From a curious name mix-up at birth to iconic goals, a infamous penalty miss, and witty exchanges with football`s aristocracy, Aldo Serena`s career has been anything but ordinary. Dive into the multifaceted life of a player who embraced every challenge, on and off the pitch, before finding his second calling as a celebrated voice in sports commentary.
A Name, A Childhood, A Legacy Forged in Work
Every legend has an origin story, and Aldo Serena`s begins with a delightful bureaucratic hiccup. Born Antonio, a decision made by his parents and intended for his baptism, his grandmother, with an understated act of familial devotion, registered him as Aldo – the name of his recently departed grandfather. This charming duality meant that while he was officially Aldo, many in his hometown of Montebelluna still knew him as Tonino. This early, almost accidental, embrace of two identities perhaps foreshadowed a career that would see him wear the jerseys of Italy`s most storied clubs.
Montebelluna in the 1960s was not just a birthplace; it was a crucible of character. From the tender age of eight, Serena spent his afternoons in his uncle`s shoe factory, crafting specialized mountain footwear. This wasn`t merely child`s play; it was a formative experience, instilling a work ethic that would define his athletic pursuits. Years later, debuting for Inter at San Siro, the sight of his former factory colleagues cheering from the Curva Nord fueled him with an extra burst of passion, celebrating his first goal by running directly towards their section – a testament to his roots and the enduring bonds of community.
His early football journey was not without its ironies. Despite being a “super Inter fan,” a trial at Milanello at age 12-13, a gift of a Gianni Rivera poster (signed, though Rivera himself was away on international duty), and a subsequent rejection due to his small stature (a mere 1.56m) provided an early lesson in humility. Yet, the poster remained, a quiet consolation. Serena, however, found inspiration not in the polished perfection of a Rivera, but in the “irregulars” – mavericks like George Best, Gigi Meroni, Gabriele Oriali, and Swedish striker Edström, players who defied convention with their socks rolled down and their play imbued with raw flair.
It wasn`t just football that shaped his unique skill set. Serena credits basketball, a passion nurtured by watching Yugoslavian league games on TeleCapodistria, for his exceptional aerial prowess. He dreamt of emulating legends like Cosic and Dalipagic, learning to jump and play with fierce determination. While his 1.87m height proved insufficient for a basketball career, those vertical leaps translated perfectly to the football pitch, making his head a formidable weapon.
The Agnelli Anecdote and a Missed Rock Concert
Serena`s heading ability became so renowned that it earned him one of Gianni Agnelli`s legendary, albeit sometimes sharp, aphorisms: “Serena is strong from the waist up.” It was a comment both complimentary and, as Serena rightly felt, a touch “poisonous and unjust.” The day after, Juventus president Giampiero Boniperti, ever the diplomat, assured Serena that Agnelli`s words didn`t reflect the club`s true appreciation, comparing him to the legendary Roberto Bettega. Agnelli, in typical fashion, later softened his stance, declaring, “I didn`t think Serena was so strong.” What followed was a series of dawn phone calls from the Advocate himself, a ritual many high-profile figures experienced, where Serena learned to feign lucidity at 5:30 AM while Agnelli quizzed him on everything, especially upcoming opponents, often with his beloved huskies by his side.
His transfer from Inter to Juventus in the summer of 1985 adds another chapter to his uniquely Italian football saga, intertwining with rock `n` roll. While on loan at Torino, Juventus expressed keen interest, offering Tardelli in return. Inter President Ernesto Pellegrini summoned Serena for a late-night meeting on June 21st. Serena, however, had a prior engagement: tickets to Bruce Springsteen`s first concert in Italy at San Siro. A true fan, he initially pleaded to reschedule. Pellegrini, oblivious to “the Boss,” insisted. Serena, ever the professional, left the concert early, sacrificing the encores, only to be ambushed by journalists outside Pellegrini`s home. The headline wrote itself: Serena was off to Juventus, and he`d missed Springsteen`s grand finale.
Decades later, in a full-circle moment, Serena attended Springsteen`s San Siro concert again, nearly forty years after that fateful night. He notes the 75-year-old Boss`s three-hour, uninterrupted show as a profound lesson in enduring passion. His favorite Springsteen anthem? “Born to Run,” a title perhaps echoing his own relentless career.
A Tale of Two Milans and a Feisty Director
Serena`s career saw him traverse the hallowed grounds of all three Italian giants: Inter, Juventus, and AC Milan. His stints at Milan offer a stark, almost theatrical, contrast of eras. His first arrival in 1982 found a club recently relegated to Serie B, yet paradoxically buoyed by an “incredible affection” from its loyal fanbase. Under coach Ilario Castagner, the team played a “spectacular game” and swiftly returned to Serie A. However, the financial realities under president Giussy Farina were, shall we say, unconventional.
Before a crucial season opener against Sambenedettese, the team arrived at Milanello for their pre-match retreat only to find a commotion of trucks and vans. The reason? Milanello was being prepared to host a wedding reception the very next day. Farina, in a rather pragmatic move for revenue generation, would rent out the state-of-the-art training facility for any event imaginable. This forced the team to relocate their retreats to a city hotel, a rather undignified arrangement for a club of Milan`s stature. This chaotic period culminated in Farina`s acquisition of English striker Luther Blissett, a player Castagner famously disliked for his one-dimensional, pace-dependent attacking style.
His second spell at Milan revealed a club utterly transformed. Under Silvio Berlusconi`s visionary leadership, Milanello had become a “flowered, beautiful park,” with every room renovated, facilities modernized, and a pioneering medical sector that saw staff dispatched to learn from the Chicago Bulls, then the pinnacle of sports science. Serena enjoyed a good relationship with coach Fabio Capello, though his interactions with CEO Adriano Galliani were a different story. Years later, Galliani famously called into a live TV show, Controcampo, where Serena was a guest, to heatedly dispute a criticism Serena had made. Galliani`s declaration that Serena would “never enter San Siro again” proved to be an empty threat; Serena, ever tranquil, continued to enter the stadium as always.
Italia `90: The Agony of the Marble Legs
Italia `90 stands as a poignant, dual-edged sword in Serena`s memory. It began gloriously with a goal against Uruguay. Yet, the enduring image for many, and certainly for Serena, is the semi-final penalty shootout against Argentina. Serena, by his own admission, was “never a penalist.” As extra time ended in Naples, he desperately hoped to avoid the dreaded spot-kick. But national coach Azeglio Vicini, facing a shortage of takers, turned to him. Serena, hoping for a reprieve, suggested Vicini “try another round” of players. Vicini returned moments later, and Serena, with a heavy heart, agreed, entering a state of “trance.”
As he rose, his legs felt like “marble,” an unbearable stiffness. He tried to breathe deeply, to quell the rising panic, but the anxiety was overwhelming. Walking towards the spot, the goal seemed to shrink, and Argentina`s legendary penalty-stopping goalkeeper, Goycochea, loomed impossibly large. On the verge of a panic attack, he tried not to angle his shot too much, fearing he might miss wide, but in doing so, he didn`t angle it enough. Goycochea saved it. “I plunged into total darkness,” Serena recalls, remembering nothing of the hours that followed, his memory resuming only at the third-place play-off against England in Bari.
Despite the pain of that moment, Serena`s courage to step up is undeniable, especially when compared to others, including some `fuoriclasse`, who chose to shy away. Yet, he harbors no judgment, understanding that if a player feels unwell or incapable, refusal is the better option. Since that day, he has never taken another penalty. He did, however, convert one in the 1985 Intercontinental Cup with Juventus in Tokyo, but that was different, he explains, as he was prepared and on the list of designated takers, unlike the impromptu pressure of Italia `90.
Loyalties, Legends, and Liberating Laughter
The 1985 Intercontinental Cup win in Tokyo also brought Serena closer to Michel Platini, a player he admired for his “intelligence and irony.” Platini, with his characteristic wit, once offered Serena a disguised piece of tactical advice: “Aldo, are you happy here? I wanted you because I want you to head the ball back to me so I can shoot.” Serena, understanding the hidden criticism, made a point of looking for Platini with his headers from then on.
Having played for Inter, Juventus, and Milan, Serena holds a special place in his heart for each. He confesses to always being an Inter fan, winning a record-breaking Scudetto with Giovanni Trapattoni there. Yet, his experience at Juventus was “unique.” He found a simultaneously familial and highly organized environment, with an obsessive attention to detail, where every aspect, even a poorly conducted interview, was discussed. Juventus, he notes, pushed players to improve, and he left “a piece of his heart there,” especially due to his bond with Gaetano Scirea, a teammate and captain who welcomed him like a brother after his move from Torino. Scirea, he remembers, was a “fuoriclasse inside and outside the field.”
During his second stint at Inter in the “Milano da bere” era of the 1980s, Serena, naturally serious and controlled, encountered Nicola Berti, who taught him “healthy lightness.” Berti`s legendary parties at his Piazza Liberty apartment, with its terrace overlooking Corso Vittorio Emanuele, were open houses. “Anyone could enter,” Serena recalls, finding not only beautiful women but, on one memorable evening, the author Andrea De Carlo quietly observing the scene. These gatherings, Berti`s way of releasing the immense pressure on footballers, offered a vital escape.
The spirit of Berti`s hospitality extended to the 1994 World Cup in the USA, where Serena, now a fan, stayed with Berti and a partner in a beautiful Soho townhouse in New York. This residence, later sold to Patti Smith, was a hub of activity, frequented by fashion photographers and top models (Serena discreetly avoids naming names, though the likes of Naomi Campbell, Eva Herzigova, and Linda Evangelista were known to be among them). Many Italian national team players, including those under coach Arrigo Sacchi, would visit for some much-needed relaxation.
It was during this World Cup that Serena committed a charming gaffe. Sitting in the stands for Italy`s match against Ireland, he vehemently criticized coach Sacchi for not bringing on Nicola Berti, believing the team needed his presence. Unbeknownst to him, he was sitting next to two blonde women he presumed were American. After Italy`s defeat, one of them, asking to pass, revealed her Italian heritage: “I am Federica Sacchi, the coach`s daughter.” Serena, mortified, was saved by Berti`s quick-thinking partner, who invited Federica and her friend to one of their famed Soho parties, where the misunderstanding was gracefully resolved.
The Second Act: A Voice in the Booth
Summer 1994 marked the beginning of Serena`s second life as a television commentator. Ettore Rognoni of Mediaset offered him the position left by Roberto Bettega, who was returning to Juventus as a director. His inaugural match, a friendly between Lazio and Ajax, provided an immediate, invaluable lesson. The game was dull, a consequence of the heat, and Serena, in his honest style, proclaimed it as such. A voice in his earpiece immediately reported a drop of “twenty thousand viewers.” He persisted, and another “ten thousand” vanished. At halftime, director Popi Bonnici explained the commercial television reality: “Aldo, audience numbers come first. Describe what you see, don`t sugarcoat anything, but do it with measure, without exaggerating, otherwise you`ll make the ratings collapse.” It was a crucial lesson in tempering candor with commercial awareness, shaping his approach to commentary ever since.
Serena has since participated in countless broadcasts, including 17 Champions League finals. He speaks highly of his colleagues, praising Pierluigi Pardo for his “dialectics and ability to find information online during the match,” and the meticulous preparation at Sky, his current home. However, his “special affection” is reserved for Bruno Longhi and Sandro Piccinini, his first broadcasting companions, with whom he shared “many adventures.”
The Enduring Essence of Sport
When asked about the most beautiful moment of his sporting life, Serena bypasses club triumphs and World Cup drama. Instead, he points to the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics. Although Italy finished fourth, earning a “cardboard medal” after losing the semi-final to Brazil and the bronze match to Yugoslavia, the experience in the Olympic Village was “magical.” It was there, amidst the global tapestry of athletes, that he truly discovered “the essence of sport.”
Aldo Serena`s journey is a rich tapestry woven with goals, gaffes, personal growth, and unwavering passion. From the factory floor to the grandest stadiums, from the quiet resolve of a player to the insightful candor of a commentator, his story is a testament to the unpredictable, yet ultimately fulfilling, path of a true football icon.
Gilbert Pendleton