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"The voice of tennis for all of us, I still have the last farewell at Wimbledon in my mind." Paolo Bertolucci, who was his commentator partner for over twenty years, dedicated a heartfelt farewell to him on social media, recalling that July final as the last shared chapter of a very long career. (translated)

Elena Pero, the infinite talent in an ordinary person At 60, the voice of tennis for Sky suddenly went silent: in an era of frenzied and possessed commentators, Elena, very skilled and very nice, was a survivor of a time that no longer exists. I arrived at Mediaset, or rather at Fininvest's TV in October 1988; I was 34 years old. My office at Palazzo dei Cigni in Milanodue was adjacent to Rino Tommasi's, and shortly after, I saw Elena Pero arrive, whom Rino had chosen, out of a thousand, as his personal assistant and collaborator since she knew everything about tennis that the human mind could possibly know: and if Rino Tommasi said it, there’s nothing more to add. Elena was 22 years old, she was shy but always smiling, quiet but always witty whenever you had the chance to exchange a few words with her, perhaps at the coffee machine: she was extraordinarily intelligent, extraordinarily ironic (and self-ironic), extraordinarily likable. Like me, who had chosen to work behind the scenes, as a writer and program curator without appearing on video, Elena also appreciated the low profile: appearing was not what she desired, and this predisposition to discretion and reserve that united us made us somehow accomplices. Newsrooms, I believe I can say of any TV, are teeming - I say this with all possible respect - with overgrown children of 30, 40, and 50 years who have never grown up whose only reason for living - I mean everyday life - is to put, as the saying goes, their faces on television. Everything else doesn't matter. As someone once said: card and badge. After a while, Rino Tommasi moved to Sky, and Elena, who in the meantime had dated the most timid, quiet, and kind producer of Fininvest, Sergio Velli, naturally followed him. It was the early 90s, and everything Elena Pero would have thought of, except that one day she would become the voice of tennis for Sky upon the retirement of her mentor and great teacher, Rino Tommasi. To say how good Elena was as a commentator, and how she managed to remain herself in an era when commentators are required to be, first of all, shouty, frenzied, and obsessed, is superfluous. You could have asked Elena anything, but not to stop being the "normal person" that she had tenaciously and convincingly chosen to be, I believe, since she was a child. I cared for her especially for this. And now that she is no longer with us, as I embrace Sergio and Martina, who lost her too soon, I feel a subtle but strong sadness wash over me: not having ever told her that knowing her was a pleasure, a fun, and an honor for me. (translated)

"It is difficult to find words that can do justice to Elena Pero's immense passion and extraordinary professionalism. Next to her, I had the fortune of narrating the greatest tournaments in the world and the wonderful successes achieved by Italian tennis in recent years." In a message on Sky, Bertolucci remembered her this way: (translated)

The voice of Elena Pero was a familiar sound, one that is recognized instinctively. Like the way she would ring the doorbell of her boyfriend, or the noise of the shutter in the morning. Banale habits that ultimately become part of how we spend our days. Part of how we remember them. Elena's voice was a thousand afternoons, a thousand nights, and a few moving dawns. It was grass, cement, and earth. It was time zones and continents. Years, styles, changes. Always, she accepted the honor of telling victories and the burden of filling the silence of defeat. I smile, thinking of how many times we heard her exclaim "Ouch!" when something went wrong on the field. The utmost expression of disappointment, the blind fury of a stuffed toy. When, on the other hand, wonderful things happened in front of her, her tone became as bright as that of a little girl. It didn't matter who was accomplishing them, because it was clear as the sun that above individuals she loved tennis. Elena took with her the voice and a pinch of grace that was damnably needed in this world. Today it's up to us to fill the silence she left behind. Sorry, Elena, perhaps something will go wrong because we don't know how to do it. Ouch! (translated)

"On July 12, our last final. Hi Elena." Thus Paolo Bertolucci, a pillar of Italian tennis and Sky Sport commentator along with Elena Pero, gives a final salute to his colleague and authoritative voice of the racket, who died today after a sudden illness that had not prevented her from following the Wimbledon final won by Jannik Sinner. (translated)

I have difficulty finding the words. But I must find them because Elena Pero deserves all the affection and respect possible. She truly loved tennis, her work, with respect and measure. I was driving on A1 when I learned about it. A shiver, and the memory of free conversations. She will be missed by everyone. (translated)

One of the most important figures in Italian sports journalism has passed away. Elena Pero, commentator for Sky Sport Tennis, died at the age of 60. With her voice, she narrated the sport she loved for more than 35 years: from the wonders of the Big Three to the achievements of Jannik Sinner. The last time was at Wimbledon, just 2 months ago, where Elena Pero, alongside Paolo Bertolucci, was present, despite the illness that took her away. (translated)

Elena Pero, renowned journalist and commentator for Sky Sport, has passed away, an exemplary professional whose voice accompanied sports and tennis enthusiasts for years with competence, grace, and passion. Our condolences to her family and loved ones, and our thoughts are with her. Rest in peace, Elena. (translated)