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COMO, Italy — It is a typical evening on Lake Como. The final traces of sunlight filter through scattered clouds, casting light across the hills that stretch toward Switzerland. Seaplanes glide overhead, drifting like falling leaves before touching down softly on the water. The sunset bursts in pastel shades that dissolve into the lake—the kind of sunset made for proposals, and with the thousands of tourists strolling the shoreline, chances are someone, somewhere, got down on one knee.
For Como, a breathtaking evening like this is simply routine. Yet there was no question this was a remarkable night because, beside the seaplane hangar along the receding shoreline, European soccer had come to Lake Como. It's fair to say the Champions League has never been set against such stunning natural scenery.
If you want to talk about the extraordinary, consider this: Eight years ago, Como's modest soccer club, Como 1907, was languishing in Serie D, the amateur fourth tier of Italian football. In 2019, Indonesian billionaires purchased the club with ambitions of turning its story into a reality TV series. Within six years, the club had climbed back to Serie A after a 21-year absence. And in just their second season in Serie A, Como 1907 finished fourth to earn a Champions League berth. It all feels too good to be true—but that's simply life on Lake Como.
Yet despite all the splendor, Como 1907 made it abundantly clear they are not here for the spectacle alone—nor are they your average newcomers. Winning your Champions League debut is one thing, but putting four goals past two-time German Cup winners RB Leipzig is a declaration of intent.
"It was a historic night for the club, for all the supporters," Como 1907 manager Cesc Fàbregas said. "In 10, 20 years, people will ask, 'Where were you when we won that first [Champions League] match?' That is the beauty of soccer."
There was not a single Italian in Como's starting lineup, yet more than 10,000 packed the stands—making it one of the smallest crowds in Champions League history. Still, it didn't sound like a mere 10,000 when the club scored its first-ever Champions League goal in the 15th minute through Martin Baturina, who followed up his maiden World Cup goal for Croatia this summer by etching his name into Como's history books.
And it certainly didn't feel like only 10,000 when Como's ultras serenaded the players at the final whistle, rattling their brand-new supporters' stand. It is in that freshly poured concrete where the most remarkable achievement truly resides.
Como's meteoric rise to the Champions League presented a luxury problem: the club had reached the summit of club soccer almost too soon, with the Giuseppe Sinigaglia Stadium falling short of Champions League requirements. Between the end of the Serie A season in May and the Champions League opener in September, the club had to install additional security and safety measures, expand media facilities, widen the pitch and—most critically—tear down the entire supporters' stand, which was a metal tubular structure (the type typically seen at high school football games), and replace it with a permanent concrete tribune.
Completing all of that in under four months would be a tall order anywhere in the world; pulling it off in Italy—a country notorious for its stifling bureaucracy and a culture that takes two to three business months of summer holiday—borders on miraculous. Someone alert Pope Leo XIV and get this project manager sainted.
The day of Como 1907's @ChampionsLeague debut has finally arrived 💙 pic.twitter.com/4WnYUrNFgi
Como wrapped up the project with a week to spare, so rather than hosting their Champions League debut at Sassuolo's Mapei Stadium—a two-hour drive away—fans of the biancoblu spent their afternoon swimming, sipping lakeside Aperol spritzes and fishing near the stadium before kickoff.
On the pitch, things continue to flow beautifully for Como—and much of the credit belongs to a Spanish coach reshaping the possibilities of Italian soccer. Having made 104 Champions League appearances as a player for Arsenal, Barcelona and Chelsea, Fàbregas is no stranger to big European nights. But a 4–1 victory in his managerial debut will elevate him from the most fashionable coach in the game to one of the most sought-after.
Fàbregas has brought the grandest stage in European soccer to Europe's most coveted destination by dismantling Italy's outdated soccer traditions, trading defensive rigidity for all-out attack, fluid passing and a commitment to entertainment. His Como journey began as a player in Serie B, when he was also offered ownership stakes in the club; he now commands the city through his infectious passion and tireless work ethic that has won over supporters of every generation.
The reality is that Como fully intend to entertain—or go down swinging. Club president Mirwan Surwaso has committed to modeling the organization on the Disney blueprint: merchandising, mass tourism, global branding and social media reach. They are exploring a move away from Adidas after this season to produce their own jerseys in-house. They already brew their own beer and sell it throughout the stadium at affordable prices. In the coming years, they plan to redevelop the stadium into a community hub featuring medical offices, recreational facilities and year-round hospitality. A soccer Disneyland on Lake Como is Surwaso's vision—but it was his most recent gesture that spoke the loudest.
With ticket demand at an all-time high for a limited-capacity venue, Suwarso announced that he and several members of Como's leadership would surrender their seats in the directors' box—where A-list celebrities typically sit—to the club's longest-serving supporters.
"We want those seats to go to supporters who have waited the longest—fans born in 1950 or earlier, who have followed Como through every division and every era," Suwarso said in a statement. "We will be honored to give up our seat for them."
One of those fans was 90-year-old Mario Pozzetti, who made his way into the main stand with a cane and a club official by his side. It has been so long that Pozzetti can no longer recall the year he first became a Como season-ticket holder. "More than 40 years, but less than 50," he says. As Pozzetti gazed up into the stadium lights while the Champions League anthem rang out, his face lit up.
"What an immense joy," Pozzetti says. "Five years ago we were in Serie C. To arrive in the Champions League … I never could have imagined it."
But then a note of sadness crept in. He hasn't attended a match in quite some time, and he nearly skipped tonight's game because he was reluctant to leave his wife, who is paralyzed and confined to bed rest. Pozzetti says he had to "call the whole world" to find someone to look after her on matchday.
"I think this is the last time I'll come to this stadium," he says. "No doubt."
If it truly is the last time, it was certainly something special. But what about when Manchester United sails into Lake Como's waters next month?
"Hmm, Manchester United?" he asks with a grin. "We'll see."
Welcome to Lake Como, where the ordinary is so very often anything but.