Rome is at its finest this evening. At the Stadio dei Marmi, as nine o'clock approaches, the day's heat surrenders to the almost enchanted atmosphere of a summer night. The setting itself heightens the spell—white marble and towering statues stand luminous against the green of Monte Mario, which dissolves into a sky that remains clear and brilliant now, deepening from blue to black. Red carpeting covers the stadium's tiers, radiating pleasantly the warmth the marble has absorbed all day long.
Alongside the meticulous staging and abundance of resources, there is something else: a relaxed, serene mood. I'm grateful to be here tonight for the opening ceremony of the Special Olympics—a week of competition for athletes with intellectual disabilities, held each year in a different Italian city under the auspices of the organization bearing that name. This event represents the culmination of the year-round training that athletes undertake in their local clubs across the country. Nearly 1,500 competitors have come this year, along with countless family members, from almost every region in Italy. Settled into the stands now, we wait for the regional delegations to begin their procession.
A stage occupies the stadium's center, facing a large screen positioned toward the spectators' section. Between the stage and the bleachers, rows of chairs have been arranged where the athletes will sit and witness the official opening.
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The ceremony begins with greetings and thanks from the organizers. Civil authorities and champions from sports past and present take the microphone to voice their support for the athletes, their families, their coaches, the volunteers accompanying them, and the organizers. Gianni Rivera speaks with the same elegance he once showed on the field. Between speeches, music fills the stadium, making the atmosphere ever more festive.
The procession starts with dozens of volunteers marching past the stands, each waving a flag in synchronized rhythm. They take their positions as frames around the athletes' sections. Then come the regional delegations, emerging from an underpass as music accompanies them. The loudspeaker announces each group and the sports clubs they represent. Each delegation walks alongside a sports champion who serves as its "ambassador," lending his name and presence to the athletes from that region. Surrounded by their coaches and volunteers, the athletes approach the stands and pass before spectators who applaud without pause.
Can I capture what it feels like to watch from the bleachers—the joy, and at moments the tears that come? The athletes' faces are luminous and open as they pass, happy in the company of those who support them. Some walk alone, others hand in hand with their coaches, still others held gently by their companions—all of whom wear the same serene, radiant smile. What matters is the awareness shining from every face: they are at the center of this celebration. They are the stars of the week ahead, when Rome's finest sports facilities—the Stadio dei Marmi, the Olympic pool, the beautiful Ippodromo di Tor di Quinto, the Palazzetto dello Sport—will open their doors to them, and organizers and volunteers will dedicate themselves entirely to making the competition possible. The joy visible in their eyes is tangible and contagious, radiating from the track to the stands, touching the hearts of all who watch.
As the regional delegations finish their march, they settle into the designated sections before the stage. The procession concludes with the passing of three flags: Italian, Olympic, and Special Olympics. The focus shifts to the stage. The participating sports organizations present dance performances for athletes and spectators alike. On the screen behind, images flash of athletes straining in competition or relaxed and smiling at medal ceremonies. Between performances, more greetings from officials and dignitaries. Massimiliano Rosolino, Olympic gold medalist in swimming, speaks briefly and disarms everyone with his openness: in three days he departs for world championship training, he says, and he will carry with him the tremendous energy he has felt watching these Special Olympics athletes parade past.
But this is only the prelude to the true opening moment.
The Olympic flame must be lit. The oath must be sworn. Only then will the Games be officially opened. The announcer tells us that the torch bearers, who departed from the Colosseum, are now in sight of the Stadio dei Marmi. This is one of the most moving moments of the night. Escorted by four State Police motorcyclists—their blue lights flashing beside the runners' torches, adding magic to the magic of the evening—four sports champions come into view and, after circling the exterior, enter the stadium. They present the torch to the Games' chosen athlete, who carries it the remaining distance to the brazier. Standing upright before it, this athlete lights the Olympic flame to thunderous applause. Another athlete speaks the Games' oath in a strong, steady voice: "May I win, but if I cannot win, may I try with all my strength." The Games can now be officially opened. The moment the chosen official pronounces the opening words, the night sky ignites with long and brilliant fireworks.
The explosions paint the black sky with colored light that seems to rain down upon us, expressing the joy in every heart here. I have never experienced fireworks quite like this—as such a profound expression of celebration. I find myself wondering why. What is the secret of such joy? What is the source of this feast that unites all of us—organizers, volunteers, families, spectators—in one simple, unhurried atmosphere?
I think of the sports champions who accompanied the Special Olympics athletes during the procession, the champions who lit the Olympic flame for them. They seem to represent two worlds apart, destined never to meet. Yet tonight these champions—and through them all of humanity—bent down toward the athletes of Special Olympics, and when they stood again together, they found themselves lifted to a height they had never reached before.
All of us here have felt this joy, and the fireworks have spoken it aloud, illuminating the sky above this beautiful Roman summer night.
Francesco Bertolini, 2005