Andrea Pirlo had all the nicknames.
He was il maestro, the teacher. He was il arquitecto, the architect.
He wore them well. He played with the craft of the latter and the authority of the former. Pirlo was
stable and brilliant and unflappable. One of the most gifted passers of the modern era, he combined
guile and flair with a dependability that allowed the rhythm he set to rule the teams he played in.
And that makes him Il Metronomo, too: the metronome.
Pirlo’s identity came from more than just his playing personality.
From his scraggly, but somehow still perfect hair. From the immaculately groomed beard
that grew out in his late twenties and made him look like renaissance nobility.
And in his authoritative monotone which rarely betrayed any emotion.
Pirlo was both a study of cool and a visual proxy for his position. He was the regista. Even his
most famous goal – the last he would score for AC Milan, against Parma at il Tradini – was struck
with that familiar casual ease. Thirty-five yards out, maybe even forty, with barely any backlift
and a strike that sent the ball ripping towards goal, barely spinning on its axis.
But why the metronome?
Well, Pirlo’s languid style changed his career. Initially thought of as no.10 during his time
at Brescia and Inter Milan – the clean shaven days - he was considered too slow to command a
starting place that high up the pitch.. He would be sent out on loan by Inter,
back to Brescia and into the hands of the old veteran coach, Carlo Mazzone.
Mazzone would reinvent Pirlo, dropping him back to the base of midfield and starting a
journey which would take in six scudetti, two Champions Leagues and a World Cup.
That climb would continue at AC Milan, where Pirlo would conduct Carlo Ancelotti’s 5-man midfield.
Pirlo was always available to receive the ball, scanning all the angles and passing avenues
as he did, before releasing the ball, shifting the point of attack and pushing Milan forward.
Alongside him, Gennaro Gattuso growled and Massimo Ambrosini patrolled back and forth.
Higher up the pitch Clarence Seedorf became a wonderfully complete attacking midfielder
and Kaka even won a Ballon d’Or.
The gnarly Gattuso would be alongside Pirlo in 2006, too, as Italy won the World Cup. Pirlo
helped put the Italians in the final, too, with a reverse pass from heaven which opened the door
in extra-time for Fabio Grosso to broke Germany hearts in the semis. That was really a 4-4-1-1,
with Camoranesi and Perrota outwide and Totti and Toni up front.
No matter. Pirlo received the ball and he passed it again.
In 2011, he swapped Milan for Turin. Antonio Conte was returning to Juventus to reinstate
passing football and Pirlo would become the centre-piece of one of the great teams of
the decade, that would veer between systems but would end the Serie A season unbeaten.
Pirlo and Juve would win four consecutive scudetti.
Conte’s system would eventually settle in front of a back-three,
with Pirlo often the connecting piece between a trio of legendary centre-backs,
the raiding wing-backs, and Claudio Marchisio and Arturo Vidal in midfield, later a Paul Pogba.
And that’s really the way to look at his career. Pirlo was the beard, the ball-playing, the goals
and the free-kicks. He was also a statesman of the sport who exuded a very traditional sort
of charisma and whose name has become part of football’s lexicon, a byword for calm and class.
But more than anything, Andrea Pirlo was the beat that bound all of the
players he played with together. He was the one who kept time.
Il Metronomo.