Still dream

Looking out the window as the wind swayed the grass. The sky, dark, constantly dropped their drops on the green lawn that came home on the outskirts of Santander. His friends were in the shelter of the roof and heat their homes, but he barely had eleven or twelve years, holding the ball with his hands waiting for a glimpse of time to give him permission to go out and play with his indefatigable colleague eaten something and leather for their avatars. That old wooden goal waiting for the occasion.

Times were novel in Spanish football: a team called Deportivo de la Coruna, which had barely heard of before, was the great standard you and fought with them over the top. Knew that their origin was modest and had recently been part of the second division, but for him, beginning to see more interest to your idols on TV and-white squad that seemed like a big plus, and that impression would be recorded.

Why not, he thought, every so often a team would do the right thing and be elected to the elite. I dreamed that one day, close, rubbing his turn to Racing Santander and the team will equate to Real Madrid, Barcelona, ​​Valencia, Atletico Madrid and, of course, Deportivo. Saw Bebeto, Mauro Silva and Fran face and white giants Barca, and imagine a future where green and white shirts also come to be equated with them.

I had it all figured out: As the Superdépor, Racing also have a nickname that would realize such a feat. Instead of Bebeto, fantasized about the idea that some quirk of fate placed at Roberto Baggio, idol then, at the head Racing from that which triumphed at the stadium of his imagination. And like any self-respecting big, the Cantabrian team would have its own summer tournament, to be called Trofeo Ciudad de Santander, and he would come every August a European giant to measure forces with the mighty Racing. The first would be Milan's Fabio Capello.

The sky decided to sit a moment to rest and let the water falling from his dark coat cotton. At that time saw the perfect opportunity to go for a few touches on the ball. His mind represented the scene in which form part of a Racing Champion while kicking the ball towards the goal of wood. The grass, wet, ease your way as the sky seemed to warn of the closeness of another storm. His thirst for football had drunk from the time when the rain allowed to leave the pitch.

She began to rain hard while strong and deflected shot, while lost in the adjoining meadow, where the grass was very high. The night had begun to beat up the game, the old ball is not sticking out the light and heavy rain did not allow much time to stand with their drops. He had to return home without the ball with which he had dreamed of a great future for his team. That moment was lost in time, but remains in memory, as those years in the Sports Complex tute without the usual large . Today, after seventeen seasons, the Galician team has dropped to the second division , and with it, some of those years where it seemed that in football anything could happen.

Perhaps children starting or have started to watch football in recent years to see Villarreal and Sevilla as that child saw when Deportivo: as a big plus regardless of their previous history, but a present where the biggest fight. They find it hard to imagine a first division without Villarreal and Sevilla, as a child that would seem outrageous to see the Galician club second. In any case, was that Arsenio Iglesias team that stood up to the two major league club that years later consummated the feat under the command of Irureta.

Today, over the years, that boy who played on grass not see sports as a big plus, but as an example of overcoming where little can beat the big one, the very essence of a sport that has lost much of its reason for being in pursuit of becoming a spectacle for the masses. A movie where the protagonists are increasingly more players and secondary side, with little opportunity to steal a sceneto the stars. A circus where the ball has lost weight in the debate and is just one more in the role.

The next day came back out into the street. The clouds had already fulfilled its mission and the sun was accompanied by an unqualified blue. Its rays illuminated the green and into the grass nearby, whose height reached her waist. After a few minutes searching, he finally appeared old and worn leather ball. Do not think of any reason I could not spend time playing football. Everything began again.

Photo | JC i Núria