Serie A Table after Week 15: Scudetto race as tight as ever, but Fiorentina in trouble

The promise of rebirth in Florence has curdled into a desperate fight for existence as Week 15 redefines the Serie A landscape. Moise Kean, once the golden child of Italian football, now carries the crushing weight of a historic club teetering on the brink of collapse. While the Scudetto race rages above them, Kean finds himself the lone protagonist in a tragedy of wasted potential and tactical isolation.

Why The Numbers Matter

The statistics above paint a portrait of starvation. A striker, no matter how talented, cannot feast on famine. The disparity between the league benchmark for touches in the opposition box and Kean’s reality is not just a tactical failure; it is an indictment of the supply line. While the Scudetto contenders—Inter, Napoli, and his former club Juventus—average nearly double the dangerous possession, Kean is forced to forage for scraps thirty yards from goal. The "trouble" mentioned in the Week 15 summary is quantified here: Fiorentina is not creating, and Kean is suffocating in the vacuum.

The Boy Who Would Be King

Football has a cruel memory. It remembers the promise of the teenager who burst onto the scene in Turin, a physical anomaly with the touch of a ballerina and the strength of a heavyweight. Moise Kean was supposed to be the answer to Italy’s generational striker problem. He was the chosen one. Yet, after wandering through the wilderness of Everton’s dysfunction and a gilded cage in Paris, he arrived in Florence seeking something simpler than glory: a home.

The Stadio Artemio Franchi is a place that demands heroes. From Batistuta to Toni, the Curva Fiesole worships the number nine as a deity. Kean took this mantle willing to bear the cross. But as Week 15 concludes, that cross has become a tombstone. The source material indicates a league table where the top is tighter than ever—a gladiatorial combat for the Scudetto—while Fiorentina languishes in "trouble." For Kean, this is the ultimate betrayal of the script. He didn't come here to fight relegation; he came to remind the world why he belongs at the top.

"When you watch him now, you don't see a bad player. You see a lonely man. He runs into channels that don't exist, signaling for passes that never come. It is the solitude of the long-distance runner, played out in a penalty box."

The tragedy lies in the proximity. Kean looks up the table and sees the ghosts of his past. He sees Juventus, entrenched in a fierce battle for the title. He sees Inter Milan operating like a machine. He sees the level required to lift the Scudetto, a level he once possessed. Now, he looks around his own dressing room and sees fear. The "trouble" in Florence is not just a lack of points; it is a lack of belief. And belief is the fuel a striker burns to survive.

A System in Collapse

To understand Kean's current plight, one must dissect the dysfunction of the Viola midfield. A striker is the tip of the spear, but Fiorentina is currently fighting with a broken handle. In the recent fixtures leading up to this precarious Week 15 standing, Kean has dropped deeper and deeper, trying to ignite play himself. It is a noble, futile gesture. When your primary goal threat is collecting the ball in the center circle, the opposing defense has already won.

This tactical isolation breeds frustration. You can see it in his body language—the thrown arms, the skyward glances, the simmering rage. It is not the petulance of a diva; it is the despair of a mechanic trying to fix a Ferrari engine with a plastic spoon. He presses the goalkeeper alone. He chases lost causes into the corner flag. He is expending championship-level energy in a relegation-level structure.