Italian football reels after Sicily riot death

It took around three hours for Filippo Raciti's heart to stop beating after a hurled missile exploded in his face during clashes on Friday between fans of Catania and Palermo, Sicily's top football teams.

'Don't worry, it's nothing, but take me to the hospital. I don't feel well,' were the 38-year-old policeman's last words as the baroque streets of Catania filled with smoke, and helicopters swooped to disperse mobs of masked teenagers to let ambulances reach him.

As his despairing wife and two young children joined the throngs of injured at Catania's hospital, after what should have been a celebration of Sicily's return to footballing prominence, Raciti lost his fight to live, leaving Italy asking if its national game, already hit by match-rigging scandals and falling attendances, is also dying.

Six months after Italy's World Cup triumph, masked 'teppisti', or hooligans, hurling flares at police lines have replaced the ecstatic crowds that cheered the national team home from Germany. After Friday's guerrilla war on the streets of Catania, Italy's football federation called an indefinite halt to all fixtures, with an emergency summit planned for Monday. 'People have got to understand it's time for a change,' said Prime Minister Romano Prodi.

Luca Pancalli, head of Italy's football federation, summed up the views of many. 'I have stopped all activity,' he said. 'That's enough. Really. That's enough. I cannot begin to comment on this situation,' he said. 'If we lose our chance to host the 2012 European Championships, we deserve it.'

After a series of violent clashes at Serie A games, 1,500 police were drafted in for the Sicilian derby. The rivalry between the historically underachieving teams, which has reached fever pitch as both joust for Champions League places, took centre stage after half time as Palermo fans fired tear gas at the home support. Choking players fled the pitch as the game was suspended, while outside the stadium Catania fans showered police with rocks, flares and the small explosive that arched its way towards Filippo Raciti who, investigators believe, may have already been stunned by a rock when the charge went off.

The crunch game had been moved forward from Sunday to make way for the huge annual celebration for St. Agatha, Catania's patron saint: a weekend marked by fireworks, folk dancing and a religious procession.

Yesterday all fireworks were banned, leaving just the procession to weave its way through the black volcanic stone-paved streets of a city aware that the fateful explosive may have been sold locally to celebrate the Saint's day.

Many Italians saw Raciti's death as a tragedy foretold, and him as a victim of the rot within the game that was merely glossed over by the heroics of the national side in Berlin.

Italy now boasts 74,000 recognised members of 445 'Ultra' groups of hardcore fans, notably at Inter Milan, who were forced to play Champions League football behind closed doors in 2005 after fans showered players with flares and bottles, despite extra security following a 2001 incident when a burning moped was launched from raised terracing. Violence is even on the march at amateur level: in January the coach of a small team in southern Italy was beaten to death on the field by opposing fans.

Critics who accuse Italy of contracting the 'English disease' of hooliganism miss the point that Italian fans generally save their hatred for the police. 'The Ultras were not fighting against each other, they wanted us,' said policeman Alfio Ferrara, who was close to Raciti on Friday. The number of policemen injured at football games in Italy has increased by 42 per cent in the past year to 202, despite 2005 legislation to crack down on hooliganism, including more security at games and buyers' names printed on tickets.

Many clubs have not found the funds to meet new standards. At Rome's Olympic stadium, metal turnstiles prevent ticketless fans approaching the stands, but Ultras still manage to smuggle in their flares and bangers.

Speaking as events in Catania unfolded, sports minister Giovanna Melandri warned Serie A clubs to shoulder more responsibility in the war on violence, and justice minister Clemente Mastella added that the clubs were to blame for creating cosy ties with hardcore fans.

To keep terraces full, many Serie A clubs have in the past farmed out free tickets to Ultra leaders, who in turn made money reselling them. But when cash-starved chairmen at clubs such as Lazio have cut off the supply, fans have reacted violently. The end of free ticketing was also reportedly behind the mailing of a goat's head to an official at Palermo football club in December.

As ties between clubs and Ultras weaken, family fans are also deserting the stadiums. World Cup euphoria was short lived, and last summer's match-rigging scandal left a sour taste in the mouths of many supporters. With Juventus relegated to Serie B, AC Milan unable to recover from their points deduction and many stars fleeing to Spain, the action is lacking. Not even terrace tickets for under £10 can draw punters out of their living rooms where games are now beamed by pay TV at all hours.

In Catania, St. Agatha managed to shift the game with Palermo back two days, but she is no match for Sky TV, which has brought its rescheduling ways to Italy, pushing the big games to Sunday evenings. After a lifetime of 3pm kick-offs, Italians are voting with their feet and staying at home with the decoder, leaving the hardcore Ultras, flares in their rucksacks and scarves wrapped around their faces, to brave the dark stadiums without them.

As Catania's hospitals struggled with 71 injured on Friday, mostly police officers, and investigators huddled over closed-circuit imagery of Filippo Riciti's final moments, a colleague of the dead policeman said: 'Filippo no longer loved football because these bastards had destroyed all the enthusiasm he had.'