A final farewell to Franco Baresi, captain of a bygone era of football

“Franco Baresi, an immortal legend, an inimitable standard-bearer whose flag will never cease to fly. Farewell, Captain.” This was the message that the Curva Sud chose to dedicate to Franco Baresi amidst tears, chants, applause and a Rossoneri flag bearing the number 6. From the early hours of the morning, the Basilica of Sant’Ambrogio was filled with figures who have shaped the history of Milan. A long procession of former teammates, club officials and friends gathered around the family: from Paolo Maldini to Marco Van Basten, including Roberto Baggio, Chicco Evani, Mauro Tassotti, Pietro Paolo Virdis, Daniele Massaro and Dejan Savicevic. Also present were the Minister for Sport, Andrea Abodi, and the Mayor of Milan, Giuseppe Sala. There was also a surprise appearance by an emotional Roger Federer. Representing today’s Milan side, currently in Perth, were club owner Gerry Cardinale, chairman Paolo Scaroni and chief executive Massimo Calvelli, as well as Christian Pulisic and Santiago Gimenez. Gordon Singer also paid tribute to Baresi from afar: the manager of Elliott, the investment fund that owned Milan from 2018 to 2022, sent a wreath of flowers. It was a moving moment just before the service began, when ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ rang out once more.

Then came the arrival of the coffin, the bells, the applause and the moved expressions of those present. Today we bid farewell to a certain way of understanding football: one characterised by silence rather than noise, by authority without showmanship, by responsibility even before talent. That farewell thus also becomes a tribute to a certain idea of sport: to loyalty, to moderation, to the beauty of simplicity. “You protected me as a child, guided me as a lad, inspired me as a man” – Paolo Maldini’s tribute to his Captain. Perhaps this is why the tribute to Baresi holds a significance that extends beyond Milan and beyond football. In an age when everything must be exceptional, he remained memorable without ever needing to be “perfect” even off the pitch. The funeral service lasted just under an hour. The words were measured. The expressions were sad and emotional. On leaving the Basilica of Sant’Ambrogio, the coffin was carried on the shoulders of Demetrio Albertini, Massimo Ambrosini, Alessandro Costacurta, Alberico Evani, Marco Simone and Pietro Paolo Virdis, to applause. His lifelong friends. No rhetoric. Some recalled his discipline, others his tenacity, but it matters little on a day like this. “It’s as if I’d lost a brother,” exclaimed Chicco Evani, his voice choked with emotion, as he left the Basilica. “Franco wasn’t just a team-mate or my captain; he was a friend with whom I shared many moments as I grew up.”

This is another reason why today’s funeral did not have the feel of nostalgia. Nostalgia is a lazy sentiment; it merely suggests that yesterday was better. Here, there was something different. There was a sense that certain words had lost their meaning along with the men who embodied them. ‘Captain’ is one of them. Today, it often refers to an armband. For a generation, it signified a character.