Crimson Wall: The Last Defender

November 16, 2003 — Milan, International Break

For once, there was no match.

No tunnel roar. No sleepless night reviewing movement charts. No tactical drills or referee whistles. Just soft November rain dripping off the awnings of Via Tortona, where Luca Bellini stood under a black umbrella, checking his watch.

She was late.

But then, from across the street, he spotted her. Sofía.

Hair tucked into a coat collar. Umbrella leaning slightly sideways. Laughing at something a cab driver said before she crossed.

Luca couldn't help but smile.

"Sorry," she said as she arrived, slightly out of breath. "Surgery ran long."

"You always say that."

"It's always true."

They ducked into a small trattoria — Luca had booked it days ago, after hesitating for hours. He'd even scouted the place once after training, sitting at the bar alone with a cappuccino.

Now, candles flickered on white linen. The hum of conversation filled the narrow space. Outside, Milan softened beneath the rain.

They ordered wine. Sea bass for her, veal for him.

"So," she said, swirling her glass, "how does it feel being the next face of Italian football?"

He chuckled. "They exaggerate."

"They do. But you love it."

He paused, weighing his response.

"I love the work," he said at last. "And the moments. Not the attention."

Sofía tilted her head. "You've changed, though. You're more open. A year ago, you'd never have picked this place. Or invited me properly."

He looked down at his plate.

"I'm learning," he said quietly.

She reached across the table and touched his hand. Just briefly.

He didn't pull away.

—

Back at Milanello, the mood was relaxed. International players had left for duty. Training sessions were shorter, more personalized.

Luca stayed behind with Nesta, Cafu, and Maldini. Ancelotti used the time to reinforce individual growth — watching film, refining shape.

One morning, Ancelotti set them into a defensive four in isolation. No midfield. No strikers. Just drills.

"Cafu, press high. Maldini, be ready to recover. Luca — you sweep behind Nesta. Adjust with the ball."

This was their new permanent shape.

**AC Milan's standard formation was now settled: 4-3-1-2.**

Dida in goal. Cafu (right), Nesta and Luca in central defense, Maldini on the left. Pirlo deep in midfield, flanked by Gattuso and Seedorf. Kaká just ahead, with Shevchenko and Inzaghi rotating up front.

It was balance. Fluidity. Firepower.

Nesta clapped Luca's shoulder after one rep.

"You're more vocal. That's good. Keep directing."

Luca nodded. "Learning from the best."

Cafu grinned. "One day, you'll have your own juniors to yell at."

—

That week, he was invited to a live TV interview for Rai Sport. Sitting in the studio, lights hot on his neck, he wore a black jacket over a turtleneck.

The host, Massimo Caputi, asked: "Luca, did you expect to become a starter this soon?"

He shook his head. "No. But I prepared like I would."

"And your system — this mental journaling, your notes — does it give you an edge?"

"It helps me understand the game. And myself."

"You're the youngest center back to start regularly for Milan since Baresi."

Luca smiled, but didn't answer.

Caputi continued: "There are whispers — Ballon d'Or buzz. Too early?"

Luca looked into the camera. "I care about trophies with my team. If others come, they come."

—

That evening, he returned home and found Sofía waiting on the steps outside his apartment.

"I was in the neighborhood," she lied.

"You don't live near here."

She shrugged. "Felt like talking."

He opened the door.

They sat in his kitchen. She took off her shoes, curled into his couch.

He made tea.

She asked, "Why haven't you dated anyone seriously since Siena?"

He froze, fingers stilling around the spoon.

"I've been busy," he said.

She gave him a look. "Busy? Or scared?"

He didn't answer.

They sat in silence.

Then she stood, kissed his cheek, and whispered, "When you're ready, let me know."

She left before he could reply.

—

Luca sat alone for an hour. Then he picked up his notebook.

November 16 — International Break

Minutes: 0

But progress made.

Training: tight

Formation: stable

Maldini — left back solid

Kaká — building link

Sofía — dinner

Heart: unsettled

He closed the notebook.

Then, he looked at the door she had just walked through.