Italy might be the world champions but off the field that country's football continues to plumb the depths.
Only months after the 'Calciogate' scandal shone another light on the inbuilt corruption in the peninsula's soccer culture, a tangled web of bent club directors and malleable association officials, the tragic death of a policeman at a recent Serie A game has reminded us Italy that has a serious and ongoing issue with hooliganism.
On the 2nd of February, Catania fans rioted following their side's 2-1 defeat to Sicilian rivals Palermo. A firework exploded in the face of officer Filippo Riciti, who died later that day in hospital from wounds inflicted with a blunt object moments before the missile was launched.
This outrage is only the latest in a long line of disgraceful incidents involving Italian hooligans over the past three decades.
Among Italy's roll of dishonour are the four Salernitana fans burned to death on a train in 1999, a moped in flames hurled down two tiers of the San Siro by Inter fans in 2001, Lazio ultras honouring Serbian war criminal Arkan with a huge banner in 2000, racist Verona fans displaying a large black doll in a noose on the terraces, referee Anders Frisk receiving a bleeding face from a cigarette lighter thrown from the stands of Rome's Olympic Stadium in 2004 and the Milan derby abandoned in 2005 after rossoneri goalkeeper Dida was struck by a flare.
Then last season three Middlesbrough fans were stabbed and dozens more terrorized in Rome in shocking and unprovoked attacks led by the axe-wielding head of AS Roma's ultras.
Riciti's death led to a week's suspension of football in Italy and provoked the usual howls of disgust and promises of tough action from politicians and football officials, but the overwhelming impression from overseas is that we have heard all this before.
Twelve years ago Italian football came to an almost identical standstill and precipitated another sheepish spell of navel gazing after a Milan-supporting thug murdered Genoa fan Vincenzo Spagnolo outside the Luigi Ferraris stadium before a Serie A clash, but after all the promises of getting to grips with the hooligans and learning from England, normal service resumed.
'Enough!' screamed the front page of Italy's soccer daily La Gazzetta dello Sport at the time, regarding the paramilitary-style groupings of Italy's hardcore fans. The first match after the 'ceasefire' saw the ultras gingerly conceal their banners until half time, at which point they correctly judged the police were not going to act to change the status quo, and revealed their bellicose names and slogans once again.
Now in 2007 it seems nothing has been learned. The Palermo-Catania game had already been interrupted for 40 minutes because Catania ultras had been hurling flares and fireworks and the police tear gas fired in response had begun to drift onto the field.
How is it that some fans are allowed to bring explosives into Italian stadia, where they can drink and smoke drugs openly, a full 22 years after the Heysel tragedy, when 39 mostly Italian fans lost their lives? Italy has the seventh largest economy in the world and one of the three richest football leagues, but in terms of organisation its football is definitely third world.
Ultras, the hard core fan groups, continue to hold an unacceptable grip over the clubs they have attached themselves to, gaining free and unchecked entry to stadia, complete with weapons, banners and megaphones broadcasting obscene and often racist and/or fascist epithets.
When the clubs have dared to try to crack down, they have been met with physical intimidation and backed off. Palermo announced a halt to free handouts in December and in the city famous as the home of the mafia, a club official received a severed goat's head in the post.
John Foot, in his comprehensive study of Italian football Calcio, correctly points out that ultras are more sinister than any English hooligan ever was, because of the power they wield.
"The most important have offices, bars, meetings, 'membership' and their own merchandise as well as radio stations, fanzines and newspapers and even their own coach companies" Foot wrote. "Dangerous alliances, built on a system of threats, blackmail and violence were formed between ultra groups, management and players…By the 1990s, no player, no president, no manager could survive without the support of a restricted group of capi-ultra (ultra leaders)."
While the children are given the keys to the school with disastrous consequences at the highest level, violence has become a feature of Italian football in general - the very match that ended with Riciti's death had started with a minute's silence for a minor league official who had died the previous weekend trying to break up a pitched brawl.
Once more England has been held up in Italy as the model to follow; only exceptionally obtuse Italians can now believe the home of football, with its fence-free and all-seater stadia and spectator-friendly environment is still the land of the hooligan, but too many still incorrectly believe the Taylor Report that followed the Hillsborough tragedy was a response to domestic football's violence, instead of its poor organisation.
Hillsborough ensured that never again would police in England lose control of a large crowd with fatal consequences, although their Italian counterparts have failed to employ any methods beyond swarming riot police whacking anything and everything in their path.
Policing of games in Italy is more heavy-handed than it ever was in the 1980s in England, when it was normal to be escorted to and from the stadium and incarcerated after the final whistle while the home fans dispersed.
Italy's polizia and carabinieri seem to lack the preventative ability of English police when it comes to violence and only seem to react to it, in such a hard core manner that it probably fuels the very trouble it is supposed to be combating.
Another problem that needs addressing is the management of the arenas: Italy's stadia are municipally owned and at least a decade behind England's in design. While Premier League grounds are well monitored with hundreds of stewards, closed circuit TV, clear public communication and a welcoming environment, Italy's seem unloved prison pens where fans run riot with abandon.
With clubs feeling less responsibility for running stadiums than they do in England, Italian stadium staff never intervene to curb trouble while standing off at a distance are the riot police, tooled up with helmets, body armour and rifles, encouraging an aggressive atmosphere.
The response to Calciogate was initially encouraging, with high-profile resignations and big clubs relegated and or docked points, but appeals watered down the punishments, and only Juventus ended up dropping one division in the end.
We should be optimistic that this time Italy means business in wanting to drag its football culture into the 21st century, but given that nation's history of corruption and inefficiency, it would be a minor miracle if any revolution emerges.
While Italy glows in the glory of holding the Jules Rimet trophy, its victory is surely soured by the endemic corruption and ugly fan culture of its domestic game.
Italy is far from a unique case. There is spectator violence, bribery and poor organisation across the wide world of football, while this season has witnessed hooliganism in several European countries, most notably France, where in November a policeman shot dead a marauding PSG fan in Paris and fans of Dutch club Feyenoord, who have a long history of trouble themselves, ran amok during their club's UEFA Cup clash with Nancy, ensuring the Rotterdam side was thrown out of the tournament.
How ironic that for so long England was seen as the land of slum stadia and scum fans. Even its national team, if the 100,000 odd traveling fans at last summer's World Cup were anything to go by, appears to have largely shaken off its violent tag. Italy in comparison has been dragging its heels for too long and has a lot of catching up to do.