San Siro is celebrating its 100th anniversary, but it is a sombre occasion

‘What’s so strange? We’ve all been there,’ sings Vecchioni. Milanese, Italians, and fans from all over the world—right up to last winter’s Olympic spectacle. ‘Because the Meazza may not be the most modern or the most functional stadium, but it continues to have an unrivalled spirit. Something that gets under your skin, wins you over with its charm and makes you feel like you’re on the pitch yourself. Even after a hundred years.” It was 19 September 1926 when the stadium, which cut through pastures and racecourses with its early 20th-century modernity, hosted its inaugural match: Milan v Internazionale 3–6. “Since then it has become a home, a meeting place for generations, a vessel for family stories that go far beyond football. Tourists come here and take photos of it just like they do of the Duomo.” Speaking to Il Foglio Sportivo to offer their best wishes are Gianfelice Facchetti and Federico Jaselli Meazza: the son of Giacinto and the grandson of that Peppín after whom the stadium is now named. “I remember the first few times I went to the stadium with my grandfather. I must have been five or six years old; I didn’t really understand it yet and, as a child, I tended to make a bit of a racket: he would look at me sternly and tell me off a bit. I soon learnt to understand the significance of this place. Something very profound, cultural and collective. And one that, for a century, has written page after page of the history of an entire city.”

The chapters and key figures are clearly defined. “Piero Pirelli, who invested five million lire – a considerable sum in those days – just to build an English-style stadium, without an athletics track, solely for football,” says Facchetti. “And then there was Giuseppe Meazza, who, as a striker, made the club great whilst wearing two different shirts. It was he who later threw open the Nerazzurri’s doors to my father: I still carefully keep the first call-up letter, received for a tournament in Geneva in 1958. A sort of passing of the torch.” Right through to the captain’s armband, the triumphs with the Grande Inter, and the presidency of the club. It is no coincidence that two of San Siro’s most iconic moments were symbolically marked by the descendants of these legends. “It feels like only yesterday, that 2 March 1980, when I was invited to unveil the plaque on the commemorative stele that changed the name of this stadium. It was a ceremony that brought together fans and institutions,” smiles Jaselli Meazza. Twenty-eight years later, on the occasion of Inter’s centenary, it was Facchetti Junior who kicked off the celebrations: “Arriving at the touchline, seeing darkness fall all around, speaking in the reverent silence of a crowd that erupted into a roar immediately afterwards: I still get goosebumps thinking back on it.”

Why is Meazza so different from everything else? “It brings together an endless array of subplots, from the national team to concerts: musically, it’s a rock icon, rhythm in its purest form, a number ten on every front.” It matters little whether he’s holding a pick or a football. “The story begins with a single tier of stands with no curves: from there on, there was relentless structural and community growth, seat by seat, making room for ever more people. I think I’ve experienced sporting moments from every perspective, from every tier. San Siro is the journey to the match, the kiosk in Piazzale Lotto, the peeled chestnuts on the way home whilst listening to ‘Tutto il calcio minuto per minuto’ on the radio. It’s the emotional upbringing passed down by Dad Giacinto and the one I’ve tried to pass on to my own children: I brought my eldest here at four months old, in the year of the Treble. Yet certain things have changed over the years. Once upon a time, the desire to take part knew no social boundaries: now we’re witnessing a different kind of football. Safer, but also less spontaneous.” Peppín’s grandson agrees, recalling those many derbies that punctuated the gala evenings at the ‘Scala of football’. “A gem, appreciated by players and insiders of every generation: excellent visibility and extraordinary acoustics. Being so close to the players makes you feel part of the contest like nowhere else in the world, especially during the city derby. On the evening the stadium was named after my grandfather, Inter won thanks to a goal from Oriali: perhaps the most special moment of all. But it was a different era, with a different kind of excitement. The crowd was almost equally split between Nerazzurri and Rossoneri supporters, with a very strong Milanese presence, which gave the derby a special atmosphere: nowadays, however, with the new dynamics at the ticket office, it’s very clear who are the home side and who are the away side. Thus, the rivalry as experienced in the stands has also faded somewhat.” Facchetti, on the other hand, chooses 12 May 1965: “The historic night of the comeback against Liverpool, in the European Cup semi-final. For Dad, it was the match par excellence: the one capable of unleashing all the power and magic of San Siro when everyone is pulling in the same direction.”

Today, his son and grandson, both following in their father’s footsteps, keep his memory alive through books: Facchetti has written, amongst other titles, "C’era una volta a San Siro" (Edizioni Piemme, now in reprint), whilst Jaselli Meazza, together with Dario Ronzulli, has just published "Giuseppe Meazza. Storia di un mito" (Minerva, 224 pp.). “These are reflections containing a wealth of unpublished material, which seek to give a voice to the place and the people, not least to preserve those corners of time that are not destined to last forever in a stadium.” The future of the Meazza seems set, with Milan and Inter set on building a new home. “Let’s at least hope it isn’t demolished, though that won’t be easy. As incurable romantics, we like to believe that at least the name and the museum will remain: after all, one way or another, such a powerful and symbol-laden history will never be lost.” Even if the lights at San Siro will never shine again.