"Freedom!"
The whole team shouts in unison, huddled together in an embrace and spurred on by their captain. It soars over the prison walls, louder than the clanging of bars and the rattling of locks.
New Zealand's All Blacks have their traditional haka, the Scots have their bagpipes, and the French sing "Allons enfants". But what can a group of prisoners celebrate before a rugby match? Freedom.
And it is with this deafening shout that the players of Drola, the team from Turin's Lorusso e Cotugno prison, welcome their opponents onto the prison pitch.
Drola is a Piedmontese word meaning "something strange, bizarre, unpredictable".
It was autumn 2010 when Walter Rista, who won five caps and scored three tries as a left winger for Italy in the 1970s, embarked on this strange, bizarre and unpredictable adventure with the inmates of his hometown prison.
What prompted him to do it?
"I was in Argentina with a group of former Italian internationals. The bus taking us to our final match was involved in a minor accident with another bus. Just a little bump.
"On our bus, everyone was in high spirits: laughter, music, a group of old friends enjoying a trip together. The other bus, though, was eerily silent.
"Curious, I went over to take a look. Inside, sitting in chains, were 50 boys. Young prisoners being transferred from one prison to another. There was a sadness in their eyes that I will never forget."
Bringing smiles back to prison
Back in Italy, Rista went to the prison and put a proposal to its then director, Pietro Buffa.
"What if we got the inmates playing rugby, perhaps starting with those convicted of less serious offences?"
Buffa was not entirely convinced. They had tried football before, he explained, but the experiment had come to nothing.
"Rugby teaches respect: for the rules, for your opponents and for yourself," Rista argued.
All right, let's give it a try. Inmates who applied to join underwent a physical and psychological assessment. Those who passed began training in the gym and on the prison pitch.
Two local clubs, CUS Torino and Rugby Torino, enthusiastically backed the initiative, supplying shirts, shorts and boots.
Scrums, tackles, powerful charges. "They immediately understood the spirit of the game. And finally, I saw smiles again."
As a coach, Rista has never taken a harsh or punitive approach.
"They already know all about authority and violence. They're serving their sentences. The aim is sport, life itself. No rushing, just one step at a time.
"Before every match, I always tell them: you can look after yourselves, or you can play with others and share something."
A second chance beyond the prison walls
Sixteen years have passed since that first conversation with the prison director.
"More than 300 players have worn the Drola shirt," Rista says.
The Italian Rugby Federation embraced the initiative from the outset, granting all non-EU inmates Italian-trained player status and registering the Piedmontese team in the regional Serie C championship.
Twice, Drola have come close to winning promotion to the division above.
Ask their opponents: playing inside a prison is an experience that leaves a profound mark.
There are collisions and tackles on both sides, but when someone goes down, an opponent helps him back to his feet.
In the end, what matters are the embraces, the handshakes and, sometimes, the tears.
"Thank you," say the home players. "Thank you," their visitors reply.
Then comes rugby's traditional third half: a post-match gathering over a plate of pasta in the prison canteen. Farewells are exchanged, along with promises to meet again.
After prisoners have served their sentences, the reoffending rate is normally 75 per cent. Among those who play rugby, it falls to 30 per cent.
Many continue playing after their release or have become coaches at clubs in the places where they live.
"One of our players signed for a Serie A team, another for a Spanish club, and two went to France. One teaches rugby to autistic children at an institution in Turin, with a patience and love that are deeply moving."
Just a few days ago, a former inmate of Albanian origin, who had served his sentence in full, was called up to his country's national team for a tournament in the Czech Republic.
From Turin to prisons across Italy
There are no away fixtures. Every match is played on the patchy grass pitch at Lorusso e Cotugno prison.
Rista laughs.
"The goalposts are secured with padlocks. You never know, someone might use them to climb over the prison wall."
Rista was appointed a Commander of the Order of Merit of the Italian Republic by President Sergio Mattarella, in recognition of "the professionalism and generosity shown in promoting opportunities for the social reintegration of prisoners".
His example has been followed in numerous other Italian cities and prisons, with the support of the Italian Rugby Federation, which launched the Rugby Oltre le Sbarre (Rugby Beyond Bars) project.
Rugby balls are now being passed around in prisons in Milan, Brescia, Livorno, Cremona and Monza, as well as Padua, Eboli and Caltanissetta.
In Livorno, inmates play touch rugby because the pitch is not approved for full-contact matches.
A team called Giallo Dozza has been formed in Bologna, while Frosinone has its Bisonti.
At Pesaro's Villa Fastiggi prison, the first training sessions have begun, alongside a refereeing course.
Livorno's Pecore Nere (Black Sheep) have made their debut in an amateur veterans' tournament, while players from Italy's men's and women's national teams have trained alongside Rugby 27, the team at Ferrara prison.
Today, rugby programmes involve 17 prisons and two family residential homes across Italy.
"Freedom!" the players shout at the start of every match.
This article was reviewed by an external translation partner