Our touring, touting squad had dwindled down to five but the prospect of two Clasico’s in the same season was too good to resist.
Again we set up base in a cheap hostel. A beautifully warm weekend in the Spanish capital, a city I enjoyed more than its Catalan rival, an unpopular opinion by all accounts. I found it cleaner, easier to get around and more pleasing on the eye. Maybe it was the sunshine, maybe I’m biased because I met my wife that weekend.
Again, we spent the day before the game doing the stadium tour and general sight seeing. The Santiago Bernabeau is simply majestic, there’s not much more you can say about it. The tour is breathtaking also. They start by taking you up to the top of the stadium in a lift so your first view is looking down in awe. Access to the dressing rooms is again provided and this time there is a chance to sit in the dugouts/luxury subs chairs and a walk along the perimeter of the pitch.
Unlike the Nou Camp on the eve of the game, we couldn’t find any touts milling around outside but decided we had a full day and a half so we headed back into the city to regroup. That night we rather predictably as a group of Englishman with no class, found ourselves in an Irish pub. The next day we set up base in a different pub, predictably watched Premier League lunchtime football, Charlton Athletic vs someone if I remember. One of our group was a keen gambler, let’s just call him Geoff for the sake of anonymity, and he took our orders for first goalscorer etc. As time passed on we were starting to wonder where and even if, we would find tickets. The season was at its business end and both Real and Barca were battling it out for La Liga. Tickets would be harder and more expensive. It was decided that me and Matt, (Roy Turtle) as the most experienced of touters, should head down to the Bernabeau and survey the scene. Each of the others handed us large amounts of cash and gave us their blessing to deliver the goods. The fact that neither of us spoke a word of Spanish was apparently a worry to no one. We took the metro and wandered around the stadium for a while before being beckoned over by what can only be described, in hindsight, as a ticket rapist. After a brief conversation in which nobody understood anything, other than the gesture of five fingers and the international smell of desperation, we handed a complete stranger from a foreign land, €1,000 in exchange for five tickets.
As we made our way back on the metro I remember being relieved, excited, anxious, nervous and worried about my bank account at the same time. It was then that one of us noticed the words “non valida” on the tickets. We looked at each other and agreed it was a safe bet that it meant “not valid” but there were still other words after it and we needed to get those translated as soon as possible.
We went back to the hostel and asked the nice English speaking senorita behind the desk. She said it meant “not valid without a membership card”. This was concerning. At this point there wasn’t anything we could do about it. We had parted with a large amount of money and just had to hope for the best.
There was definitely a nervousness in the air as we approached the stadium that night. I can’t recall too much of what happened next but I remember a lot of people pushing and shoving to get in, a gate opening and tickets were barely glanced at by staff. We gleefully strode up to the upper echelons of one of the worlds greatest arenas and for the second time that season, saw the away team triumph on enemy soil. As the number of traveling fans is scarce at these games, are we possibly some of the only people other than journalists to have witnessed such a feat?
After a scoreless first half, the second half stared with a bang. We witnessed a rasping free kick from Roberto Carlos from at least 35 yards that had to be tipped over the bar. Victor Valdes was called upon again a few minutes later producing a world class save but soon afterwards, he couldn’t do anything about Santi Solari putting Madrid 1-0 up. A few minutes after that, Patrick Kluivert tapped in a headed equaliser. The rest of the half was tense. Ronaldinho was magnificent, constantly testing the hosts defence. In the 85th minute he executed an outrageous lobbed pass to Xavi who volleyed it over Casillas for the winner.
Similar to the Nou Camp, the atmosphere that night started boisterous but was dampened throughout due to the scoreline and visitors controlling much of the game but the overall experience was magnificent. We had climbed the peaks of European football and pondered if there was anything left to achieve. I can now say with certainty, 16 years on, that there is much to.
That night, fate took control of my life. As we walked back towards our hostel, we passed the same Irish pub we had been to the night before. I encouraged us to go back in. One of group, let’s just call him Geoff again, decided he was too tired and wanted to head back to get some sleep. The rest of us went in. We noticed a group of attractive young women and as you do at that age, rather than approach them, we stood around staring at them and choosing our personal favorite. My mate Phil, a big Basketball fan, somewhat rare in England, wandered over to a big screen and watched a Lakers vs Pistons play off game. He got chatting to one of the girls from the attractive group, a big Lakers fan from California. After a while we all mingled together and they invited us to a club, cheesily named “Dreams”. There’s a lot more to this part of the story but that California girl became my wife less than three years later. It was only right that a weekend following my biggest passion would result in the rest of my life changing forever. Just imagine if we had all followed Geoff.
Line ups;
Real Madrid
Casillas, Salgado, Roberto Carlos, Helguera, Bravo, Beckham, Zidane (Guti), Figo, Solari (Nunez), Cambiasso, Raul. Unused subs: Cesar, Borja, Mejia, Juanfran, Portillo. Coach: Queiroz.
Barcelona
Valdes, Reiziger, Van Bronckhurst, Puyol (Motta), Oleguer, Overmars (Martinez), Cocu, Davids, Xavi, Ronaldinho, Saviola (Kluivert).
Goals: Solari (54), Kluivert (58), Xavi (86).
Red card: Figo (69).
Attendance: 78,000
Second half highlights: https://youtu.be/3YIpOyEUtyc
Comments