That lake with a view of the Champions League. Como’s unprecedented season

For over a month now, the new curve of the Giuseppe Sinigaglia Stadium has been reflected in the green waters of the lake. A Cubist reflection, taking shape and then fading away. The black shadow of the concrete structure, which has replaced the one made of Innocenti tubes, blends with the golden and emerald reflections on the rippling surface of Lake Como, stirred by the countless waves created by the wakes of the many boats that, travelling ever faster, cut through the first basin of Lake Como.

The new stand is imposing. Imposing, at least, for that small stadium just a stone’s throw from the water. The V-shape between the two sections of the ancient grandstand – which used to offer a glimpse from the pitch of the woods and villas climbing up towards San Fermo – has vanished: in its place are 290 extra seats. And a framework of pillars that seems set to remain there for good. A bit like Como 1907. The empty space beneath the stands will be filled with something. Or at least that’s what the plans envisage. For now, it remains imposing and incomplete, much like Como looks from the waters of its lake, with its temporary railings amongst the gardens of the Tempio Voltiano, which, year after year, seem increasingly permanent.

Of the original project by architect Giovanni Greppi – one of the earliest examples of Rationalist architecture in Italy, and the first to be applied to sport – less and less remains. The original entrance, however, still stands. And in the city, that is enough. Of the original Como 1907 project, on the other hand, everything has disappeared – at least on the pitch – because the management remains the same, with the exception of Michael Bambang Hartono, who died on 19 March this year. He was the owner – or rather, co-owner – the man who, together with his brother Robert Budi, decided to invest in a club in dire financial straits to transform it into a footballing gem worthy of the splendour of the lake on which its stadium is reflected.

Como 1907 has evolved, much faster than the fans had hoped.

8 September, the day the first phase of the Champions League kicks off, is still a good two weeks away. The days are being counted down. Como has never experienced what it’s like to play in Europe. In 120 years of history, it has played in the top Italian league just sixteen times (today marks the start of its seventeenth). It will find out first-hand by competing in Europe’s most prestigious cup competition.

And if you’ve ever strolled through the town or along the lake, you can’t help but smile; you find yourself thinking that this is a historical mistake. Because Como’s place is in Europe. Como and its lake have always been a crossroads for men and women from all over the continent. On the other hand, as Hermann Hesse wrote to Stefan Zweig, “Como embodies a blossoming of Europe that has emerged over centuries of people travelling from everywhere to everywhere. You can see it in the faces, the manners, and the languages spoken around the lake and in the city”. Lake Como, with its thousand languages, which have remained embedded – despite themselves and without their knowledge – in the ä, ö, ü, œ and æ sounds of the Laghèe dialect.

Europe has arrived in football too. “It was bound to happen; we were certain of it. But… but we thought it would be the Europa League, and the Champions League only in the coming years. We were prepared for the Europa League, perhaps not for the Champions League, but it’s better this way. Starting straight away in the most important competition is incredibly satisfying. It allows us to dream just a little bit more,” Danilo Bernasconi tells "Il Foglio Sportivo" whilst standing beneath the new Como ultras’ stand. He’s there, acting the bit of a show-off a bit ahead of his time – he’s still working and will have to keep working for a while –; partly out of a sense of responsibility because the stadium “will be my home for at least twenty-four matches this year; I have a duty to keep an eye on things”, he smiles; partly to enjoy the shade for the duration of a cigarette before heading back to work, “I work nearby: I can say my life’s all about home, work and church, even if my church is all about football”.

European football is just the latest in a series of major developments brought about by the beautiful game. “All the countries around the lake have always been united by ‘laghèe’ pride – if that’s how it can be described – and little else. The dialect spoken in the city is somewhat different from that spoken in Gravedona, not to mention that of Colico or Varenna. Not even the shared cultural imagination is the same,” explains Emilio Riva to “Il Foglio Sportivo”; for almost forty years he has been a teacher of Italian and Latin at the classical grammar school and a scholar of local customs, traditions and history. He has also been a Como supporter for sixty years. Top-flight football in Como “has had the merit of giving the whole lake a new shared spirit, a new prospect of unity, or at least to those who do not consider themselves from Lecco but rather ‘laghèe’”. ‘Semm cumasch’ is not just a slogan on scarves and stickers displayed in bars, on balconies, on cars, on bicycles and on road signs, but ‘it is a phrase that has taken on a new meaning; it has become a focal point of “laghèe” pride, a hallmark amongst those who have stayed to live here, amongst those who have decided not to leave the rugged shores of a lake that for far too long had been forgotten by everyone, including its own inhabitants”.

A sense of pride built on T-shirts featuring Nico Paz and his teammates, on enthusiasm that goes hand in hand with a love for Cesc Fàbregas, and on ringtones featuring the tune of “Pulènta e galèna frègia”, the song by Davide Van de Sfroos that has become the anthem of Como 1907 supporters.

Fans who have changed, who have grown up. “And thank goodness…” Emilio Riva no longer goes on away trips; “it’s a young person’s thing, though I don’t know how many of these young people would have come along years ago to potter round the little stadiums in Serie C and Serie D. I’ve got nothing against them, it’s just that when it comes to football, you get a bit bitter thinking back to what those away trips to San Giovanni Valdarno, Lugo or Casale used to be like.” And on those away trips, “on rickety buses heading for dilapidated stadiums, it really did happen that someone would have pulènta and galèna frègia or pulènta and zola in their lunchbox, and, always and without fail, huge bottles of Barbera as thick as petrol”. Now, at the stadium, there are those who sip champagne and nibble on truffle canapés. “And that’s fine. Because those film and jet-set types who come to the stadium aren’t taking the seats away from the real fans. Who’s got the money to sit in the central stand? And even if they did have the money, they’d lack the desire. Those seats aren’t for fans,” says Danilo Bernasconi. He adds: “Hollywood VIPs are the bait that attracts investment. We locals know this all too well; it’s always been like this here.” On the shores of the lake stand the villas, but behind them lie the villages and the lives of the lake-side folk, which carry on as ever, with Lake Lario acting as a spectator – one that isn’t always noticed.