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Monday, July 12, 2010

Fiesta at last: A Spanish fan's diary

esus wins the World Cup

Oranjes beaten to pulp

A double for the Armada


Prospective newspaper headlines, complete with cliched puns, were already flashing in my head as Sergio Ramos missed, David Villa missed, Iker Casillas saved and Jesus Navas missed.

Watching a bunch of bald men put their pates and soles to good use, both on the ball and the anatomy of the Armada, I was also haunted by phrases like 'flatter to deceive', 'choke at the last hurdle' and 'always the bridesmaid'.

I've hooted and cried with Spain since the late 1990s. I've waited through three World Cups, watched heroes retire and wondered if one of them would ever hold that hideously ugly trophy.

For me, every World Cup since 1998 has begun with my fingers crossed for Argentina and ended with my hands folded for Spain.

This time round, I was torn. My love for Argentina began with my love for the game – their opening match against Greece in 1994, in which Gabriel Batistuta scored the first of his two World Cup hat tricks, was also the first sporting encounter I found more interesting than my Barbies.

Since then, Batistuta has retired, and Messi has taken over his shirt. Hernan Crespo and Javier Saviola, living under the shadows of their Number 10s, retired before becoming what they could have been.

Since then, Spain has produced Raul, Casillas, Joaquin, Torres and Villa. Hierro has retired, and others have been relegated to the wilderness, while a host of young sensations have proved to be match-winners.

It's hard for a fan of the Spanish national football team to explain just what it feels like to see his or her team finally win – if someone had told me four years ago that Spain would be Euro and World Champions simultaneously, I would've sighed and wished I could believe it.

I remember every painful moment of the 2002 quarterfinal encounter against South Korea.

Spain had a mix of youth and experience at the time, and was perhaps the one team with solid, hardworking players who performed as a team (though they did have a star in Raul.)

They were touted to march into the final, and who knew what could happen then?

But the quarterfinal was a disaster. They scored twice, and both goals were disallowed. A penalty was blocked after the South Korean goalkeeper left his post prematurely, but wasn't noticed doing so. A Golden Goal was cancelled after a dubious offside call. The match ended in tears for Spain and their fans.

When they pushed their way into the final of the Euro 2008, everyone thought they knew what would happen. Germany has been known to hold its nerves. Spain, to find two left feet at the final gallop.

However, this time, it was different. Spain held fast, and lifted the Euro trophy for the first time since 1964. In July that year, they became the first team to reach the top of the FIFA rankings without ever winning a World Cup.

Could this team, with its young stars, make it in South Africa? No one spoke about them going in. The focus, as always, was on Brazil and Argentina – no, make that Brazil and Maradona.

But their goal-scoring defender and goal-saving captain saw the Armada into the final.

Watching the misses, we thought the curse was back – the players who would have netted the ball in any other game, at any other time, were hitting the post, the side-netting, the extended limbs of the opposition, anywhere but the target.

Just as everyone was ready for penalties, the most deserving of the Spanish players wrote his name into the annals of World Cup history. Andres Iniesta, who had set up most of Spain's goals and chances, finally put one in himself.

Three members of the team were part of the promising pool of 2002 – Xavi Hernandez, Carlos Puyol and Iker Casillas.

That was why you saw Xavi signal to Sepp Blatter to come on fast and hand over the trophy.

That was why Puyol could jump higher than Van Persie, who's about a foot taller.

That was why Casillas cried so much he had to pass the trophy to Iniesta within a few seconds of getting his hands on it.

At last, the deception is over. Paul the Octopus can play the oracle all it wants, but what matters to the fans of Spain is that La Furia Roja has been vindicated.

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