Barcelona in the strange and symbolic eye of a storm over Catalonia | Sid Lowe

At every Camp Nou game for almost six years now, chants for Catalan independence have gone up when the clock reaches 17 minutes and 14 seconds, commemorating the year the city fell to Felipe V, but not this time – not on the day they were perhaps closer to independence than ever before. This time, Europe’s largest stadium was silent. No fans could be heard, only footballers. Occasionally, the referee’s whistle rang out or somebody clapped yet there were no chants, no songs and no one to sing them. At the side of the pitch where Barcelona played Las Palmas, stewards in orange bibs lined up to keep an eye on stands that had no one in them. Ninety-eight thousand seats sat empty; barely a couple of hundred people were there, and many of those wished they weren’t.
It was late Sunday morning when Barcelona’s international defender Gerard Piqué voted in the referendum on independence called by the Catalan government and declared illegal by the Spanish government and the constitutional courts. He, like many others, had insisted he would vote anyway so he had done, shaking hands with staff at the polling station, smiling and setting off for the stadium. But while that scene was repeated in many places it wasn’t the case everywhere and by the time he left the Camp Nou seven hours later, there were tears in his eyes. So much had happened and so much more could still happen, a future uncertain and scary. Barcelona had won 3-0 but Piqué called it the worst day of his career and the worst thing the state had done in 50 years.
“The images speak for themselves,” he said. They had gone around the world: pictures of violence and pictures of the stadium, surreal and still, gates closed in protest, fans standing outside looking through the bars as the match was played before a television audience of millions and an actual audience of substitutes, coaches, physios, cameramen, journalists and stadium staff. “Strange,” Sergio Busquets called it. Symbolic too – which this game was always likely to be, just not like this.
They say sport and politics shouldn’t mix, by which they tend to mean other people’s politics. It’s a line Spain’s secretary of state for sport has used, and one Espanyol manager Quique Sánchez Flores repeated on Sunday night after his side were defeated 2-0 at the Bernabéu, where the 12th minute saw Spain flags unfurled and a rendition of Y Viva España in response to the referendum. “I’m not going to mix politics or sport or take part in this show,” he said, but sport and politics do mix, especially with Barcelona, who the Marxist writer Manuel Vázquez Montalbán described as the “symbolic unarmed army of Catalonia”.
That identification with Catalonia, while nuanced, shifting, unevenly embraced, sometimes vague and often problematic, is part of what gives Barça an explicitly socio-political dimension. It comes together, of course, in the slogan: mes que un club, more than a club. And that meant this was always going to be more than a match even if in the end it was less than one.
In September 1976, Las Palmas came to the Camp Nou for the first Barcelona game broadcast in Catalan on Radio Barcelona. In October 1977, they were again the visitors when Barcelona invited Josep Taradellas, former head of the Catalan government, in exile since 1939, to preside over the game. “I’ll come on one condition,” he said: “You win.” Before the match, he told supporters they shared the “same faith” he had 40 years earlier, insisting they had inherited a Barcelona “rooted in Catalanism”. Later in 1978, Las Palmas were again their opponents when they won the Cup for the first time since the transition to democracy, Johan Cruyff collecting the trophy from Juan Carlos. And then on Sunday, the day of the referendum, Las Palmas arrived once more.
This time they said they didn’t want to be silent witnesses: they came with special shirts, Spain flags stitched to their chests.
During the week, national police and civil guard had arrived in Catalonia charged with preventing a referendum that had been declared illegal. Videos showed civil guard officers setting off to Catalonia, applauded by friends and families who sang the football chant “A por ellos!”. Roughly: go get them! Bizarrely, others had turned up at the port of Barcelona in a boat with a gigantic picture of Tweety Pie on the side. Arrests were made, ballot papers destroyed and websites blocked, a case for sedition brought. The government claimed to have dismantled the referendum. Of 2,315 polling stations, more than half had been sealed off, they said. They would enforce the law, they added. We’ll still vote, came the reply. “Votarem!” the chant.
The government said that preventing the referendum was defending democracy. Not many footballers spoke but some did. Barcelona released a statement defending the right to vote; not necessarily to choose independence but to choose. “Voting is democracy!” the former Barcelona player Carles Puyol said. “Tomorrow is not about independence, it is about democracy,” Pep Guardiola insisted. “You can vote yes, no, or blank, but you vote,” Piqué said later. “For a long time people couldn’t vote and now it’s something we have to defend.”
Electoral colleges were occupied to keep them open, voting slips printed privately, plastic ballot boxes brought in. In those conditions it was flawed, few guarantees offered, but it was going ahead, and while some – particularly those against succession – stayed away, large numbers came out. Polling stations opened on Sunday morning and some were forcibly closed down. But by the end of a day of tension and violence that felt like a point of no return, the Catalan government said over two million people had voted, and Spain’s Interior Ministry admitted that all but 79 of the 2,315 polling stations had opened. The Camp Nou, that sounding box of Catalan sentiment, on the other hand, had not.
In some places, police in riot gear fired rubber bullets. They smashed through doors of polling stations and took ballot boxes. There were charges, sticks used, people hurt. There was blood and balaclavas, anger and aggression. Some of the images were brutal, horrifying. In some places national police confronted firemen who protected people; there were cases of confrontations between the national police force and the Catalan police. “We did what we had to do,” the Spanish president Mariano Rajoy later said. He called Spain an example to the world, but the reaction suggested that much of the world didn’t agree. The Catalan government claimed 850 people had been hurt.
The images travelled; you’ll have seen dozens of them by now. On Sunday night, crowds gathered at the Puerta del Sol in central Madrid to show support. The images had reached the Camp Nou too, where there was a protest as well, but this was different. “Sadly, I grew up in a place that’s seen similar before,” their Basque manager Ernesto Valverde said. “We don’t live in a bubble. We’re all conscious of what happened.” In those circumstances, things changed. Barcelona’s identification with Catalonia demanded it.
The traditional pre-match meal between directors of the two clubs was cancelled and meetings were held. There were many who wanted to refuse to play. The grada de animació, the fans behind the north goal, said the game should be called off and if it wasn’t they would ask people to invade the pitch. Rumours started going around that it would be postponed and at 1.40pm the Catalan Football Federation announced the suspension of all games due to be played after 2pm. Barcelona-Las Palmas, kick off 4.15pm, was one of them, but nothing explicit was said. So they waited.
If it was to be cancelled, most initially assumed it was a safety issue – even though four days before, when they finally broached the fact that, hang on, the game is on the same day as the referendum, authorities had said there would be no problem. The referee said as much in his report. Barcelona though said differently. The league said there was no security threat and refused requests to postpone the match. If Barcelona pulled out, they were informed they would automatically lose 3-0 and have a further three points taken off.
At 2.40pm reports started circulating that it was off, but no one knew for sure. At Camp Nou, the gates were still closed to fans. The concourse around the stadium was deserted but for a handful of staff with no idea what was happening, standing there waiting. In the offices, the assumption was that it was off, but nothing had yet been confirmed. At 3.14pm, sporting director Robert Fernández walked in. “I don’t know anything,” he said. Another director privately said it was off. The teams, though, were already inside. Players and the board were discussing it. Most players wanted to go ahead. There was still no news and still no supporters. They waited outside. Inside, passageways were empty. At the stalls, they prepared food for fans who weren’t coming. Stewards went through the motions and hostesses stood there with no one to greet.
At 3.30pm, 45 minutes before kick-off, Jesper Cillissen came out to warm up in an empty stadium, followed soon after by Ter Stegen. Up in the directors’ box, Fernández sat with Ariedo Braida, just the two of them. 3.34pm, still no idea. Down below, two members of staff walked across carrying a board saying “democracy” on it. It was 3.42pm and there was no news, but the players were out now in their normal yellow-and-red-striped training tops, the colour of the Catalan flag. The thud-thud of the ball echoed around the stadium. Then, 24 minutes before kick-off, it was finally official: Barcelona would play Las Palmas, but behind closed doors.
98,000 empty seats. And a game that feels empty too. pic.twitter.com/B1aSGK3JIY
“I understand that some didn’t want to play,” Piqué said later. “There were arguments for and against.” Two directors resigned, Jordi Monés and Carlos Villarrubí walking immediately. Josep Maria Bartomeu explained that with six points the punishment for pulling out they had decided to stay, but to play behind closed doors as a way of making a point, sending an image around the world. It was a decision in keeping with his presidency – a kind of “yeah but no” that didn’t really please anyone. As Gazetta dello Sport’s Filippo Ricci put it, ultimately the decision satisfied neither tourist nor purist. The former left disappointed; the latter felt that if you really are more than a club, then forget the six points. Ex-president Joan Laporta called it an “abstention”. Headlines on Monday called it a disgrace.
If not everyone agreed. Not everyone knew, either. Outside fans waited by the gate, wondering what was going on. There were 13 minutes to go until kick-off but the loud speakers there stayed silent. Journalists broke the bad news. Then at 4.05pm, an announcement was at last made and the supporters headed home. They’d waited a long time for nothing.
At 4.13pm, Barcelona’s anthem blared out. The referee came out of the tunnel and picked up the ball from that absurd plinth, hurriedly throwing down the one he had in his hand, and the players followed. Echoing round, the anthem opens with the line: “The whole stadium cheers; we’re the blue and claret people.” When it closed, a “brave cry”, the place fell silent and the whistle went, heard by all. There was no one in stands, where the mes que un club slogan sat exposed. The directors’ box lay empty. The board watched it from somewhere inside. So did the players’ families, a lift-load of kids leaving together at the end.
Every shout was audible. A free-kick was greeted with “oh, so you give this one?”, there was something about a “mother’s shell”, and the standard call of any park anywhere: get out, push up, man on, quick, that’s it, near post, no foul, good. There’s something odd about actually hearing someone shout: “Leo! Leo! Here, Leo!” at Messi. Something odd about it all. Something sad too, a kind of what’s the point when it’s like this? But it was fascinating too. You could close your eyes and more or less follow the game, imagining the kind of pass delivered by the noise, the ball struck or stroked. Phwump or tac.
From way, way up, you could hear Messi get hit, and the satisfying sound of his free-kicks being saved: leather then latex on the ball. From way down there they could hear the radio commentators shouting when Busquets scored. And when Messi got the second and third there was gentle applause from a ballboy behind the goal. Suddenly, somehow, in an empty stadium there was also someone running on the pitch, swiftly removed by stewards. He appeared to be wearing an independence shirt and carrying a piece of paper. With barely seconds to go Luis Suárez put a shot wide. His scream rolled round the seats and he tore at his shirt, ripping it wide open and walking off. Somehow it didn’t seem to matter so much on an empty stage, like this didn’t really count. But the three points did – which was why they played. Maybe sport did trump politics? At the end, the players shook hands but didn’t swap shirts and left quietly.
At the end, it says there. Could this be the end? The beginning of the end, anyway.
By late evening, the Catalan government announced that 2,262,422 votes had been cast; 2,020,144 of them voting Yes to independence. On Sunday morning Marca had led with a front cover showing Neymar and Cavani embracing insisting that it is never too late to sort things out. Perhaps they should have used Piqué and Ramos, for a start, and by Sunday night, it felt more difficult than ever. “This was not a referendum, it was just a show,” Rajoy said. He said the responsibility lay solely with those who had brought the referendum, defying the law. He also belatedly talked about dialogue, but something shifted and that feels further away than ever. Although those voting figures are flawed – general elections have previously suggested that Catalonia is divided on the issue, split almost exactly down the middle – Puigdemont says it is a mandate and that a unilateral declaration of independence may follow in 48 hours.
Then what? How does the Spanish state react? And what happens next? And what happens to Catalonia’s football teams? It doesn’t matter, you might think, but it does. Perhaps more than it should. It has been a recurring theme in recent years, a question asked over and over. The president of the league says that in the event of independence, they would not be able to play in La Liga. Some of them didn’t want to play on Sunday. “We discussed it,” Piqué said. “After everything that happened today in Catalonia and the pictures, which speak for themselves, the violence that everyone has seen, it was very hard to play without our fans.”
As he spoke, his voice began to break. He left just before 7pm. Although he offered to step aside if the manager thinks he is a problem, Piqué will arrive in Madrid, to play for Spain. “I truly believe there are loads of people in Spain who are totally against this and believe in democracy,” he said. “There has been no act of aggression [from Catalonia] and the national police and the civil guard had to come and act the way they have.
“I think this will make things much worse. It’s one of the worst decisions in 50 years, and it will only separate Spain and Catalonia more. I’m very proud of Catalonia and all its people. They were peaceful, they didn’t react. I’d tell them to keep doing it the same. However much they are incited, however much they want them to fall into the trap, remain peaceful and sing, sing loud.”
• So, just the 34 goals this week, then.
• For a moment, Madrid lived a little dangerously against Espanyol. A shot against the post before half-time ushered in a second half when they suffered and, although they had a one-goal lead, you wondered if they might even go a fourth league game at home without a win. But just as the pressure built, there was Isco again to score his second. “It was about time we won at the Bernabéu,” he said.
• Real Sociedad finally broke a run of four consecutive games in which they conceded three – by letting in four. Still, at least they scored four as well, in a wet, wild and wonderful match with Real Betis at Anoeta which went from 0-1 to 1-1 and from 2-1 to 2-3, then 3-3, 3-4 in the 84th minute and 4-4 in the 85th. And it could have been 4-5 as well, when Sergio Leon, who’d belted in the 3-4, raced away at the very end and was brought down on the edge of the area.
• “New manager, certain victory,” they say. Then again, they say a lot of things. This time, though, they were almost right. Pako Ayesteran’s Las Palmas were beaten at the Camp Nou but there were debut victories for Calleja at Villarreal, where Bakambu scored a hat-trick against Eibar, and for Alavés’s new manager Di Biasi. Their win over Levante gets them off the mark … and off the bottom. “It doesn’t always work like that, but today it did,” he said. It’s Málaga who are bottom now. “We’re not playing so badly as to only have a point but we have to accept the reality,” Míchel said. “The numbers are horrible.”
• “I’ve saved a match ball,” Pepe Mel admitted. Florin Andone saved it for him with three minutes to go.
• Málaga were beaten 2-0 by Sevilla, who are now second without entirely convincing. Mind you, it was hot: 36 degrees at the Sánchez Pizjuán. “You don’t have to be a genius to know that you can’t play a game in Sevilla at four o’clock,” Berizzo said. “And it’s not even the players who are at the greatest risk: the fans spent three hours in the oven.”
• Atlético couldn’t score at Butarque for the second season in a row. And the main reason it finished 0-0 again was Jan Oblak.
• Time to take Valencia seriously. “We’re getting full marks, but there’s a long way to go,” Marcelino said after they won 3-2 against Athletic, for whom Aduriz scored a gorgeous goal. That was not all he said. He also nailed international week: “It gives you life,” he said. “I get out of here, get to Asturias, forget it all for a few days.”
Results: Celta 3–3 Girona, Deportivo 2–1 Getafe, Sevilla 2–0 Málaga, Levante 0-2 Alavés, Leganés 0–0 Atlético, Real Sociedad 4–4 Betis, Barcelona 3–0 Las Palmas, Villarreal 3–0 Eibar, Valencia 3–2 Athletic, Real Madrid 2–0 Espanyol.

SOURCE : GUARDIAN SPORTS
posted by CAMPUS94