager has viewed Cristante is an indispensable, first-choice midfielder. Yet for many Romanisti, he is an emblem of the club’s perceived continued mediocrity.
Even his detractors have to acknowledge that Cristante isn’t getting into the starting eleven for absolutely no reason, or because he’s secretly blackmailing every manager Roma hires. The tactical versatility Cristante provides is the true reason he’s stuck around so long, both in Rome and in the starting lineup. While he originally played in an attacking midfielder role for Gasperini’s Atalanta before moving to Roma, since joining the Giallorossi Cristante has been able to play as a deep-lying midfielder, a box-to-box mezzala, a defensive midfielder, and even as a central defender in a back three. Those role switches rely on the fact that Cristante’s biggest value-add is his positional sense and ability to play the ball out of defense—even if he’s not the flashiest player, that’s the something clearly has kept him around. So far under Gasperini’s second tenure with Cristante, Roma has been using Cristante in the deep-lying pivot role, providing the defensive stability that allows Manu Koné, Matías Soulé, Wesley, and Paulo Dybala the freedom to push forward and attack.
Managers value Cristante for his consistency, physical durability, and unwavering tactical discipline. He’s nearly always available, and he can usually be counted on if you need a six or seven out of ten performance from your midfielder. He does the dirty work of a modern midfielder: he wins back possession, looks to push the ball forward, and lets flashier players shine. I’d be lying, though, if I didn’t acknowledge that many Romanisti (including myself) want more from a long-term starter (and now captain) at the club than availability and a minimal number of horror show outings. Romanisti rightly prize flair, technical brilliance, grinta, and creative output—it’s why midfielders like Daniele De Rossi, Radja Nainggolan, or Damiano Tommasi are recalled fondly while Cristante, well, maybe not so much.
There are two more reasons why Romanisti don’t rate Cristante, and probably won’t rate him even when he’s officially Roma’s captain. First, Cristante is not just a regular starter for Roma: he has consistently played for the Italian National Team since the late 2010s, and reports suggest that Gennaro Gattuso intends on using Cristante in the lead up to next summer’s World Cup as well. The same people who dream of more from a starting midfielder than Cristante’s “consistently available, good but not great” performances rightfully grumble about how far the Azzurri themselves have fallen recently. Since their Euro 2020 victory, the Italian team has had a poor record and is working to rebuild after their shocking failure to qualify for the 2022 World Cup. For fans, Cristante’s consistent presence in the national team’s squad has become shorthand for Italy’s post-Euro 2020 stagnation—and in some Romanisti’s eyes, the stagnation of their club outside of the Europa Conference League win.
Second, I’d argue that Cristante’s captaincy signals the true end of an era defined by charismatic hometown leaders. Bryan Cristante is not an obvious heir to the romantic throne of a Totti or a De Rossi, or even Alessandro Florenzi, the kid who would have played goalkeeper for Roma if it meant he could represent his boyhood club. Instead, Cristante’s captaincy is a reward for his unwavering reliability, something that Roma’s managers have valued above all else. But for a fanbase accustomed to the symbolic leadership of homegrown legends, and a fanbase practically starved for another Roman superstar to follow in Totti and De Rossi’s footsteps, Cristante’s captaincy represents a shift away from that familiar, romantic past and towards a potentially less glamorous, more corporate, and ultimately less-Roman future.
His captaincy may be short; for all we know, the next Roman legend is just about to graduate from the academy, and he’ll grab the captain’s armband by the age of 22 like Francesco Totti did. Until then, Cristante is the face of a transition era: an era where reliability might be rewarded over romance, where durability might outweigh flair, and where captaincy decisions reflect pragmatism over emotion.
