The blue shirts are marching. Not just walking, not just winning—marching. Italy's Under-21s have turned their qualification group into a procession, and when Armenia arrive at the Stadio Giovanni Zini on Tuesday night, they'll be the latest visiting team to discover that this Italian generation isn't interested in romance or charity. They're interested in dominance.
Seven wins, three draws, zero defeats. Twenty-four points from ten matches. The numbers tell a story, but they don't capture the hunger coursing through this young Azzurri squad. Just four days ago, they dismantled Sweden 4-0 in a performance that had scouts from across Europe scribbling frantically in their notebooks. Niccolò Pisilli scored twice, Francesco Camarda announced himself with authority, and Tommaso Berti capped it off in the 90th minute like an artist signing a masterpiece. This wasn't just a victory—it was a statement written in capitals.
But here's what makes this particular evening fascinating: Armenia, despite sitting in the group's lower reaches, despite arriving in Reggio Emilia on a three-match losing streak, represent something more dangerous than their form suggests. They're wounded, they're desperate, and desperate teams playing with nothing to lose can be the most awkward opponents of all. Their 1-2 defeat to North Macedonia last week showed they can score—albeit briefly—and in football, hope is a stubborn thing to extinguish completely.
The tactical chess match writes itself. Italy will dominate possession; that's not prediction, it's certainty. They've averaged two goals per game across their last three outings, and their attacking fluidity under the current coaching setup has been mesmerizing to watch. The interplay between midfield and attack, the way they rotate positions, the intelligent movement off the ball—this is Italian football evolution, shedding the defensive stereotype and embracing a more progressive, possession-based identity that still maintains that trademark tactical discipline.
Armenia, conversely, will sit deep. They have no choice. Conceding three to Sweden, four to Poland, and struggling to create chances—just one goal across their last three matches—means survival becomes the objective. They'll pack bodies behind the ball, make Italy work for every inch of space, and pray for a set-piece opportunity or a counter-attacking moment of magic. It's pragmatic, it's necessary, and against lesser opposition, it might even work.
But Italy aren't lesser opposition. Pisilli has emerged as the midfield conductor this team desperately needed, someone who can dictate tempo, arrive late in the box, and score goals that change matches. His brace against Sweden wasn't fluky—it was clinical, composed, the work of a player who understands space and timing. Then there's Camarda, still a teenager but playing with a striker's instinct that can't be taught. His goal last week was pure poacher's finish, and he'll be licking his lips at the prospect of facing an Armenian defense that's shipped seven goals in their last three outings.
The really compelling subplot? Italy's ruthlessness. They haven't just been winning; they've been winning emphatically when the opportunity presents itself. That 4-0 demolition of Sweden could easily be replicated against Armenia, who've shown vulnerability to sustained pressure. The question isn't whether Italy will create chances—they will, abundantly—but whether Armenia can withstand the inevitable onslaught for ninety minutes.
What's genuinely at stake here transcends the three points. Italy are building something. This isn't just about qualifying for the U21 Championship; it's about establishing an identity, creating momentum, developing a winning mentality that will serve these players when they graduate to the senior squad. Every comfortable victory, every confident performance, every young player who steps up in moments of pressure—it all feeds into the bigger picture of Italian football's renaissance.
Armenia, meanwhile, are fighting for dignity. Three consecutive defeats hurt, regardless of context. Their senior side faces Ireland later this week in World Cup qualifying, and a respectable showing from their U21s could provide some psychological lift for the entire footballing federation. Pride matters, especially when you're representing a nation still carving its identity in European football.
Tuesday night in Reggio Emilia won't be remembered as the upset of the decade. The form, the quality gap, the home advantage—everything points toward another Italian statement. But football's beauty lies in those ninety minutes where anything, theoretically, can happen. Armenia need a miracle. Italy just need to be themselves. And when these blue shirts are playing with this kind of confidence, this kind of purpose, this kind of collective understanding, being themselves might just be terrifying enough.