Barca Futbol

Well, it's official. The rigorous life of a "professional" athlete has become too much for Paul to keep up with the blog by himself. Who knew that three practices a week could be so demanding? But since he doesn't want to disappoint his 32 followers or the Pullitzer judges which have no doubt kept a keen eye on his Tres Pioners Blog, he has enlisted the help of Andrew and myself. To reduce Paul's overwhelming workload, I will write about our first Barca soccer game and A-Rob wrote about our trip to Sevilla (blogging virtuoso Paul Rice is off this week).

Last week we got discounted Barca soccer tickets through a Barca basketball player, whose wife works with our coach. Coincidently, the three of us watched a Barca basketball game a couple nights before and decided that the Barca basketball jersey we wanted the most was that of Boniface Ndong, the same player who gave us the tickets. Apparently, we might even get to meet our Barca basketball player idol when we go to a Barca basketball game. Move over Ricky Rubio, Boniface Ndong is Barca basketball's next American sensation.

On Saturday, we played the Madrid Osos with their import center from Georgia Tech and journeyman American quarterback whose gut gave off the impression that he has been enjoying donors, paella, and cerveza even more than we have. Fortunately, we started the game off with a bang. On the first play, Paul demolished the running back, the ball popped out, and Willy, our free safety and captain, recovered it and returned it for a touchdown. The running back had to be carried off the field. Despite a few blown coverages by yours truly, the rest of the game followed a similar pattern and we ended up winning in a rout.

The next day, Paul and I went with our coach and two of our teammates, Stephane and Ivan, to one of our favorite local bars to pre-game the raucous environment of a Barca soccer game. Andrew had drank too much water and had to come meet us later. No, seriously. He drank too much water and got a stomach ache.

We were all excited for the game because Barca was on a bit of a slump over the last two games. In its last two games, Barca had tied a team in La Liga and then lost to Arsenal in the Champions League. This was quite atypical for such a talented club had caused Barca to fall from number 1 to number 2 in ESPN's rankings of best clubs in the world. Needless to say, they needed a win.

We were eager to get to the game on time and soon joined the throngs of Barca supporters filing into Camp Nou. Unfortunately, we were climbing the stairs to our seats when we heard the crowd go wild. David Villa, a striker for Barcelona, had opened up the game with a goal in the third minute. Our seats were behind one of the goals and near the top of the stadium, but that didn't matter because we were right in the middle of nearly 90,000 screaming Barca fans.

That night Barca was playing Atletico Bilbao, which is a team from the Basque region of Spain. Spain has very strong regional separatist movements. Catalunya and the Basque region are home to two of the strongest. Both have their own languages, traditions, and histories as unique nations. The Basque have long desired for their own country and have even resorted to terrorism to try to achieve it. About half of all Catalonians also want to be a separate country and in some ways, the Barcelona Football Club is an embodiment of that. The club is not owned by individuals, but by all the season ticket holders. They feel the team is a symbol of their Catalunyan pride, their independence, and their superiority to the other regions (especially Madrid). These ideas (and the overwhelming talent of the team) produce a city overflowing with fanatical zeal for their club. Accordingly, the seats of Camp Nou are painted to say with a Catalan phrase that means "More than a club." While I am not sure if Atletico Bilbao is the same way, we sat next to the Bilbao fans who had to be caged into their section. Whether it was for our benefit or theirs, I am not sure.

The game was phenomenal. After Barca took the early lead, Atletico Bilbao came back to tie it just before halftime. They scored on a penalty kick that the British guys sitting behind us described as "utter bollocks" (they also made other hilarious observations, but they might be a little too racy for this forum). While Barca created many chances in the second half, they couldn't find the back of the net until Lionel Messi proved once again how talented he is. The goal was an amazingly quick strike during what appeared to be a routine Barca play.

There were a few differences between American sporting games and the Barca game. First, they can no longer sell alcohol at games because, when drunk, European soccer hooligans get even more rowdy than Oakland Raiders fans. Second, they run out of hot dogs (When the vendor told Paul they were out, a look of utter disbelief came to his face that didn't leave for a full ten minutes). But the whole event was an unforgettable experience and we can't wait until we get to go back to another Barca game. Since coming to Spain, our enthusiasm for soccer has been steadily growing and was thrilling to be amongst so many other fans with such unbridled passion for their team. We now understand their motto of "more than a club."