The fact that we don’t choose the team we support, but rather that it chooses us through parental inheritance, cultural necessity or geographical destiny, cannot obscure the equally truthful observation that we sometimes wish we did support another club. Our own team is likeable by default, and we are as blind to its faults as doting parents to unruly children. We might complain about and recognise their misdemeanours, but our love is unconditional. As such, supporters of one club can never share in other fans’ emotional relationships to their particular football teams, in the same way that you might find other adults’ children (or partners) distinctly unlovable.
To the famous question ‘What does she see in him?’ we might say the same about supporters of Atlético Madrid or Leeds United, to cite two of the most unloved European clubs of the past forty years.
This weekend, however, with titles and relegations beginning to take shape across Europe, I’ve read the phrase ‘Really don’t want them to go down’ or ‘Really happy for…’ quite a few times on Twitter, as if the great humanising effect of Leicester’s English title is beginning to make people question their own emotional blinkers. Not only does everyone now love Leicester (apart from Tottenham supporters, and possibly their Midland neighbours in Nottingham and Derby) but fans in Europe are also looking at themselves and their clubs and their leagues and pondering on the inadequacies of the old system, designed to shore up the income and success of a dubiously chosen few.
In France, PSG walked pointlessly to the title. In Italy Juventus won it for the fifth season in succession (as did Celtic in Scotland) and in Spain, although we won’t know the identity of the winner until the final day, it comes as no surprise to announce that it will be either Barcelona or Real Madrid. Leicester’s wholly unexpected victory means that leagues far and wide are now thinking ‘Why can’t we have some of that?’ from a purely competitive perspective.
But there’s a further twist to the tale. It’s been said – and I agree wholeheartedly – that a part of the success of the English Premier this season has been that the two most ‘likeable’ clubs (with likeable managers), Leicester and Tottenham, have been the most successful. I’ve just come home from watching Real Sociedad v Rayo Vallecano, a game that ended in a 2-1 win for the home side, but although the hosts are my culturally and geographically inherited team (Grimsby are the team I grew up with), I desperately wanted Rayo to win. Nobody in Spain dislikes them, which is saying something.
They brought 19 free busloads of supporters on Sunday morning from Madrid, all paid for by the club who don’t have a euro to rub together. Others made the five-hour drive by car. They caused no trouble, mingled with the Sociedad fans before and after the game, and in the final ten minutes, with Sociedad safe, the home supporters were cheering Rayo on, encouraging them to score and whistling at their own players for being too strictly professional. Rayo’s inability to score, against ten men and the encouragement of the entire stadium, was actually rather saddening. They’re not down yet, but it’s looking tricky for them, even though they’re at home to relegated Levante next week.
People are fond of Rayo because they’re fun, because of their Robin Hood-like socialist ideals and because they represent an identifiable local community. Eibar are similarly popular, although their story is a different one. Eibar (population 27,000) are no Leicester (population 330,000), but their continued presence in the top flight lends some sense to the whole venture, despite the best attempts of La Liga’s barons to keep them away from the party, two summers ago. People like them.
All or nothing in the CL for Atletico after the loss today. Should make for an entertaining season finale for Simeone.
— Cristian Nyari (@CrisNyari) May 8, 2016
People used to not like Atlético Madrid, but something has changed since the arrival of Diego Simeone, although he was feared and despised as a player. The Atlético team that he led to the double in 1996 were as subtle as an air-raid and about as popular. For most of their history Atlético have made a virtue of being disliked, the bad boys on the urban margins, rough edged and spiky to Real Madrid’s slicked-back gel, snarling from the Calderón with their openly far-right ultras and their hostile playing style.
Nobody loved them until recently, until Simeone began to prove himself a witty and almost interesting press-conference speaker, insisting on his slogan of ‘partido a partido’ (we take it game for game) – a phrase that crops up insistently in normal everyday speech in Spain now. I heard a pensioner last week in the street, struggling to walk post-operation, reply to the question of a fellow pensioner as to his state of mind with ‘Hombre! Partido a partido’. Simeone has changed the linguistic landscape, and as a result made Barcelona much less likeable this season. It matters.
Luis Enrique’s tetchy inability to accept criticism, Neymar’s unsporting silliness, Pique’s ludicrous tweeting, various players’ inability to understand the basic concept of tax payments and the squad’s general inability to accept defeat graciously has all helped to shift the emotional residue Atlético’s way. During their semi-final against Bayern, I saw grown Basques in my local bar celebrating their every move. I had to pinch myself, I must confess.
Atlético have now blown their title chances by losing almost bizarrely away to Levante, a team who almost nobody likes but who have been relegated finally. Levante won 2-1, managing to do what both Bayern and Barcelona failed miserably to do in the Champions League, at the same time joining the exclusive club of three (Sporting and Barcelona are the other two) who have scored more than one goal in a league match against Atlético this season.
Of course, popular teams like Leicester and Atlético have not had totally plain sailing. Both have been accused of boring catenaccio tactics (Eibar have suffered from similar accusations), as if this were somehow underhand. And whereas it is true that we would all love to see open football being played by endless ranks of talented and uninhibited players, the contrast in styles this season has been fascinating, and the challenge that Atlético and Leicester have issued to those who believe in possession as if it were a sacred mantra is an interesting one, and one which will occupy the front-stage next season.
Barcelona have actually been more attractive this season by speeding up their defence-attack transitions (in the absence of the metronome Xavi), and Real Madrid have prospered from being liberated from Rafa Benitez’ over-cautious and error-free ambitions, but in the end La Liga will probably be won by the side with the greatest offensive armoury. Barcelona must defeat Granada next week in Andalucia, their hosts now safe after accepting the generosity of their southern neighbours Sevilla, who inexplicably collapsed against them at home, 1-4.
So anyway, it’s down to the wire for La Liga, which is good. Only Levante are down, inviting an interesting last weekend in the relegation scrap, and Real Madrid will still dream during their visit to Deportivo, who are now mathematically safe.
Spanish football is of course on a bit of a high, with the Madrid-city Champions League final to be repeated in Milan, and Sevilla in the final of the Europa League for the 3rd season in succession, with an attractive-looking game against Liverpool in prospect.
Villarreal let the side down by losing to Liverpool in the semis, but hey – some other country deserves a chance.
