Date: June 22, 2020
Venue: San Siro, Milan
Fixture: AC Milan vs. AS Roma
Competition: Serie A – Post-lockdown Resumption
The world had changed.
The San Siro, once a cathedral roaring with eighty thousand voices, now stood still—an echo chamber of ghosts. Empty seats wrapped in tarps and cardboard cutouts, banners fluttering without applause, and silence where there was once thunder.
Inside the AC Milan dressing room, Enzo Sky Vito sat in front of his locker. Number 19. His name stitched above it in gold thread. The usual pre-match noise—jokes, shouts, reggaeton leaking from someone's speaker—was replaced by a strange hush. A solemn calm. Everyone knew this was more than a game.
He tied the laces on his brand-new Nike Mercurial Dream Speed boots—a custom design for the restart, laced in white and silver chrome, with "Sky" stitched on the side. As his fingers tightened the last loop, he looked up into the mirror. Behind his reflection, Leão threw him a wink.
"You ready to dance again, fratello?"
Enzo gave a small smile. "Born ready."
The Walkout.
The tunnel to the pitch was now lined with hand sanitizer dispensers. Each player stood apart, masks dangling from one ear. Referees gave elbow bumps instead of handshakes.
But once they crossed the white line—onto the grass—something timeless clicked.
"È tornato il calcio… ma in una nuova pelle!" cried the Sky Italia commentator. Football has returned… but in a new skin!
Enzo stepped onto the pitch and exhaled deeply. The still air of the San Siro carried everything. You could hear boots hitting the turf. You could hear teammates breathing. Even the flap of a bird flying overhead felt loud.
He looked around.
Empty. Still majestic. The silence didn't take the magic—it just changed its shape.
Kickoff.
Enzo started on the left wing. Hakan Calhanoglu, now more than a mentor, had given him a nod before the whistle. Pioli's trust in Enzo hadn't wavered—even after the break. The boy was no longer a boy. He was Milan's spark.
First touch—a zipped pass from Bennacer. Enzo's foot cushioned it like silk. He shifted his weight, then spun away from Florenzi in a blink.
"Ma che magia! Il ragazzino è tornato! Enzo Sky Vito—con un tocco di velluto!"
screamed the commentator. What magic! The kid has returned! With a velvet touch!
But still—no applause. Just the clap of boots. The echoes of effort.
15 minutes in.
Roma pressed. Zaniolo found space. Donnarumma saved a close-range volley with a guttural shout. Enzo sprinted back 40 yards to track Kolarov. He wasn't just flair anymore—he was fight.
23rd minute.
Leão switched the ball to the left. Enzo was isolated—one-vs-one. Florenzi backed off. The silence made everything more intimate. You could hear Enzo inhale, shift his body, then explode.
Stepover. Stepover. Cut inside. Shot!
"Colpo secco! Curva velenosa! Ma Pau López salva tutto!" A sharp strike! A venomous curl! But Pau López saves it all!
Halftime: 0-0.
In the locker room, Coach Pioli didn't scream. He just pointed.
"Enzo. More direct. They're scared of you."
Enzo nodded. Took a swig of water. Wiped sweat from his brow with a towel embroidered with the Milan crest. Leão leaned over, whispering, "Make them remember why football missed you."
Second Half.
52nd minute.
Milan countered. Kessié bulldozed through the center and played it wide.
Enzo was in stride. The pitch opened like a red carpet. He chopped inside, body low, feet fast—then released a pass across the box with a no-look flick.
"MA GUARDAAAA! Una palla d'artista! Un assist da circo! Rebic!
GOOOOOOOOLLLL!!!"
Would you believe it! A pass of pure artistry! A circus act of genius!
1–0 Milan.
Enzo didn't celebrate. No sliding knees. No shouting into a crowd that wasn't there. He just raised a hand to the sky, and pointed—Del Piero style. For the love of the game. For the silence.
Post-match.
They won 2–0. No press scrums. No fans waiting at the gates. Just distant cameras and distant questions on Zoom.
Enzo stood near the sideline, hands on hips, looking up at the empty seats.
"I miss them," he whispered.
A Sky Italia reporter held a boom mic towards him. "Enzo, you played like there were 80,000 here. What drives you?"
Enzo smiled. "Football is music. Sometimes, it plays in a stadium. Sometimes, in your soul."
Stats on the night:
90 minutes played
1 assist
7 successful dribbles
4 key passes
1 yellow card (for a sliding tackle in midfield)
Match rating: 8.5
Media Aftermath.
Gazzetta dello Sport: "Enzo Sky Vito—Il poeta del silenzio."
Corriere della Sera: "Milan riparte con Sky."
Sky Italia panel: "He's not just Italy's future.
He's Italy's present."
Back home, Enzo sat on his balcony, legs hanging over the edge, watching the empty streets of Milan. Below, a kid played with a ball, mimicking his stepovers in the reflection of a shop window.
Football had changed. But beauty found a way.
And so did Enzo.