Milanello hummed with the rhythm of routine. A Tuesday morning in September brought overcast skies and light drizzle — the kind of weather that settled into your bones. But inside the main training hall, the mood was anything but dreary.
Luca Bellini stood at the center of a small-sided tactical drill, his eyes tracking the movement of both ball and bodies like clockwork. It was a possession game — limited touches, sharp pressure, and chaos by design.
He didn't speak much. But when he did, it was clear.
"Left shoulder!" he barked.
Cafu adjusted instantly.
"Rotate back!"
Seedorf nodded and passed to safety.
And when the timer buzzed, Luca was breathing steady. He wasn't just present anymore. He was visible.
---
After the session, Ancelotti called him into the glass-walled office that overlooked the training pitch. Rain traced lines across the window like ink.
"You ready for a start?" he asked, sitting back in his chair.
Luca didn't hesitate. "Yes, Mister."
"Coppa Italia this Thursday. First leg against Sampdoria. At San Siro. I want you leading the back line. Maldini will rest. Nesta on the bench."
Luca didn't nod.
He blinked once — his system kicking in. Count the moment. Process. Store it.
"I won't let you down," he said.
"You already haven't."
---
Later that day, as the team boarded the bus to return to the city, Kaká slid into the seat beside him, earbuds out, smile wide.
"You smell like a start," he said.
Luca raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"
"Means you're different today. Taller somehow."
"I'm always 190."
"Not what I meant. You carry things differently now. Like… belief."
Luca leaned his head back against the glass. "Maybe I'm just tired."
Kaká elbowed him gently. "Maybe. Or maybe you're ready."
---
On Wednesday night, Sofía called. She was finishing a late shift at the student medical clinic, her voice crackly through the static.
"You nervous?" she asked.
"No."
"Liar."
Luca smiled. "Not nervous. Just aware. It's different."
"You've always been aware. Just don't forget to enjoy it, okay?"
"You'll be there?"
"In the second row. Same seat. Always."
---
Thursday — San Siro – Coppa Italia: Milan vs. Sampdoria
The sky had cleared by kickoff. September dusk cast a golden sheen across the stadium, painting everything red and soft. The kind of night built for firsts.
In the locker room, the energy was light. The senior squad had been partially rotated — a mix of starters and backups. Ancelotti laid out the plan clearly.
"Sampdoria will try to catch us on transition. Stay focused. Bellini—your voice leads the line tonight. You're the center of everything."
Luca stood tall, lacing his boots in silence. His hands were steady. His jaw relaxed. And when he stepped out into the tunnel, he breathed once through the nose — in and out.
The noise hit him like a wave.
But he didn't blink.
---
Match Broadcast Commentary
> "And there he is — Luca Bellini, just 19, making his first official start for Milan tonight in the Coppa Italia. He'll wear number 13, leading the back line with Kaladze. This is a big moment for the local boy from the academy."
> "Milan's XI tonight: Abbiati in goal; Simic, Kaladze, Bellini, and Serginho across the back; midfield trio of Ambrosini, Redondo, and Rui Costa; and in attack, Tomasson, Kaká, and Jon Dahl supporting from deep. A rotated but dangerous side."
> "Sampdoria respond with Antonioli in goal; Bettarini, Conte, Falcone, and Sacchetti at the back; Palombo, Doni, and Volpi in midfield; Flachi, Bazzani, and Kutuzov leading the line in a 4-3-3."
---
From the first whistle, the match was fast. Sampdoria didn't press blindly — they waited for mistakes. And on one early long ball, Bellini had to slide across to intercept a cut inside from Flachi.
He timed it well — body low, one touch to knock it away. Applause rippled from the east stand.
"Good," Kaladze said behind him. "Stay loud."
Luca did.
By the 24th minute, he was marshalling the line with authority. Arms up. Gestures sharp. Even Rui Costa turned to him once after a miscommunication and nodded.
It meant more than words.
---
At halftime, the score was 0–0, but Milan had dominated possession. Ancelotti's voice was low, controlled.
"You're doing your job," he said to Luca. "Now keep your feet under you. They'll press late. Stay clean. Stay calm."
Luca didn't sit. He stretched near the tunnel, eyes fixed on the floor, his own notes forming inside his head.
---
The second half opened with a burst of energy. In the 52nd minute, Kaká slipped between two defenders and curled a shot into the far post — 1–0.
Luca didn't run to celebrate.
He pointed to the defense, regrouping everyone immediately.
Responsibility over emotion.
But when Kaká passed by later and ruffled his hair, he didn't stop it.
"You're such an old man," Kaká joked.
---
The real test came in the 78th minute.
A flick from Kutuzov bounced dangerously between Kaladze and Bellini. Flachi spun between them, and for half a second, it was open space.
Luca burst forward — a clean shoulder challenge that sent both of them down. No foul. Ball first.
The crowd erupted.
---
> "Bellini! A perfect tackle at the edge of the box. The kid is ice cold. I can't stress enough how composed he looks for his age."
---
The final whistle blew.
AC Milan 1 – Sampdoria 0
---
Luca didn't raise his arms or fall to his knees. He simply shook Kaladze's hand and walked toward the dugout. The applause followed him all the way in.
In the locker room, Ancelotti clapped twice.
"Well led," he said to Luca.
Then Maldini stepped in — he hadn't played, but he'd watched.
"That was a captain's performance," he said.
Luca didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
---
That night, Sofía waited near the tunnel. She had a scarf wrapped tight around her neck, eyes bright in the stadium lights.
He walked over quietly.
"You didn't celebrate much," she said.
"I didn't score."
"Still. You looked... proud."
"I was. A little."
She pulled something from her coat — a chocolate bar and a folded page from La Gazzetta.
"The paper's already calling you 'The Iron Reader'."
He chuckled. "That's ridiculous."
"Still. I like it."
They sat on the steps outside the player's exit. The city buzzed somewhere in the distance. For a moment, they were just two kids again.
---
At home, Luca wrote:
> September 11 — Coppa Italia: Milan 1 – Sampdoria 0
First full 90'
Clean sheet
5 clearances, 3 tackles, 2 blocks
Vocal presence up
Rated 7.5 in Gazzetta
Kaká: key goal
Sofía: said I looked proud
Let it sink in. Then move forward.