I Built Something Nobody Wanted. Here’s What Changed.

It was late May in Florence. I was sitting at my desk, and the whole city smelled like jasmine.

Torrini Fotogiornalismo

For anyone who knows this place, late May means one thing: Calcio Storico — a medieval football match where there are almost no rules and loyalty costs blood. It’s a brutal, ancient game, and it’s the only way the Florentines have ever known how to fight.

In 1530, while the Holy Roman Emperor was laying siege to the city, the Florentines decided to play a match right under his nose. Just to show him: we’re still here. We’re still ready. One historian watched it and said something I haven’t been able to shake:

“Too small to be a war. Too fierce to be a game.”

Here’s the thing: I built a calculator.

I Built Something Nobody Wanted Here’s What Changed

Not a course. Not a motivational guide. A tool that shows you the real numbers on something nobody wants to think about — the cost of long-term care. Nursing homes, in-home care, assisted living. The stuff that happens when aging gets real.

Most people don’t plan for it. They tell themselves: “It won’t happen to me. I’ll figure it out later. My kids will help.” And then they turn 75, or their parent gets sick, and suddenly they’re facing bills nobody explained to them.

My calculator does one thing: it shows you the actual numbers. Not to scare you. To help you plan. Because planning beats panic.

But here’s the problem — nobody wants to use it. I expected people to download it, see the numbers, and think: “Oh. I need to prepare for this.” Instead, what I got was silence.

I Built a Tool That Nobody Buys

I spent time constructing something real — a calculator that helps people see a problem they don’t think will happen to them. But nobody’s buying it.

I opened too many projects this spring. Way too many. I know this. I can’t seem to stop myself.

Here’s what I started asking myself: do digital products actually solve anything? Or am I just building things nobody needs?

The Real Problem

What I never learned is marketing. Being good at building something isn’t the same as being good at selling it.

I looked in the mirror. Am I on the wrong side of this?

The Game Has Rules I Don’t Know

Here’s what I didn’t expect to understand: the Florentines who play Calcio Storico today aren’t the same ones from the 1500s.

The game started with Roman legions using it to stay sharp between battles. It was called Harpastum. 27 against 27. No referee. Everything allowed — boxing, wrestling, tackling. You left the square as a winner or a loser. Nothing in between.

In the 1970s, it was played by shopkeepers and everyday people. Today, many players are specialists in combat sports. The old-timers argue about whether it was better before.

And I realized: that’s me. I’m the guy who doesn’t know the rules of the game I’m trying to play.

The Day the Graph Moved

I hadn’t written anything for a few days. When I finally checked my Medium analytics, I almost stopped. The graph was flat. Completely flat. No interactions. No comments.

(Actually, there were two comments, but I was new — I didn’t see them.)

This morning, I opened analytics again.

The graph had moved.

Not a big move. Not a wave. Just movement. One forgotten book sold (check the article about it). One graph that actually breathed.

Small? Yes.

But it was enough.

I’m Not Surrendering

And this is where the Calcio Storico metaphor hits me the hardest.

You exit that square as a winner or a loser. There’s no middle ground. I’m not walking away before the graph gets a real chance to move.

I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep sharing this process — the failures, the doubts, the small victories. I’ll keep building. And yes, I’ll try to sell you something useful if you need it.

Because this week I learned something that matters: the flat graph doesn’t define failure.

Surrendering does.

This is my Calcio Storico. And I’m not leaving the square.