The 2026 Milan Cortina Games kicked off amid the lights of the Opening Ceremony directed by Balich and the shadows of RAI (few but present!). Some are hanging on to the train, while others are thrown off without revealing much, Queen Elizabeth II style. There are flaws in Italy and... in America, too: Mariah Carey, who can't fly well, and Vance, who was booed, are a prime example. Now let's turn to sports.
Sleeping on it must not have been easy for Mariah Carey, the only one who slipped from the lines of the musical staff of that Harmony advocated by Marco Balich for three and a half hours—including the athletes' parades—broadcast worldwide. The American artist slightly tarnished her own history of 220 million records sold with her…slippery rendition of Modugno's "Volare": for once, the blue was less painted blue, just as the United States of James David Vance (Donald J. Trump's vice president) appeared less blatantly unassailable than it once was.
From the 85.000 people present at the San Siro Stadium (which soon after became the former Scala of football) boos went up at Vance and many of those present would have wanted to underline Carey's performance in a negative way if at that moment of the Ceremony which had just begun, spirits had not still been lukewarm due to the freezing weather in the Lombardy capital.
These are perhaps the only discordant notes from a magical night, which has caused the criticism of anti-Games haters to bounce to a corner. Or perhaps there's a third that didn't spare Auro Bulbarelli, the kid who at the Giro d'Italia sent reporters' faxes and the day's results to the Gazzetta dello Sport. He was good at billiards. Then he got to know the riders. And over time, "Aurone" climbed the ladder of management at Raisport, only to slip a couple of times into the abyss of internal wars within Rai until he was rescued. Then he was thrust into the abyss of a senseless punishment for having somehow anticipated what would have been the "performance" planned for President Sergio Mattarella: arriving at the Meazza Stadium aboard a historic tram—the one used to show the city to the wealthiest gourmet tourists—with an exceptional driver: Valentino Rossi.
Two observations in this regard:
A) That tram could have greeted our friend and skilled driver Mauro Gallo. He could have been Mattarella's ideal guardian angel, accompanying him to the destination of the journey to Piazzale Axum, designed for the children of Milan's multi-ethnic community, under the wing and protection of the President of all. But, as we all know, Valentino is always... Valentino.
B) Bulbarelli could have easily hosted the prime time show on Rai Uno because he had only leaked to Mattarella that he would arrive at San Siro in the style of Queen Elizabeth II (who flew over the London Olympics ceremony in a helicopter in the style of James Bond).
The feeling is that some RAI bigwig has jumped on the bandwagon to present an unjustified account to the politicized Bulbarelli in the midst of a latent settling of scores. And he's forced him to jump on the bandwagon himself. What will they do now with the man who was "a young poet worthy of a prize" in 2015 (and more than fifteen years have passed and he's no longer young and not yet a poet) who, after having racked our brains during endless stages of the Giro d'Italia and the Tour de France, on the evening of February 6th, in the middle of Marco Balich's performance, let loose a remark along the lines of how if instead of Puccini there had been a musician with the surname Bianchini, we'd have a trio of Verdi, Bianchini, and Rossini—the colors of the national flag? No offense to Fabio Genovesi: it's clear that the cold, which he endures even in the mountains in summer, isn't his thing. And puns even less so.
Even Mia, the big cat in pain from having a tooth pulled, turned away, disgusted, and sought the furthest seat possible from the television to continue sleeping, sheltered from such inane remarks on state television, in prime time, in the middle of a production intended for two billion people, a quarter of the world's population. And even Stefania Belmondo, if we may, we'd rather remember her on skis than at the microphone as a commentator. We're told that the real bouts of sleep came during the athletes' parades, multiplied at least twice, and during the Piedmontese actress's underlining. We remained glued to the screen even during those moments, without needing Boccelli to keep us awake with "Nessun dorma."
The minor discrepancies—including the questionable promotion of the once-soft Celentano to the status of a universal figure, like a Leonardo da Vinci of pop songs—cannot undermine the harmony that Balich has once again radiated from the heights of his 16 ceremonies, including the Olympics, World Championships, and Expo. After all, what can someone who starts their career as a youngster as a set designer for the Pink Floyd concert in Venice end up proposing in their adulthood? Over time, we will end up remembering Mattarella as inclusive, Rossi grappling with a tram with fixed routes, Bergomi and Baresi as rivals and friends, Tomba reconciled with the crowds, Pausini as adept at warbling the Mameli Anthem.
Everything. And more.
The fireworks displays, the opening of the Games announced by Mattarella, the simultaneous lighting of the two braziers (the only real novelty of the first Olympics spread across 22.000 square kilometers, considering that the 2002 World Cup in Korea and Japan was much more widespread and far more focused on logistical rather than emotional initiation); after bidding farewell to Astro Samantha Cristoforetti, once torchbearers of the caliber of Bergomi, Baresi, Weissensteiner, Di Centa, Fabris, Nones, Thoeni, Tomba, Compagnoni, and Goggia arrived at their destination between Milan and Cortina, with the acceptance of football in its chosen time, the Milan-Cortina 2026 Olympics sadly consigned the San Siro/Meazza to physical destruction and began for real. The initial phases of hockey and curling should be considered merely "previews." It's the Stelvio slope in Bormio that truly raises the curtain on sporting challenges, turning the page on the Opening Ceremony for which some paid up to 2.000 euros each and others entered the Meazza with a ticket costing just 26 euros...
This is Italy's fourth Olympic Games, after Cortina 1956, Rome 1960 (…yes, Abebe Bikila's Games barefoot on the cobblestones of the marathon!), and Turin 2006. Over seventy years, the IOC has allowed the nation to launch a fascinating location into orbit, revolutionize the country's capital, and elevate Sabaudia to a sporting hub of excellence, freeing itself from the automotive industry. What will be the legacy—the much-vaunted legacy—of Milan Cortina 2006? Is it simply a debt to be passed on to younger generations? We hope not, even though there are many strong concerns about this, considering that only 48 of the 98 "guaranteed" infrastructure projects have been completed, and considering that the "zero cost" has already reached €6 billion in expenditure, the bills for completed work will continue to rain down on the public finances for another six or seven years, with figures obviously higher than those estimated.
They know something about it in Montreal, which for more than forty years has paid off the debts accrued by the surge in visibility dating back to 1976. But they have recovered from that financial blow and in the third week of September 2026, the Quebec city will host the Cycling World Championships.
It will be what it will be.
Now let's enjoy the Sports Games. Italy is aiming for 20 medals. We're aiming for the resurrection of Brignone and Goggia.
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