by Oliver Benet
Unwilling to deceive anyone, I must say the town made no sense, scattered apartment blocks, dirt everywhere and natives looking at us with disgust, while we were getting out of the train station.
We headed towards the old part of town, the only area that gave a little dignity to that fucking place.
It was still early, maybe too early to start drinking, although the younger ones in the group, unable to restrain themselves, stopped at a pitiful bar to swig the first gin and tonic just at 8:17 am.
As for the rest of us – the older ones – we went to a typical cafeteria in the center, to compulsively consume local sweets accompanied by liters of coffee, as we had woken up at the crack of dawn.
Some of our companions, already there from the day before, had “studied” thoroughly to which bars they would take us. Meanwhile, we wandered around in a freezing cold, visiting the few monuments which constantly reminded us that we were not in our land.
Finally, all together … the “gin and tonics” boys too, we started a wonderful route of bars and wineries and when we looked closely, we began to see all the grace of that city of shit. Those fucking people knew how to eat well.
The tapas were dancing to the rhythm of the beers, tripe, liver with onion, squid, … we were crossing paths with rival fans, who, seeing the good atmosphere that we had created, were united to us in a healthy tuning of noble rivalry. They, the rivals, were the ones who led us to a typical restaurant in the area. Really, these pre-match moments are the best, laughing, eating, singing, drinking ….
As far as the match is concerned … what can I tell you, our team suffered a puncture, but we didn’t care, once again we demonstrated that we are the best fans in the category, in terms of animation and behavior.
What was originally a foreign city, became a city where we made many friends.
And that’s exactly what we love about sports, dear readers.
*Oliver Benet is a Catalan cook and writer of the book “Per què odiava en Ferran Adrià?”