January 6, 2004 — AC Milan vs. Lecce
Cold fog settled over San Siro, thick and low, as if the sky itself wanted to press in and test the hearts below. Milan returned from winter break sharpened but wary — the pressure had not lessened. If anything, it had grown heavier. This was the season they were supposed to finish what they started.
In the locker room, Maldini walked slowly past each player, making quiet eye contact. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. Leadership flowed through him like breath.
Luca sat at his locker. Head bowed. Notebook closed. Hands clasped.
He wasn't nervous.
He was ready.
—
Ancelotti announced the squad with the calm rhythm of a man confident in his generals:
AC Milan lined up in a 4-3-1-2: Dida in goal; Maldini at left back, Luca Bellini and Nesta as center backs, Cafu on the right. The midfield trio featured Pirlo deep, flanked by Seedorf and Gattuso, with Kaká in the hole behind Shevchenko and Inzaghi.
Lecce countered with a defensive 4-4-2, hoping to frustrate, absorb, and punish on the counter. Chevanton and Vucinic led their line. Their plan: be patient. Then sting.
—
Kickoff roared beneath the lights. The fog gave the match a dreamlike haze. Vision was short. Shouts echoed strangely. But Milan, in red and black, pressed early.
Commentary buzzed through televisions across Italy:
"Bellini slots beside Nesta again tonight — a pairing that has the fans believing in steel again. The young center back has looked increasingly assured."
In the third minute, Cafu surged forward. A low cross. Shevchenko volleyed — saved.
In the seventh, Lecce broke. A long ball to Chevanton. Nesta stumbled.
Luca read it. Closed in like a gate. Timed his tackle. Won it clean.
Applause rolled like thunder.
"Textbook," murmured the commentator. "You'd think he'd been here a decade."
—
By the twentieth minute, Milan found rhythm.
Pirlo, ever calm, dictated tempo. Seedorf stretched wide. Gattuso barked, covering acres.
Then —
Minute 29: Kaká weaved through two midfielders, slid a diagonal pass into the box. Inzaghi ghosted past his marker — and finished with a low strike.
1–0.
The bench leapt. Ancelotti clenched a fist.
But no one celebrated more than Kaká and Luca, who bumped shoulders on the jog back.
"Still the best-looking assist," Luca joked.
"Coming from you, that's poetry."
—
Lecce responded with grit. Chevanton forced Dida into a low save in the 37th. Bellini rose to clear the corner — his third aerial win.
Halftime came. 1–0. Calm. Controlled.
In the locker room, Ancelotti didn't shout.
"Balance," he said, looking at Luca.
Luca nodded. "We're holding."
—
Second half.
The fog deepened.
In the 52nd, Lecce pushed high. A mistake in midfield. Quick counter. Vucinic broke through.
Only Luca stood between him and goal.
He didn't dive. He guided. Shadowed. Forced Vucinic wide — then stepped in.
Ball gone. Attack over.
The commentator whispered, "Bellini isn't just defending. He's dictating."
—
Minute 63: substitution. Ambrosini on for Seedorf. Gattuso pushed higher.
Minute 70: Shevchenko wins a foul outside the box.
Pirlo steps up.
Curved beauty.
2–0.
Game sealed.
Luca didn't score. He didn't need to.
He was everywhere.
—
Final whistle.
The crowd didn't roar. They applauded.
Because they saw something. A machine humming. A wall forming.
Maldini walked over. Draped an arm over Luca.
"You made it look easy."
"It wasn't."
"I know."
—
Back in the locker room, Kaká handed Luca a sports paper. The early draft.
Front headline: "THE WALL AND THE WAND — Bellini and Kaká shape Milan's charge."
Luca laughed. "We're a headline duo now."
"You're welcome."
Sofia called him later.
"I saw the match. You didn't even blink."
"I blinked twice. Maybe three times."
"I counted one."
They both smiled in silence.