Life in a year full of Saturdays: Barcelona - Iniesta...Goooooooaaaaalllllll!!!!!!!!!

Barcelona (Spain)

Campeones!

8th - 12th July

Spain have had their fair share of opportunities but Holland definitely had the most clear cut chance in the game with Robben breaking through one one one with Casillas and attempting to place the ball just on his right. Casillas takes an even money bet by diving one way and stretching out his legs, the ball clips his boots and goes sailing out over the goal line. If ever there was a turning point in a game then from what I know, that would have been it. The Temple Stone bar breathes a sigh of relief, their heroes live to fight in a debutant's title fight.

[Robben miss - 'THE' Dutch chance]

As the game ticks on past the standard 90 mins and heads into extra time the eyes of Spaniards and ring-ins alike are glued to all available TV's. The Spanish have had the greater proportion of the possession, have had the fairer share of the play and have not taken to chopping down their opponents the way the Dutch have. Conversely the Dutch appear to be just hanging on in a game which they feel that they have a divine right to win after being denied in two previous attempts,(West Germany '74) and (Argentina '78). Ticking over the 100 min mark and with the referee being yellow card trigger happy in a game that I think was officiated in a very average manner, Dutch left back Jonhnny Heitinger collects his second yellow of the match and gets marched. He'll more than likely get to watch the rest of the match later in retirement when he shows his grand children that he did actually play in a World Cup final and also shows them that he was one of a small band of brothers that also got sent off.
[Heitinga foul - second yellow]

At the Temple Stone bar JJ and I are intently staring at the screen. My dad is chatting tactics with me and saying that whilst he thinks the Spanish deserve the win the Dutch will more than likely take it out if match goes to penalties. My mum is watching the game through Heinekin filled eyes, chatting with our Israeli and Swedish friends who are also barracking for Spain as much as we are. The seconds role on, each Spanish chance getting met with screams, hands on heads and large cries of 'Ooooh'.

Fernando Torres, having been a little out of form in coming back from injury gets the ball on the left hand wing in the 117th minute. He places a ball into Cesc Fabregas, another player that had been out of favour with the coach but has made an appearance in this final, his duty now to become either a goal scorer or provider. Accepting the ball from Torres on the edge of the box he looks left and sees Iniesta open. A diagonal pass to Iniesta just inside the box puts the crowd in Temple Stone onto their feet again. Iniesta beats his man with a run that may have had a touch of offside about it (but on review I've founded it to be perfectly timed), the crowd in the bar start screaming for a shot and Iniesta swings his right foot at the ball. It flies diagonally across the penalty box beating the Dutch keeper and hitting the back of the net on the right side.

[The WINNER]

[Stadium view]

All of Spain screams in unison!!!

Temple Stone Bar - Barri Gotic - Barcelona

JJ in support of the Spanish - Temple Stone Bar - Barri Gotic - Barcelona

After 117 minutes of tension and stress the relief and joy expressed at that moment is something to behold. Being a bandwagon Spanish supporter for this World Cup I'm up with them, screaming my lungs out and enjoying the moment in the type of way that only a native could truly understand. I mean I get it though, back in 2005 when I was at the game where Aloisi hit the back of the net in that fateful penalty shoot out the emotion that was released in that single instant was 32 years of dreams, broken hearts and hope. This for Spain was 80 years of under achievement, of having the game, having the players, and just not delivering when it mattered. It was all that and it was a hell of a lot more for the Spanish, and to experience that, to be part of it when they also became a World Cup winner for the first time, one of only 7 others, was an experience that I had hoped for and one now that I'll now never forget.

High fives, 'Espana chants', 'Campeones chants', waving of scarves, flags, shirts, and this was only the bar. My parents, JJ and myself hung around to watch Spain lift the trophy and then had to get out amongst the Barcelona home town crowd in order to experience one of the best nights of their lives.

Walking up Las Ramblas, fighting our way up slowly to Plaza Catalunya, there was red and yellow everywhere. At one intersection their were people on lamp posts, bus stops, magazine stores, whatever the hell they could do in order to get elevated and wave their flag. Standing on the corner of Las Ramblas and another street all you could hear were vuvuzuelas and the cry of 'Campeones'. I managed to stand on a bin and lent up against a traffic post in order to swing around my newly purchased Espana scarf. Whilst I was 'giving it some' in honour and in aid of the Spanish victory the crowd spread out before more and in front of me. Barcelona was already a 'good vibe' city but now it had reached 'beserker city limits'.

JJ and I walked up to Plaza Catalunya via Las Ramblas, people weaving in and out of each other, kind of in half amazement and shock. Finally getting up to the Plaza and taking a look around, it was literally people, flags and scarves for as far as you could see.The area around the Plaza which at anytime of day and night was normally filled with all sorts of traffic was now a swarm of Spaniards celebrating an epic moment in their sporting history. To witness the people, their good spirit and vibes was something that I'll always remember, it was an absolutely fantastic experience.

Victory celebrations - Plaza Catalunya - Barcelona

Fountain Climbers - Plaza Catalunya - Barcelona

Victory celebrations - Plaza Catalunya - Barcelona

JJ with Prancing Pedro - Plaza Catalunya - Barcelona

Prancing Pedro doing his thang - Plaza Catalunya

The days leading up to July 11th...

In the few days prior to the World Cup final JJ had made her way via a flight that had taken her from Sydney to Shangai, Paris and then finally to Barcelona on somewhat of an epic 37hr journey. Waiting at Barcelona airport for JJ to arrive I witness a somewhat tired and mentally challenged girl make her first tentative steps into a vibrant city.

That evening the plan was to keep JJ up and about for as long as possible so we could get her into the swing of the timezone. This planned involved a wonderful evening view of the city of Barcelona and a cocktail or several to accompany the brutal jet lag hangover. I think for the most part our plan worked a treat, keeping JJ swinging until about midnight at which point her batteries gave the big FU signal and termination of all life seemed imminent. Round one, JJ vs. Barcelona nightlife went to Barcelona, but that was OK, this wasn't going to be a sprint my friends.

The next day JJ and I made our way down to the beach at Barcelonetta, (San Sebastian), had ourselves a few drinks and checked out the beach talent, which in some areas made for some amusing viewing, especially the guys that were 'on display' trying to get their 'massive on' to a viewing audience that comprised mainly of old times, grandma's and youngish mothers who may have been wondering where their better days were. Either way, it wasn't the style of audience that they were particularly seeking.

A little further down the beach was the Port Olympico, full of bars and restaurants which were kind of cool but unfortunately didn't have the exact vibe that it could have had without the car park fronting one side of the bar front. Never the less, cocktails in the Mediterranean sun was too good an offer to pass up and settled the afternoon account for us perfectly.

Waking up in Barcelona...

...has been an experience that we've become accustomed to, but seeing it through the eyes of a newbie reminded me of how I viewed the place just a couple of weeks ago. Having a coffee, watching the wondering crowds meander in the little corner of the world we inhabited was just the tonic for starting up the engines. On this day JJ and I kicked off proceedings by making our way up to Montjuic, a hill/mountain on the south side of the city that has absolutely stunning views. We then proceeded to jump the cable car across the Port and then wondered back through the Gothic area for a few hours, quite an easy thing to do when you have bar, after bar, after bar that are all brilliant and enticing.

View of Barcelona from Port cable car

Flamenco - Barcelona

.....Which brings us up to World Cup day, and the Spanish date with destiny. Wondering the Gothic quarter and watching all the people prepare themselves for what was possibly going to be a mammoth evening was simply exciting in itself. Watching Spaniards and foreigners alike pick up supporters gear for the 'roja' kind of put us in a position where we felt obligated to join in on the action. Without a lot of prompting JJ and I picked up a Spanish flag and scarf , then set out for some alcoholic amusement before game time.

....and so it was, on the 11th of July at sometime approaching midnight a little Spaniard swung his right foot at a ball and cracked a goal on a Johannesburg field that sent a nation into raptures, Iniesta...goooooaaaallllllll!!!!!

Spain: Campeones futball mundial 2010 - Vamos Espana!