VERONA, Italy — The world of sports is all too familiar with the Greek myth of Icarus.
After all, what more apt metaphor is there for daunting and daring athletic feats than a man who pushes the limits of his existence, flies too close to the sun and crashes out of the sky in all his glory and pride.
But as much as we try to distance ourselves from cliché in search of a fresh thought, the ancient texts are the ancient texts for a reason. Specific enough to pull upon the human heartstrings, universal enough to capture the attention of all regardless of language, culture and creed. Cliché, sure, but for a reason.
We try to avoid it, and yet there was Icarus in Cortina, wings melted in the snow, 41 years old and trying to defy human limits on skis before a helicopter ferries her away. And there was Icarus again in Milan, sprawled across the ice, a Quad God jettisoned from the Mount Olympus of his sport, looking at his skates with the shock of betrayal in his eyes and “Et tu, Brute?” in his heart.
These were the Games of Icarus, and what better way to conclude them than in the most ancient way possible: under a starry sky in an ancient amphitheater.
Paris 2024 may have had the most memorable opening ceremony ever with its spectacle à la Seine, but there is no doubt Milan Cortina 2026 featured the most beautiful Olympic closing ceremony venue in history.
Built in the first half of the first century, the Arena di Verona is older and better kept than the near-identical Roman Colosseum. For centuries, the seating arrangement has remained the same: slabs of pink limestone that serve as stairs just as much as seats. It has hosted gladiators, emperors and orchestras. And on Sunday, it hosted Olympians.
Nearly 2,000 years old, the Arena di Verona hosted the closing ceremony of the 2026 Winter Olympics. | Joosep Martinson/Getty Images
Carved into its walls within the Arena are inscriptions to and from its most prized champions, a Pro Gladiator Hall of Fame of sorts. One such inscription chronicles a gladiator named Glauco, who warns not to put more faith in the gods of fate than your own skill. Spoken like a true competitor, Glauco was so beloved for his feats with his weapon of choice (a trident) that his loyal supporters pooled their precious gold to build the tomb for his inevitable downfall—an experience that most college football fans can surely relate to.
After time, gladiator duels fell out of fashion due to their brutality. In their place, anyone who found themselves in an endless dispute with a neighbor or co-worker or friend-turned-enemy would hire professional fighters to battle in the Arena to legally determine which party would win the argument—no matter how small the matter. (Let’s remember this when the Automated Ball-Strike System takes effect in MLB this season).
While the word gladiator is also overused in the world of sports, there was courage and resolve aplenty at these Winter Games. How else can we define the credo of Ukraine’s Vladyslav Heraskevych, who gave up his Olympic dream to honor the memory of friends and fellow athletes killed in the war with Russia? Or the power of motherhood as Elana Meyers Taylor and Francesca Lollobrigida soared to heights they’ve never reached before, earning the first gold medals of their storied careers after becoming mothers.
In true Italian fashion, opera was the heart of the closing ceremony. La Traviata and Madame Butterfly, a stunning reinterpretation of “La Marseillaise” sung by a mezzo-soprano to usher in the 2030 French Alps Olympics. Since the early 1900s, the Arena di Verona has hosted opera festivals nearly every summer. There is nothing like seeing Aida in a gladiator arena, where you feel a connection to every generation of people that has passed through these hallowed gates.
Opera was the main form of entertainment at the closing ceremony. | Image Photo Agency/Getty Images
The fact that Andrea Bocelli didn’t return to sing “Time to Say Goodbye/Con Te Partirò” at the closing ceremony may be the second biggest letdown in the history of the Arena di Verona. In one of the first records of the Arena from nearly 2,000 years ago, the great Roman intellectual Pliny the Younger lamented the missing piece of gladiatorial hunting games he had witnessed in the Arena.
“I am sorry the African panthers you had bought in such quantities did not turn up on the appointed day.”
In that same letter, Pliny praises his friend for the games that were organized to honor the memory of his wife: “It was fitting to dedicate some public work or spectacle to her memory—and what better than a spectacle, the most appropriate tribute for a funeral?”
More farewell than funeral, the Milan Cortina closing ceremony drew the curtain on a Winter Games that captivated the hearts and minds of the world, reminding us that what we love about Italy will continue to persist through the way we celebrate its culture.
If these truly are the Games of Icarus, then we must remember that before the fall, there was flight. Before a farewell, there was a spectacle to behold. Indeed, what better way than a spectacle, the most appropriate tribute for a farewell. Bravo, Italia. Bravo.
More Winter Olympics on Sports Illustrated
