Football can be harmony, beauty, class, joy and wonder. In summary: Marco van Basten. Marcel van Basten, who became Marco because his grandmother couldn’t pronounce his name well and called him Mark and his father, in love with Italy, had preferred to Italianize him, was born in Utrecht sixty years ago and became what we know in the Ajax of a Cruijff now in his twilight. It is precisely the symbol of Dutch football, however, that indicates him as a rising star and, in fact, his heir, sensing his potential and understanding that that dancer with the boots on his feet would mark an era. It is no coincidence that Berlusconi’s AC Milan took care of taking him to Italy, a land destined to play a decisive role in his life and his footballing adventure, eager to return to their former glories after a dark period and willing to do crazy things just to succeed intent. And so, in addition to Ruud Gullit, the Rossoneri also acquired the other Dutch tightrope walker, before completing the trio with a midfielder of overflowing talent called Frank Rijkaard. Van Basten has only one limit: his ankles. Fragile as ever, they will always be its Achilles’ heel. Despite the countless problems, or perhaps partly because of them, as evidenced by the anthology goal against the Soviet Union in the Euro ’88 final, he takes the master Cruijff’s place in the hearts of the Dutch.
In the Rossoneri shirt, however, he simply won everything, towering over for five years, before his career ended tragically, at the age of twenty-nine, at the end of the Champions League final lost to Marseille in ’93. Those five years, however, will remain eternally in the hearts of anyone who loves Milan and football. Not so much for the class, for the plays, for the physical power, for the three Golden Balls won, for the impossible goals scored (we mentioned the one in the orange shirt, but what about the acrobatic header with which he allowed to Milan to draw at the Bernabéu in the first leg of the semi-final against Real Madrid, before the haul of goals in the return match at San Siro that would have propelled Sacchi’s team towards winning their third European Cup?) and for everything that Marco he represented on the pitch as much as the example he was especially in difficult moments.
In this regard, his farewell to football is memorable, on the evening of 17 August 1995, before the Berlusconi Trophy against Juventus, in front of a stadium full of emotion and heartbreak, after an unequal struggle with himself and with pain now impossible to sustain. He was the only opponent capable of stopping him, after challenging and overcoming the strongest defenders of an era when authentic mastiffs played behind. He never gave up, he never held back, he faced every match head on and only said enough when he understood that there was nothing left to do, that the champion who had dazzled audiences everywhere would never return the world. Better to stop, therefore, before the decline, before being defeated by the claim of stopping time and defeating an evil that had eaten away at his soul even before on a physical level. That evening, in the stands at San Siro, a banner was displayed which read: “Van Basten football”. This was it and his fans, in tears, knew how to write it better than anyone else.
He was and will always remain the Swan, with his crystal ankles, his étoile movements, his innate elegance and the kindness that allowed him to be what he was and to remain himself despite wealth, fame and the passion he was able to arouse.
Happy birthday to a simple man, to an immense champion, to a respectable person! Football, precisely, as it should be.
Van Basten, football was last modified: October 27th, 2024 by
Van Basten, football
last edit: 2024-10-27T18:59:59+01:00
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