Y Viva Euskadi Part 2

(Published in the Percy Main v Heaton Stannington programme on 1st September 2010)

Y Viva Euskadi (Part 2)

By the Wednesday after the World Cup Final, Spain was starting to get back to normal. The victorious squad had finally left their private reception with the Royal Family and Government, checked out of their Madrid hotel and gone on their belated holidays, two days after most top European sides had returned for pre season training. In Euskadi, most Basques began to accept what it was going to be like living the nightmare for the next four years. As one Gasteiz resident told me “Euro 2008 was bad enough, but this is far worse.”

To see if Basque nationalism could hold its own against Castilian triumphalism, I took the bus from Vitoria to Bilbao; there used to be a train line linking Spanish ruled Basques with their French counterparts, but Franco had it dug up in the late 1960s, isolating Euskadi. Thankfully, EU money has provided for swift motorways that are resolutely empty, meaning the trip to Bilbao took less than an hour.

Not having been to see Newcastle’s glorious defeat in the UEFA Cup in 1994, I was worried about finding the ground; I needn’t have been. Every road sign in Blibao includes a symbol pointing to San Mames, or the Cathedral as it is commonly known. Arriving at the mature but atmospheric ground, I was delighted to see than for a very reasonable E6 (a fiver basically), I could have a tour of the ground and unlimited access to the club museum. When the guide found I was from Newcastle, he immediately congratulated me on my team’s promotion; I didn’t realise Percy Main’s fame had spread so far!

Seriously, he could not have been more attentive to me, explaining where Newcastle fans had been sat and how the game had unfolded. The other two English speakers on the tour were a pair of Liverpool fans from Dublin who were “killing time until we go out on the gargle,” so they didn’t object to the personalised nature of the tour. If Newcastle had won 4-0 I wonder if the guide would have been as accommodating.

Bilbao are properly known as Athletic Club and had a history of using English players, especially from Blackburn in their early years, as well as adopting the strip of Southampton, a port linked with Bilbao for trading reasons. In 1913, local rivals Real Sociedad from San Sebastien (Donostie) objected to this and so Athletic Club were banned from using foreigners. As proud Basques, they took the term foreigner to its logical conclusion, so for 97 years, Bilbao have signed only Basques, though their most successful manager was Wolverhampton born Mr. Fred Pentland, who is the reason why all Spanish football managers are known, to this day, as el mister. It is a fascinating tour of a great historical club and as San Mames is due to be replaced by a new ground in 2013, which will be directly opposite the current home, I know I must return before then. Sadly there was no chance of seeing a game as the Spanish season doesn’t kick off until late August.

From San Mames, I took the immaculate tram that piped Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons” as we went, to the amazing Guggenheim Art Gallery to see exhibitions by Henri Rousseau and Anish Kapoor, I’d seen at the Baltic already, as well as installations by Geoff Koons, an amazing 100 foot puppy made of multi coloured flowers, and Louis Bourgeois. By 7pm I was stunned; reeling breathless from the culture, history and architecture of this crazy city. I simply can’t recommend Bilbao too highly, though I’m glad I’d arrived the week after Rammstein and Faith No More had headlined the Bilbao Music Festival.

As well as Bilbao, there are 3 other major Basque football sides; Real Sociedad, who have just returned to the top flight and 3 seasons of second tier football, first division Osasuna from Pamplona who are managed by the notoriously sweaty former Spain manager Jose Camacho and Vitoria’s own “glorioso” Alaves. Taking their name from the county in which Vitoria-Gasteiz is based, Alaves have sunk from 2001 UEFA Cup finalists, where they lost a pulsating game 5-4 in extra time to Liverpool via an own goal, to preparing for their second season in the regionalised third division.

There was no real prospect of visiting either Sociedad or Osasuna, but as the Medizarotta home of Alaves was 5km from where I was staying, I had to go and pay my respects. In fact I went twice, having checked the opening times of the club shop and museum on the website; both times it was closed, with no sign of life at the ground. Sadly it seems as if the economic realities of a double relegation are biting hard. Shame really; I fancied one of their pink away tops.

However, on the Friday, I struck lucky. Out on a bike ride in the Salburua district of Vitoria, I came across a football ground, that of Deportivo Municipal Betono, who are a local amateur side. It reminded me of Benfield or Nissan; hard standing, little cover and a smart stand, but in a complex like Team Northumbria’s Coach Lane, with 6 full size pitches, half of them grass and half 4G rubber crumb. Presumably the Municipal part of their name hints at the source of funding.

Purely for research purposes I wandered in, as entry was free, taking in what I subsequently discovered was Osasuna U19 v Alaves U19 in the Gasteiz Cup, an invitational youth tournament that was drawing to a climax. The game ended in a 1-1 draw and after a barren period of extra time, penalties loomed. Quite astonishingly, Osasuna won the shoot-out by the scarecely believable margin of 15-14, with their keeper dinking his second Panenka-esque finish past a statuesque home keeper to close out the contest. Shame he hadn’t been as good at stopping them or we’d have all been able to move on half an hour earlier. His first such finish had caused me to issue an oath of surprise in English, which resulted in an elderly gentleman engaging me in conversation. Turned out he’d lived in Shepherd’s Bush for 5 years in the 80s working as a chef; he was also a football nut and escorted me to the next pitch along to see an English women’s team.

“I think they may be my beloved Queen’s Park Rangers,” said the one time resident of W12. Sadly for him, they were from a little further west, being Reading’s U17 side, who were taking on an Alaves ladies side resplendent in appropriate pink shirts. It wasn’t a contest as the taller, stronger, heavier English girls proved the value of a high trans fat and alcopop rich diet by trouncing the home side 6-0. All the while I contemplated whether Reading’s ladies should be known as the Biscuitwomen or the Princess Royals.

Whatever the name, they deserved their cup and medals. I’ll be forever thankful to them for helping me to open my account for 2010/2011 and to see my first games on allegedly Spanish soil (once a groundhopper; always a groundhopper), the day before the Main got our season underway with the 2-0 win over Newcastle East End.