For a team whose name means ‘health’, Osasuna are not exactly fit as a fiddle this season. As if their off-the-field problems were not enough, they are under investigation for match-fixing during last season’s unsuccessful attempt to avoid relegation, have an ex-president and ex-director recently released from prison on bail, and financial problems popping up like poisonous mushrooms – things on the pitch are not going too well either. Nine games without a win, and one place above the relegation places, the dreaded Segunda ‘B’ is looking like a distinct reality.
Nicknamed ‘El Pozo’ (the Well), Spanish football’s third tier is a dark depth from which many sides never return. For Osasuna, it’s a long way from the wonderful days of 2007, when the club reached the UEFA Cup semi-finals against all the odds, only to lose to compatriots Sevilla.
Dreary imagery aside, on a sunny Sunday with the Easter holidays in sight, and with no top-flight action to distract, the one-hour drive to Pamplona over the mountains from San Sebastián didn’t look too daunting. The newish motorway takes you high up into the clouds, through the Pyrenean foothills and down into the basin of northern Navarre where the landscape begins to hint at the changes to come further south.
Pamplona is best known for its mad, week-long July fiesta ‘San Fermin’, where bulls are corralled in the early morning through the narrow streets of the city’s old quarter. With their horns close to the backsides of hundreds of fleeing runners, the ritual attracts the brave, the bold and those who fancy a little dabble with death and all before they finally get to sit down for their breakfasts. For the rest of the year, however, it’s a fairly tame city, cold and edgy in winter and only worthy of a visit due to the beauty of the surrounding region.
The stadium, renamed ‘El Sadar’ after a brief flirtation with the controversial moniker ‘El Reyno de Navarra’ (The Kingdom of Navarre), was inaugurated in 1967 and now holds 20,000. Out on the southern limits, surrounded by supermarkets and industrial estates, it’s notoriously difficult to park. The ground demands you follow the flow of cars into a supermarket car-park and trust that nobody will mind before joining the stream of folks as they flit hurriedly along short-cuts through alleyways that lead to the ground.
The tall western stand [below], built in 1990, comes into view and I nip to the ticket office to get a behind-the-goal seat. No press pass today. I want to sit in the stands and get a sense of a club that may be living on borrowed time, in one of the worst periods since its foundation in 1920. They could be relegated for financial irregularities, match-fixing, or just plain lack of points. Choose your execution method.
To rub things in further, their visitors today are Sporting de Gijón, another Segunda ‘A’ team more associated with the top flight but in much better health. They sit in 2nd place, and their two seasons in the league look like they might be coming to an end. The teams appear to be travelling in different directions. Up in the tall western stand, there are easily a thousand Sporting fans. Gijón is to the west in Asturias, a five-hour drive away, but it hasn’t deterred their fans who are buoyed by rather higher expectations than those of their hosts.
Osasuna haven’t won at home since January 3, when they beat Leganés 2-1. Their last win of any description was at Barcelona ‘B’ on the 25th of the same month. It’s been a long, hard winter, but today the sun is shining and there’s a decent-sized crowd, considering the circumstances. The ground looks bigger than I remember, but the last time I was here it was for a Copa Del Rey game at night, and it was teeming down.
I plonk myself behind the north goal, but the white nets seem to be made of thicker material than usual, rendering the view appalling. I can’t see anything at the other end, but when the play approaches my goal the action is in-your-face, with the players disconcertingly close. The Osasuna goalie with his back to us is Asier Riesgo [below], whose surname means ‘risk’. Not a good omen. It reminds me of my childhood dentist back in England, Dr Payne, and the guy who sold second-hand cars down the road called John Rust. You just want to quietly advise them to get another job. Riesgo was at Real Sociedad until 2010, when he lost his place to Claudio Bravo, whose surname means ‘brave’. Which would you prefer? The Osasuna rectors seem fairly clear on this themselves, since Riesgo has only made 12 full appearances for the first-team since joining.
Whatever Osasuna, in their classic red shirts and black shorts, don’t look like a side down on their luck, and the short-sleeved crowd are hollering their support. Every decent touch, every full-blooded tackle earns roars of approval from the bear-pit. This has traditionally been a ground where angels fear to tread, and the Osasuna ultras, ‘Indar Gorri’ (Red Strength) over in the south stand have a poor reputation, as do some of the Sporting followers. The large police presence was conspicuous outside the stadium but the Sporting fans have been herded together in the west stand, more visible than audible. They’re decked out in their traditional red and white stripes, but down on the pitch the team is dressed in a natty olive green, one shade darker than the bright baize of the sun-lit pitch.
As befits their relative positions in the table with eleven games to go, Sporting look the better side. They look bigger, fitter and faster, breaking up Osasuna’s midfield passing with ease and breaking with swift and menacing efficiency. There’s a confident strut about them and, although the home side scurry and scamper enthusiastically, Sporting look the business. The elegant Pablo Pérez is controlling matters, keeping the wide players stocked with plenty of possession, and several venomous crosses from Miguel Angel Guerrero almost meet their target. The game is entertaining, with some quality play on show.
Last weekend I watched a Segunda ‘B’ game between Real Sociedad ‘B’ and Trival Valderas, and there now seems to be an abyss between these two games. The aforementioned affair was populated by gangly kids and watched by 750 people. This one is a fully-grown combat, watched by a 16,000 strong paying public. The Spanish league can always delight, in its colourful and varied intensity, but there is a steep cliff at the end of the path where Segunda ‘A’ ends and the rest begins. You can peer over the edge and squint, but it’s hard to see things clearly below.
Half-time arrives and I scramble up and down the honeycomb stairs behind the stands, emerging from different holes and snapping photos from different angles, looking for a decent shot. Finally, a steward wags his finger at me and tells me I can’t do this. It’s unclear why, but he’s big and looks confrontational, so I decide not to argue. I settle down into my seat late, but it’s already clear that Osasuna have a different set of intentions, in a game they really must win. The tiny home midfielder Sisi is suddenly running things, working at involving the equally diminutive but skilful Congolese loan player Cedrick on the right. Clearly, they’ve decided to exploit this channel for the half and as the game wears on, the simple tactical decision begins to pay dividends.
Suddenly, Sporting’s stocky defenders look ungainly and panicky, their midfielders no longer have the ball, and Osasuna are pelting their penalty area with fizzing crosses, half shots and scuffed attempts, one of which rebounds off the post. Alberto García, their Catalan goalie, dressed in a horrendous combination of pink and purple, is now leaping about like a man possessed but he somehow manages to keep the ball from crossing the line. The man to my right, hitherto fairly calm, is now on his feet and shouting imprecations at Alberto, as if the keeper can really hear amid the din. “You’re going to mess up, you son of a dog!” he hollers. “That’s because you’re a mess yourself. How can you dress up in that kit!” he screams, as if this really is a major point. “No tienes vergüenza! Vete a casa!” (You’ve no shame! Get thee gone!).
But Alberto saves the day several times, poor dress sense or otherwise, and emerges as the hero of the afternoon. Sporting settle for the point, and stay 2nd, two points behind Betis – who have already won at Recreativo. Sporting have still lost only two games in 31, and despite their second-half wobble, look well placed to go up. They have the crowd and the resources, but so do Osasuna, who are now in 18th place, only three points above Racing Santander, another old First Division side fallen on hard times.
Watching their impassioned supporters encouraging their team to the last, you feel sorry for this set of supporters that are staring relegation and financial meltdown in the face. And they are in this situation due to a small cadre of allegedly corrupt men, seemingly about to receive the hard arm of the law in a case which still threatens to become Spain’s biggest-ever football scandal. The fans deserve better, but there’s not a lot they can do. Ever fallen in love with something you shouldn’t have? At this juncture Osasuna fans look unlucky in love.
