Before reading: Venezia FC was promoted to Serie A in 2021 for the first time in 19 years but was forced to cope with relegation and is currently back competing in Serie B.

Travel writer Thomas Watkins once wrote, “There is no country so much frequented yet so little known by foreigners as Venice [Italy].” That was back in 1788, but hundreds of years later it’s still true.

The reality is that 30 million people tour the Venetian Lagoon each year, eager to capture the perfect selfie in St. Mark’s Square. They pay hundreds of dollars for gondola rides, put out for overpriced cocktails in the famed piazzas, and live their fantasy of calling this lustful place home, even if only for an afternoon.

It’s not easy to look beyond the facades of the San Marco district and why would anyone need to? There is natural beauty and history at every turn. Despite this, I couldn’t help but feel there was more to Venice than meets the eye.

Cue the Venezia Football Club. A professional soccer team formed in 1907 that competes in Italy’s second division (Serie B) and, despite the high volume of foot traffic within the city’s limits, is still undoubtedly hidden within the easternmost confines of the city. It has a history. It has a culture. It has passion. Yet rarely do foreigners ever experience it.

The club plays its home matches at the Stadio Pierluigi Penzo, a cozy 11,150-seat stadium that’s tucked away deep within the Sant’Elena district. A quick search of the web will explain how it’s the second oldest continually used venue in all of Italy. That’s quite an impressive feat when you consider the deep history of Italian football but somehow remains largely invisible to a majority of the city’s visitors.

It’s certainly not the easiest place to find. There are no banners, no yellow signs indicating a point of interest like those seen plastered around the tourist trail, and no walking tour in sight. The stadium is simply there, hidden in plain sight for better or for worse and serving as a discrete monument of stability within a city that’s constantly changing.

During my first visit, I didn’t learn of the club’s existence until the day after they had played at home. I wasn’t about to make that same mistake the next time I found myself aimlessly wandering the canals of Venice and sure enough, the stars aligned a year later. 

On the day of the match, indescribable energy filled the air. Fans from Mestre, Venice’s mainland neighbor, packed the water taxi like a can of sardines, disembarking at the Sant’Elena pier before making their way to the stadium. It wasn’t a long walk from the docks by any means, but I’ll always remember the roar of the crowd directing the newcomers, guiding us through the streets, and growing louder with each step.

Once inside, I couldn’t help but feel as though I was witnessing a religious experience of sorts. Sure, Venice is full of cathedrals, but the Stadio Pierluigi Penzo is one that never receives attention. It’s a different kind of church, of course. A holy place where Venetians gather, rain or shine, to pay tribute to what many refer to as the most beautiful game in the world.

I took my seat in the Curva Sud section, home to the club’s diehard supporters. Organized chaos is the only way to describe it as a couple of delirious individuals led continuous chants throughout the entire 90 minutes, never once taking their eyes off the crowd. This was the heartbeat of everything, setting the tone for fans and players alike.

On the northern end of the stadium stood the away supporters, valiantly trying to make their presence felt with flags and cheers of their own, all the while seemingly un-phased by the uphill battle they faced. It was to no avail on this particular afternoon.

The atmosphere was a far cry from the luxury and sophistication that exude the shops along the Grand Canal. There was nothing “high end” about it, nor should there have been. Instead, the beauty of this moment came from within the people, their raw emotion filling the stadium like a pressure cooker that could only be released when the ball struck the back of the net in favor of the home side.

Anyone who knows me is well aware that I consider myself to be completely infatuated with the sport of soccer. 

It’s only natural that I would come away loving the experience, but trust me when I say that this was different. On a gray, dreary, and otherwise lifeless February afternoon, the Sant’Elena district was alive and well thanks to an overlooked staple of Venetian life: The Venezia Football Club.

Wander amongst the canals of Venice and it’s easy to feel the rich history oozing from the walls of the city but step inside the Stadio Pierluigi Penzo on match day and you suddenly become part of it, living amongst the pages as they’re written. 

This was the first time that I felt as though I had been gifted a small glimpse into the real life of Venice and for that, I will forever be a fan of Venezia F.C. Grazie, thank you, Winged Lions!

Thanks for reading and as always, stay safe & happy travels!

Enjoy this post? Make sure to pin it for later!