Another slice of Italian history has gone with the passing of the legendary Bruno Pizzul.

Pizzul joined RAI, Italy’s state broadcaster, in 1969 and eventually graduated to become their lead commentator for Italy games from 1986. 

His voice has now become synonymous to a certain generation of Italians with the Azzurri, with Pizzul covering Italy from the Mexico ’86 World Cup up to Japan and South Korea in 2002, and every national team game in between.

He also covered European club games RAI would show on the network, primarily in the 1980s and 1990s when Italian sides dominated all European competitions.

Pizzul’s tenure coincided with the Azzurri living through moments of ecstasy and suffering, from the finals of USA ’94 and Euro 2000 to the crushing semi-final defeat to Argentina on home turf at Italia ’90.

Pizzul had the ability to say a lot without the need for words, a rare skill in itself. He would let silence punctuate the air during difficult moments. 

As a commentator, Pizzul never overdid it and never made the moment about himself. Even when Roberto Baggio rescued Arrigo Sacchi’s underperforming side in the dying minutes against Nigeria in June 1994, Pizzul was euphoric, but contained.

Such was the affection for Pizzul that he came out of retirement in 2021, briefly. In a piazza in Gorizia, a small town close to the Slovenian border, someone handed him a microphone to commentate on the final few minutes of Italy’s win against England at Euro 2020, to the delight of the crowd.

Aged 86, Pizzul was a titan of Italian commentary and will arguably never be bettered. 

Here, Destination Calcio recount his finest calls.

Emmet Gates – Roberto Baggio vs Poland, France ’98 Qualifier, April 1997

Did anyone say ‘Roberto Baggio’ better than Pizzul? Ask any Italian who watched Baggio play for the Azzurri and they’ll match Pizzul’s voice to the visual of Baggio effortlessly gliding past players and scoring wonder goals.

The two have, in a way, become intertwined. Baggio’s peak coincided with Pizzul’s as a commentator. Il Divin Codino’s moments of genius narrated by Pizzul’s own.

There have been better Pizzul calls for Baggio moments (see anything from Baggio at USA ’94 or his iconic goal against Czechoslovakia at Italia ’90), but the one I’ve plumped for is a Baggio goal against Poland from April ’97. The reason being this was a big moment for a player experiencing the darkest days of his career.

Unloved at club level with AC Milan and forced to work with Sacchi again, Baggio was handed an unexpected call-up by Italy boss Cesare Maldini for the World Cup qualifier with Poland due to a spate of injuries to regulars.

Baggio hadn’t worn Azzurri since September 1995 and had been kept in purgatory by an increasingly unhinged Sacchi in his final 15 months in charge of the national side.

Maldini, who replaced Sacchi in December 1996, was willing to give him a chance, however. Baggio wasn’t in the starting line up, but he would make his presence felt.

Gianfranco Zola was forced to come off with an injury in the 51st minute, and at the then-Stadio San Paolo in Naples, Baggio was brought on to a thunderous round of applause.

He’d only been on the pitch 11 minutes and then came the moment. (We’ve cued it up for you).

Dino Baggio floated a perfect ball over the top of the Polish defence for his namesake. Roberto ghosted in behind and latched on to the ball at the periphery of the penalty area. 

Now faced with the onrushing Poland goalkeeper Andrzej Wozniak and two defenders just behind, Baggio shuffled the ball from left to right, threw a shimmy, and gently placed the ball into the empty goal.

“Portiere lo salta, tiro, gol. Grandissimo gol….grandissimo gollllll di Roberto Baggio….strepitoso,” bellowed an exciting Pizzul on commentary. (He skips past the goalkeeper, shoots, goal. Great goal….great goal by Roberto Baggio. Marvellous).

Pizzul was always animated when Italy scored, but you get the sense this goal meant a little more to him, considering what Baggio had given to his country and then unfairly banished following USA ’94. Pizzul rose to the occasion, sprinkling a dash of stardust to what was a feel-good moment.

It was Baggio’s first goal for Italy since the semi-final against Bulgaria in July 1994, nearly three years, and Pizzul perfectly captured the moment. The pair in sync once more.

It was no surprise that Baggio posted a tribute to Pizzul on Instagram following the news of his death, for no one said his name better.

David Ferrini: Dino Baggio vs Spain, USA ’94 FIFA World Cup

He was known as “The Gentle Voice of Football” (La Voce Gentile del Calcio). Since the news of his passing today, fans and pundits have expressed their sentiments across social media and dozens of broadcasting networks.

There is no disputing that Bruno Pizzul’s voice will always have a special place in every Italian football fan’s heart.

Pizzul was also known for his no-nonsense approach to commentary, never exaggerating mediocrity like most modern-day broadcasters do to keep viewers engaged. Whenever he raised his voice, it was genuine admiration.

In a football context, the Italian word “Grandissimo” translates as “great,” but when Pizzul used it to describe a goal, it meant he was utterly amazed by the sheer genius of the goalscorer, akin to Martin Tyler’s “My Word.”

Grandissimo was usually reserved for Roberto Baggio, or “Roberto” as Bruno intimately called him now and again.

From the thousands of goals he called during his circa 40-year commentary career, nothing lit Pizzul’s inner fire like the Nazionale. He loved the Azzurri dearly, and whenever Italy played a match, you only wanted his voice to accompany the noise of the fans inside the stadium.

On a personal level, growing up in Australia, I could enjoy Pizzul courtesy of RAI International’s subscription service. As a kid, I would watch calcio on Italian television in the early hours alongside my father and even Nonna Maria would tune in.

For Italians abroad, these were magical moments that made us feel like we were still a part of it all.

Dino Baggio’s long-range missile against Spain at USA ’94 is an occasion I remember well. And the raw emotion conveyed by Pizzul is as unforgettable as the goal itself.

“Donadoni, prolunga il duello fra due, e poi inserimento per Dino Baggio che puo andare, parte il suo tiro, e che gol. Grandissimo gol di Dino Baggio.”

“Donadoni, prolongs the duel between he and his man, and then pass inserted for Dino Baggio, who can go, takes his shot, and what a goal. Great goal by Dino Baggio.”

As Donadoni passes towards Baggio, Pizzul’s voice accelerates from calmness to delirium as the ball leaves the boot. There’s a moment of incredulity once the net is hit. It’s a crescendo of raw emotion – exactly as commentary should be.

Things of beauty are simplistic and organic, just like Pizzul’s way with words. Condolences to his family, including grandson Dario, on his passing just a few short days before his 87th birthday.

The gentle voice of football will never be forgotten. We can only hope his passing means more ears and eyes will hear the dulcet tones of Bruno Pizzul.