God, I wasn't prepared for this one. Watching Edoardo Bove walk back into the Stadio Olimpico yesterday hit me right in teh feels. Six months after the young midfielder collapsed on the pitch and literally almost died, there he was - standing before the Curva Sud, tears streaming down his face.

I've covered Serie A for 7 years now, and I can count on one hand the number of times I've felt genuinely moved by something I've witnessed from the press box. This was one of them.

The day football stopped mattering

Cast your mind back to December. Fiorentina vs Inter Milan. A routine Serie A fixture until it suddenly wasn't. Bove - the 22-year-old Roma academy graduate on loan at Fiorentina - collapsed without contact. No warning. No collision. Just down.

I remember texting my editor that night: "This looks bad. Really bad." The stadium fell silent. Players formed that dreaded human shield. Medical staff rushed on.

Cardiac arrest. At 22.

What happens when your heart betrays you?

Twelve days in hospital. A defibrillator fitted. Career hanging in the balance.

For a kid born and raised in Rome, who climbed through the ranks at his boyhood club, who bleeds giallorosso... the thought that he might never play again must've been unbearable.

The banner that broke me

When Bove walked out yesterday with his Fiorentina teammates (despite not being fit to play), the Curva Sud erupted. These fans can be brutal - trust me, I've seen them tear players apart for far less than a poor performance. But they're also fiercely loyal to their own.

Their banner read: "Edoardo, don't give up, keep dreaming."

I'm not crying, you're crying.

The cruel Italian rule that might force him abroad

Here's where things get complicated. Serie A bans players with implanted defibrillators from competing. Safety first, which... fine. But it creates an impossible situation for players like Bove (and previously Eriksen, who had to leave Inter after his own cardiac incident).

Bove told Vanity Fair earlier this year: "If I decide to keep it, I won't be able to play in Italy. Here, health comes before the individual, I'm not saying that the rule is wrong."

But then came the line that shows just how much football means to this kid: "Football is too important for me, I can't allow myself to give up like this."

He's targeting a June return. Somewhere. Anywhere that will let him play.

When Roma meets Fiorentina

What made yesterday even more poignant was the context - Bove is technically still a Roma player (contracted until 2028), just on loan to Fiorentina. So when Fiorentina traveled to face Roma, it created this perfect storm of emotion.

I watched him embrace former teammates, acknowledge the crowd, and completely break down. Raw emotion.

The Italy U-21 international has been through hell. And back.

What's $4K compared to a life?

Last week I had dinner with a sports cardiologist who works with several Serie A clubs (no names, he'd kill me). He explained that the defibrillator Bove has implanted costs around €3,700. A small price for saving a life, but it comes with this massive career asterisk in Italy.

The same device that keeps him alive might force him to leave his homeland to continue his career. Like Eriksen did - first with Brentford, then Manchester United.

Life is weird sometimes.

The road ahead

Bove still has medical hurdles to clear. "I still have a few visits to do, the doctors have to cross-reference all of the data," he told Vanity Fair.

And then there's the psychological aspect. "I'll try again, without a shadow of doubt. I will also see how I am, if I'm afraid, if I don't feel calm, then everything will change."

I've seen careers end for far less traumatic reasons than having your heart stop during a match. The fact he's even contemplating a return speaks volumes about his character.

Yesterday at the Olimpico wasn't just a homecoming. It was a statement of intent.

The kid isn't done yet.