You want drama? Forget your glitzy Milan derbies or Juventus strutting around with all their old money swagger. Saturday in Pisa, we’re getting a relegation six-pointer that oozes desperation, grit, and—let’s be honest—just the right amount of comedy. Pisa versus Verona is shaping up to be the kind of game you sneak away from brunch to watch, not because of any tactical masterclass, but because this is true Italian theater: high stakes, low margins, and two teams fighting for Premier League souls on a Serie A shoestring budget.

Let’s paint the picture: Pisa, dead last, winless, sitting there with just two points after six matches. If Serie A had a laugh track, it’d play every time Pisa tried to score; they’ve managed just a whimpering 0.2 goals per game over their last ten. Their last outing? Thrashed 4-0 by Bologna—like watching a sitcom where the protagonist keeps stepping on the same rake over and over again. You almost want to cue the Curb Your Enthusiasm theme as their opposition celebrates.

Verona, meanwhile, are only marginally less tragic: 18th, three points, no wins either. Their form is basically the soccer equivalent of treading water with bricks in your boots: three draws, three losses, and goals harder to come by than a good sequel to "True Detective." Gift Orban is at least giving them, well, a gift, nicking a goal against Juventus, but otherwise Verona’s attack has been an episode of "Survivor" where nobody wants to find the challenge idol.

But this is precisely why this match is fascinating. It’s like two down-on-their-luck characters in a Coen Brothers film, each convinced the universe owes them a break, squaring off in a muddy parking lot. Both clubs know the numbers: a loss here isn’t just about points, it’s the creeping doom of relegation looming ever closer. Remember that feeling when Walter White realized he wasn’t in control? That’s the air at Arena Garibaldi right now.

For Pisa, the names to watch are M’Bala Nzola and Lorran, who at least proved the goal posts aren’t just for decoration by scoring against Napoli. Nzola’s got that “I could snap at any moment and go full John Wick on Serie A defenses” energy, but lately he’s been more Wick’s dog than the assassin himself. The rest of the Pisa attack looks allergic to the penalty area—they passed up more shooting opportunities than George Costanza passed up jobs in "Seinfeld."

Tactically, Pisa tend to play with “moderate control,” which is like calling the Titanic’s maiden voyage “somewhat bumpy.” They’ll try to keep the ball, but recently their control has led to the same result as Ross and Rachel’s romantic “breaks”—lots of arguments, not much to show for it. Their defense, meanwhile, has sprung more leaks than a late-night group chat.

For Verona, their best hope is Gift Orban—and hey, when a guy’s named “Gift” playing for a team this unlucky, you start to believe in narrative symmetry. Orban’s the guy who might do something special and turn this into his own Michael Scott “Conference Room” moment: awkward, riveting, and, against all odds, successful. The midfield is probably going to try and squeeze Pisa high and test just how much their back line can handle before the cracks widen into crevasses.

Now, neither of these teams has shown the tactical sophistication of a chess grandmaster; we’re talking more “Hungry Hungry Hippos” than “Queen’s Gambit.” Verona, if they smell blood, will press and look to dominate possession, making Pisa chase the game and possibly cough up a mistake. Pisa, knowing their own inability to string together three passes in the final third, will likely set up conservatively and hope for a moment of chaos. Think "Battle of Winterfell," except instead of dragons, it’s just errant crosses and nervous clearances.

And what’s at stake? It's more than just three points—whoever loses is staring down the barrel of a Serie B return before Halloween decorations come down. For the winner, it’s a shot at redemption, a reason to believe the storyline doesn’t end with them written out in the season finale. For fans, it’s that rare match where every misplaced pass, sliding tackle, and half-chance feels existentially weighty.

Prediction? Football history says a nil-nil draw here would be the dark comedy ending, but Verona look slightly more likely to break their duck—think of them as the “gritty reboot” protagonist who’s been down on their luck, but finally gets their montage. If Orban or Kastanos finds a moment in transition, Verona could edge it. But mark my words: this will not be pretty. It will be raw, anxious, and perfectly Serie A—a Must-Not-Miss for anyone who likes their football with a side of schadenfreude.

Settle in, because Saturday’s Pisa-Verona is the soccer equivalent of the “bottle episode.” All the drama's inside, and nobody’s getting out unscathed.