Pjanic reveals how Allegri bent the rules to let him take free kicks instead of Ronaldo

Miralem Pjanic remembers the night in Naples clearly. In March 2026, Juventus travelled to Napoli for a top-of-the-table Serie A clash. The score was level, and a direct free kick appeared at a distance suited to a left foot. At Juventus in those days, the right to take free kicks was all but reserved for Cristiano Ronaldo. But the man who stepped up was Pjanic. He scored, opened the scoring, and Juventus won 2-1.

Years later, at the Festival dello Sport, Pjanic explained the mechanism behind that moment. Ronaldo was lying on the pitch. Coach Massimiliano Allegri called Pjanic over and told him to let the medical staff come on and treat him. Under the laws, a player who receives treatment on the pitch must leave it before returning. Ronaldo was forced off. And Pjanic stepped up to take the free kick. “Thanks to the coach,” he said, briefly.

I watched a great many Juventus matches in that period, and what struck me was not the free kick itself, but the way a coach solved a problem that seemed impossible to solve with words.

To understand why Allegri had to do this, we need to look back at the power structure at Juventus between 2026 and 2026. Ronaldo arrived in Turin in the summer of 2026 from Real Madrid for a fee of around 100 million euros, becoming the symbolic signing of all of Serie A. His arrival changed not only the wage bill but also the decision rights on the pitch: free kicks, penalties, set pieces — everything revolved around him.

Pjanic was, at the time, a leading free-kick specialist. Before Ronaldo arrived, he was the man entrusted with the most important direct free kicks. After Ronaldo arrived, that role narrowed. This is a familiar paradox at big clubs: a signing brought in for commercial value and stature can override even the choices that are purely optimal on the sporting side.

The notable figure: during his time in Serie A, Ronaldo took 98 direct free kicks and scored only 1 goal. A conversion rate of about 1%. For a player assumed to be the number-one free-kick taker, that is an unusually low figure.

This is where the story moves beyond a single free kick. The question is not who takes free kicks better, but who holds the power to decide who takes them. At Juventus, that power belonged to a man who did not need to prove himself with data. Ninety-eight shots and one goal say one thing: when star status becomes the standard, sporting efficiency becomes a forgotten variable.

Allegri understood that. But he also understood that he could not publicly strip Ronaldo of free kicks without confronting his very status. A head-on clash in the dressing room would cost far more than a technical solution. So he chose a third way: he created a situation in which Ronaldo had to leave the pitch, not because he was pushed aside, but because the laws required it. This is managing a superstar's ego through a procedural manoeuvre, rather than through a contest for authority.

I have seen similar confrontations at many different clubs. Most end in one of two scenarios: the coach concedes entirely, or the relationship fractures and one of the two leaves. Allegri chose the third — the rarest. He did not win a confrontation, because he never created one.

What is interesting is that Pjanic recounts this story with gratitude, not resentment. That is an important detail. Had he felt unfairly treated, he would have told it as a grievance. Instead, he told it as a memory, a professional moment in which he was respected. Behind every signature are two stories: one that is told, and one that is hidden.

In the same conversation, Pjanic also spoke about Ronaldo in striking terms: his mental strength should be taught in schools. He compared Lionel Messi and Ronaldo in the familiar way: one with innate talent, the other with a will that was forged. It is an old comparison, but it endures because it touches something fans want to believe: that effort can compensate for everything.

But the figure of 98 shots and one goal tells a different story. Will took Ronaldo to the free-kick spot, but will cannot bend the trajectory of the ball. This is the point at which legend and data part ways. We can admire a man's resolve while acknowledging that resolve is not a free-kick skill.

The rest of the story is about the future. At 41, Ronaldo faces a debate that no longer revolves around free kicks, but around his role in the Portugal national team. Pjanic describes it as a conflict between coach and player over how he is used, rather than a decline in form. It is a subtle but important distinction.

What stands out is that Ronaldo has never failed for lack of desire. He has failed, if at all, because his desire outruns the physical limits that time imposes. At 41, the question is not whether he wants to, but whether his body still allows it.

Pjanic expressed a wish that Ronaldo be given a farewell worthy of what he has contributed. That is a statement that shapes opinion, not a report. It reflects a growing trend: people want a dignified ending to one of the greatest careers in history. But the public's wish is not the timetable of a decision.

I once wrote that the transfer market does not run on money, but on trust. Pjanic's story shows the same holds true in the dressing room. Ronaldo had the right to take free kicks not because he was the best free-kick taker, but because the whole team believed in his status. Once that belief is entrenched, Allegri had to find a way to shift it without breaking it.

People see a superstar stepping up to take a free kick. I see a 1% conversion rate. And the question facing modern football is whether clubs have the courage to judge set pieces by data rather than by reputation. If a player takes free kicks at a 1% conversion rate, would he still be given the next one — if his name were not Ronaldo?

Perhaps what Allegri left behind is not a trick, but a question. In a team, the best free-kick taker and the player who takes the free kicks are not always the same person. The gap between the two is where power, money and ego shape the outcome of a match.

Ronaldo will keep taking free kicks, and fans will keep believing. But between belief and data, there is always a gap that only insiders can see.