[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”1_2″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Sport<\/em> lover<\/h2>\n[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row column_structure=”1_2,1_2″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”1_2″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” text_text_color=”#020B11″ animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n was in the habit of using the adjective \u201ccul\u00e9<\/em>\u201d (Bar\u00e7a supporter) to define himself. This interest in sport in general and in FC Barcelona in particular is reflected both in his life and in his work. Some of his essays, novels, television scripts and numerous journalistic articles are devoted to reflection on the sporting phenomenon for which he gained great international recognition. Despite his limited sports education, he played some sports, but above all he followed football, cycling, tennis and boxing on the radio and on television.<\/p>\nHis Bar\u00e7a style is rooted in the sentimental landscape of his childhood in the Raval neighbourhood, in the legend of the Bar\u00e7a of the Five Cups and in going to see matches, first, in the Les Corts stadium with relatives and, later, in the Camp Nou with a group of intellectuals of the anti-Franco left.<\/p>\n
[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”1_2″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” text_text_color=”#020B11″ link_font=”||||on||||” link_text_color=”#020B11″ animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
His apt and original explanation of what is “more than a club” with the phrase “unarmed symbolic army of Catalonia” made a great impact. He participated in various projects of the club and made known its political and social significance beyond our borders. Always eager to know the results of his team from any corner of the planet, he finally decided to become a shareholder. The tribute held at the Camp Nou on the day of his death and the creation of the “Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n International Journalism Award” are a testament to the importance of his figure and his legacy as an intellectual, sports journalist and cul\u00e9 fan.<\/p>\n
[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_padding=”0px||||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”||2em||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
MVM Sports<\/em> Library<\/h2>\n[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” width=”100%” max_width=”100%” custom_margin=”0px||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”0px||0px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][dsm_card_carousel centered_slides=”on” slide_to_show=”4″ equal_height=”on” dots=”off” module_class=”c” _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”0px||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”0px||0px||false|false” animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_6-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_6-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Jorge Valdano. Football stories<\/em>. Alfaguara. 1994<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_19.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_19.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
\u00c1ngel Bahamonde. El Real Madrid en la historia de Espa\u00f1a<\/em>. Taurus. 1995.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_7-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_7-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Bill Bufford. Entre los v\u00e1ndalos<\/em>. Anagrama. 1992.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_8-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_8-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Johan Cruyff. Me gusta el f\u00fatbol<\/em>. RBA Libros. 2002.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_9-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_9-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Alfredo Di St\u00e9fano. Gracias, vieja. The memories of the greatest soccer myth<\/em>. Aguilar. 2000.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_10.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_10.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Eduardo Galeano. El f\u00fatbol a sol y a sombra<\/em>. Siglo xxi Editores. 1994.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_11-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_11-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Antonio Gallego. Literatura de tema deportivo<\/em>. Spanish Press. 1969.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_12.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_12.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Bernard Gillet. Historia del deporte<\/em>. Oikos-Tau. 1971.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_13.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_13.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Duncan Shaw. F\u00fatbol y franquismo<\/em>. Alianza Editorial. 1987.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][\/dsm_card_carousel][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”||0px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”||0px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text admin_label=”seleccio_textos_title” module_class=”seleccio_textos_title” _builder_version=”4.22.1″ _module_preset=”default” header_2_text_color=”#020B11″ header_2_font_size=”4em” custom_margin=”||-21px||false|false” animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Selection of texts<\/h2>\n
[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” background_color=”#020B11″ global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
<\/div>Playing sport<\/div><\/div><\/div>\n\t\t\t\tPlaying sport<\/i><\/div>A bad sports education<\/strong>: “Our bad sentimental education became bad sports education, worse, impossible sports education. Only in schools from the urban waist up did they know what a stopwatch was for and years later, when the educational authorities tried to impose “sport” in neighbourhood schools, located in flats and with no other possible teacher than the principal’s skinniest daughter, the one who did the business was the nearest carpenter, responsible for making a vault, for example, by eye or ear, with the obvious risk that an entire class of schoolchildren like us would lose on their backs the future possibility of a career as Japanese sex athletes”<\/p>\n“Opening your eyes to the sense of muscle in the post-war period was not stimulating. The only sports facilities for the common folk were the vacant plots opened by the bombs, improvised football fields for balls made of rags, tin or rubber and, instead of showers, some hydrants or those fountains of Barcelona\u201d (\u201cCr\u00f3nica sentimental de la musculature\u201d. in: Olimpiada Cultural<\/em>, 16 November 1990. No pagination.).<\/p>\nFootball on vacant sites on the outskirts of the city<\/strong>: \u201cWhen we were kids, between Barcelona and l\u2019Hospitalet there were twenty kilometres of vacant sites. In Montju\u00efc, the Expo exhibition halls that had collapsed were esplanades where we went to play football\u201d (\u201cBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u201d in: Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a<\/em>. Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 152).<\/p>\nFootball among paving-stones<\/strong>: “Marcet, a very fine winger who once kicked a ball that someone gave him in a street (you could play football in the streets then), a mate of knock-abouts. Marcet took the ball, passed it from one foot to the other, flipped it to one shoulder, then to the head, dropped it on the tip of one foot… in short, he showed ball control. After the event there was a division of opinions. The most radical wing of the little band gathered there reproached the one who had passed the ball to Marcet for fraternising with the enemy. But, fortunately, the moderate majority prevailed and Marcet, despite being an Espa\u00f1ol supporter, entered our mental Olympus and during the years that remained of friendship and adolescence we remember that day when Marcet passed through our cobblestone stadium.\u201d(\u201cEnemigos para siempre\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>, Deportes, 29 November 1992, p. 48).<\/p>\nThe Flors de Maig 11-a-side football team<\/strong>: “The Flors de Maig (Mayflowers) team was made up of people who worked with publishers (Planeta, Salvat, Enciclop\u00e8dia catalana, Larousse), as well as some young university students. Two teams were set up, I don’t know how, one was the Mayflowers, which was called Atl\u00e9tico Marxista and we were in red, and another was the Real Acrata who were in black and was the team we normally played against. Here there were many diverse people, even a professor who was vice-rector of the University of Barcelona and Enric Fust\u00e9, financial advisor to Manolo and who appears in Carvalho, Jordi Borja, Sol\u00e9 Tura, it was a mixture of people from the publishing and the political worlds. We normally played on Saturday or Sunday mornings. I remember a significant anecdote. We went to play in La Verneda, in Poblenou, a working-class neighbourhood, adjacent to the ground of La Bota. We were playing and there was one thing that was striking even though we didn’t lend it any importance was that looking at both teams possibly three-quarters of the players wore beards, because it was a time when long hair was in style, and someone in the crowd said “these teams spend less on barbers than the Russians on catechisms”. It was striking because it wasn’t the run of the mill teams of young people in the neighbourhood, but people from the publishing world, usually left-wingers, who ended up calling and saying we need eleven to play… I remember these matches that were held from time to time, I remember taking part two or three times a year, mostly in the spring.\u201d (testimony of Borja de Riquer).<\/p>\nFutsal team with the colleagues of the CAU magazine <\/strong>
\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_3.jpg\")
<\/p>\nCentre-forward position<\/strong>
\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_1-185x300.jpg\")
\u00abE.V.-M (Enrique Vila-Matas): What position did you play in, Manolo?<\/p>\nMVM: I was a centre-forward because I was a bit heavy, I led the charge…<\/p>\n
E.V.-M: Who were you like?<\/p>\n
MVM: It was what they called the \u201cSpanish fury\u201d. I was a buffer, but from time to time I scored goals\u00bb <\/p>\n
(\u00abBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u00bb. aavv. Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a<\/em>. Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 153)<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_2-185x300.jpg\")
Ping-pong in El Carmen parish:
\n\u00abI remember that at that time if you wanted to have a place to hold meetings you could only join the Youth Front or the local Catholic Centre. And I signed up for the Catholic Centre of the El Carme parish.
\nBy the way, I often bumped into Benet and Jornet there, and Antoni von Kirchner. They would meet there to play ping-pong.\u00bb
\n(Quim Aranda. \u00abQu\u00e8 pensa Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n\u00bb. Interviwed by Quim Aranda. Barcelona: D\u00e8ria Editors, 1995, p. 27) <\/p>\n
Physical exercise in the Centro Gimn\u00e1stico Barcelon\u00e9s<\/strong><\/p>\nPoem \u201cB\u00edceps, tr\u00edceps\u201d
\n\u201cB\u00edceps, tr\u00edceps\u2026
\nHe had died
\nwhen attempting to do a handstand
\non two lacklustre stools,
\n drops of lemonade
\nor indentation, sweaty hands of couples
\nbetween one Sunday dance and another
\non the outskirts, picnic areas
\nwith yellow papers and purple
\ngarlands
\n But no one silenced the squeal
\nof the pulley, nor did it stop spinning
\non the fixed bar, not did the vault rear up
\nat the reckless jumps of artistic
\ngymnasts
\n and in front of the mirror, biceps
\ntriceps with rusty weights, deficient
\nneighbourhood gym equipment
\nimprove the race
\nexpensive project of informative leaflets
\nbiceps and triceps from seven in the morning,
\nturners, die makers, carpenters
\neven heirs to grocery stores,
\ndry cleaners, electrical accessories,
\nnuts
\n the son of the local pharmacist raised
\nthe rope with a half-iron unassisted
\n and in the summer
\nI made love on the sand with disenchanted Swedish women
\nwhite thighs and small breasts
\nsomewhat sad, somewhat rich, somewhat frigid in Sweden,
\nin Spain dazzled by the sun, Spain
\nis different and the biceps of stallions
\nwarm as a whispered song \u2013 the girl
\nfrom Puerto Rico, for whom do you sigh?
\n They sighed.
\nrhythmically -breathe in-breathe out-biceps-triceps-
\nor exchanged obscene words, obscene gestures
\nwith girls somewhat made up, fishnet stockings
\nand blue, pink, home-knitted cardigan,
\nThey learned cutting and tailoring in the windows
\nclose, uselessly blushing because of an
\nunforeseen sex peering from the window
\n between biceps
\nand triceps, raised curious eyes
\ntowards the terrace
\nwhere serious, like vegetarians,
\nthe supporters of Swedish gymnastics,
\nhigh school children, round-bellied paterfamilias,
\nAspirants and Instructors of Accion
\nCatolica, men with principles and readings
\ngraduates, Muller, Swedish gymnastics
\nand Health, rites, one two, one two or ow, or ow,
\nthe teacher raised his hands towards the mist,
\non the grey tiles of unwashable green beans,
\nunder the TV aerials, the cry of distant sirens in the port, in the factories<\/p>\n
\u00abLas ocho y media de la ma\u00f1ana en la Ciudad Condal\u00bb. Una educaci\u00f3n sentimental. Barcelona: El Bardo, 1967, p. 24-26<\/p>\n<\/div>
Enthusiasm for sport<\/i><\/div>Boxing during his childhood<\/strong>: \u201cWe all belong to the country of our childhood and I am from the nineteen-forties. There was a young boxer who had won the golden glove before the war and who tried to throw a hard punch to gain the victory that he would never achieve.\u201d (Luis Lopez Doy (dir.). Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n: el \u00e9xito de un perdedor<\/em>. Madrid: Televisi\u00f3n Espa\u00f1ola, 1997). If we can obtain the video, it can be included as an audiovisual resource.<\/p>\nYoung Serra<\/strong>: \u201cAnother name I think is important is Young Serra, the name of the boxer who appears in El Pianista<\/em> and is also the main character of the short story \u201cDesde los tejados\u201d, in \u201cHistorias de familia<\/em>\u201d. (\u2026) At that time there was a featherweight boxer in Spain called Young Mart\u00edn and he was scrawny, like half a kilo of boxer, but he won fights, he was the European featherweight champion.\u201d (Georges Tyras. Geometr\u00edas de la memoria<\/em>. Granada: Zoela, 2003, p. 143-144).<\/p>\nYoung Serra’s training in El pianista<\/em>:
\n\u201cThe other one runs over the burnt bricks, marked by the urine of the dogs that have left behind their shit burnt by the suns that the dancing runner uses as obstacles for the fencing-like tension of his steel legs, like steel cables, Andr\u00e9s comments mentally when he sees him leap and jump and make movements to pivot and strike his own shadow.<\/p>\nYou’re going to make yourself ill if you keep training like this and eating the rations they give us, Young. Stop now, damn it, Young.
\nBut Young, Young Serra, “golden glove” champion of the bantamweights of Barcelona, flits around Andr\u00e9s and even pretends to hit him, bringing his fist two centimetres from his chin.<\/p>\n
\u201cOne of these days you’re going to hit me.\u201d (El pianista<\/em>, p. 87).<\/p>\nThe cycling epic<\/strong>: “We love cycling those who since the time of Bernardo Ruiz turned it into an epic cutout on the school desk, and the giants of the route were just that, the giants of the route, without anyone asking them for explanations about gasoline or wood gas, in the case of the Spaniards, who guzzled it down” (“The Tour” El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 9 June 2001. Last page).<\/p>\n“I wish there were a Tour every month, because I know there are other important stage races, but the Tour is the true religion and since the times of Bernardo Ruiz, Koblet and Kubler, I live a whole year obsessed with the Tour and when I am no longer in this supervisory role one of my sadnesses, if I take any with me, will be not knowing what the Delgado of the day has done in the Tour\u201d (\u201cPericomania\u201d Intervi\u00fa<\/em>. No. 690. 1 August 1989. p. 122).<\/p>\nFootball on the radio<\/strong>: \u201cThe comeback of Mat\u00edas Prats is a bit like recovering a childhood. I remember those football broadcasts in which the voice of Mat\u00edas Prats managed to turn Gonzalo III into Siegfried, Basra into the real monster of Colombes and Gainza into a fox impossible to hunt, even the English abstaining\u201d (\u201cThe return of Mat\u00edas Prats\u201d El Peri\u00f3dico<\/em>. 30 May 1981. p. 39).<\/p>\nFootball on television<\/strong>: \u201cAnd one has an elephant\u2019s memory, an immense memory in which one keeps the collective celebratory tone of the victory over England in 1950. They were the same faces, the same vented frustrations, the same desire to give meaning to life and history, since it is not given by the daily exercise of living. I watched the 1950 match surrounded by Spaniards who were diverse in their ideology” (\u201cGol, gol, gol, gol, gol, gol\u201d in: Triunfo<\/em>. No. 774. 10 December 1977. p. 20).<\/p>\n\u201cI have thought about my most immediate epic horizons and a football league awaits me that I don\u2019t intend to miss. As for TV, I only watch movies and football matches regularly, everything else is a gerund or has an absolute majority.” (\u201cSaviola y Zidane\u201d Intervi\u00fa<\/em>. No. 1319. 6 August 2001. p. 106).<\/p>\nLive football<\/strong>: During my long stay in the Americas, I received a privileged invitation: to attend a Boca Juniors match in the presidential box. It is not a box in the European manner, but glazed, a protected window open to the spectacle of this sweetshop located in one of the most working-class and, in a sense, down at heel neighbourhoods of Buenos Aires\u201d (\u201cBoca, algo m\u00e1s que un club\u201d Intervi\u00fa<\/em>. No. 1181. 14 December 1998. p. 114).<\/p>\nThe feats of Santana<\/strong>: “I like tennis and I like it thanks to television because I belong to the large number of Spaniards who discovered this sport in the sixties, thanks to the television broadcasts of the deeds of the great Santana\u201d (\u201cTennis and television\u201d El Peri\u00f3dico<\/em>. 27 November 1982. p. 43).<\/p>\n<\/div>The pen-name Luis D\u00e1vila<\/strong>: \u201cI thought that name [Luis D\u00e1vila] reminded me of a sports journalist. At that time no Spanish intellectual was able to talk about sport because that seemed to them a mediocre, minor thing, and to report on sport or do sports criticism it would seem as if the rings fell from his fingers, so I looked for a pseudonym that seemed to me to sound like a sports writer\u201d (Roberta Erba. <\/span> Los pseud\u00f3nimos de V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n<\/i>, interview held on 6 June 1994)<\/span><\/a>.<\/p>\nThe duels with Javier Marias<\/strong>: \u201cWhenever a Barcelona-Real Madrid or vice-versa classic came around, they would nearly always drag me and Javier Marias out of our autumn barracks to show our heart so white or so blue and claret\u201d (\u201cAdi\u00f3s, Bar\u00e7a, adi\u00f3s\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/i>. 13 October 1999. p. 64).<\/p>\n<\/div>Publications about the Barcelona Olympic Games<\/strong>: \u201cAs the Olympic Games grew closer, I received journalists and social theologians from all over the world who sought in me a critical Virgil of the city and the relationship between the city and the games\u201d (\u201cEl loro y los Juegos Ol\u00edmpicos\u201d. Profil<\/i>. 14 September 1992. No pagination).<\/p>\nLe Monde Diplomatique<\/em> and footbal<\/strong>l: \u201cThe fact that a publication conventionally so serious and so aware of what is necessary news as Le Monde Diplomatique should devote a monographic issue to football just a few months ago shows the importance that this secular godless religion is acquiring, one that is endowed with a rigorous ritutal and worrying ends. In the piece that Le Monde Diplomatique asked me to contribute, I took as my starting point the evidence that Berlusconi would probably never have become prime minister of Italy without the help of the Milan of Van Basten, Gullit and Rijkaard\u201d (\u201cEl f\u00fatbol, una religi\u00f3n sin Dios\u201d.\u00a0 <\/span>Intervi\u00fa<\/i>. No. 1124. 10 November 1997. p. 122). This article was published in August 1997 with the title \u201cEl f\u00fatbol: una religi\u00f3n civil en busca de un Dios (football – a civil religion in search of a God<\/span><\/a>\u201d.<\/p>\nL\u2019\u00c9quipe<\/i> and sport<\/strong>: \u201cThe newspaper L’\u00c9quipe<\/i> asks a series of politicians and intellectuals to state their views about the meaning of sport at the end of the century, the end of the millennium\u201d. (\u201cL\u2019esport<\/span><\/a>\u201d. Avui<\/i>. 18 December 1999. p. 19).<\/p>\n<\/div>![\"\"](\"https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/2.Novella-negra_18-189x300.jpg\")
The advertising of matches in the local bakery<\/strong>: \u201cI remember the first thing I would see when I went out of my house was a bakery that was right in front, that always had a poster, with a very nice illustration of Bar\u00e7a’s next match against whomever it was…\u201d (Georges Tyras. Geometr\u00edas de la memoria.<\/em> Granada: Zoela, 2003, p. 41).<\/p>\n\u201cThere was Carvalho in front of the cemetery gate, in a silent dialogue with the old glory, a piece of the collage of his childhood when they reproduced it as a slogan of the posters announcing the Sunday matches, hooked behind the windows of the most crowded establishments on the street: the mandatory bakery of mandatory post-war black bread or the dry cleaner\u2019s where the four daughters of Mrs. Remei bloomed. Four breasts in bloom that roamed the street under the rain of lewd whistles, co-owners of flesh unbecoming of a post-war of a general and equally mandatory rationing\u201d (El delantero centro fue asesinado al atardecer<\/em>. Barcelona: Planeta, 1988, p. 141).<\/p>\nPolitical and social identification<\/strong>: \u201cIn the Raval neighbourhood and in the Barrio Chino, the native Catalan workers and those descended from migrants were mixed together. And to cohabit precisely means to know that there is one who is different, because they talk differently and they have different habits and customs, other symbolic referents that you feed on little by little, such as Barcelona football club, for example.\u201d (Georges Tyras. Geometr\u00edas de la memoria.<\/em> Granada: Zoela, 2003, p. 40-41).<\/p>\n\u201cWhen at school we commented on the results, I already knew that it was a team that was, let’s say persecuted, because it had been a Catalanist team, the Francoists had executed its president in 1936, and a Barcelona team had gone around the world playing matches and promoting the Republic, just like another from club in Bilbao; Some of those footballers were later exiled. You assimilated all that in a diffuse way and took it on board as a sign of participation in the country\u201d (Georges Tyras. Geometr\u00edas de la memoria<\/em>. Granada: Zoela, 2003, p. 41).<\/p>\nFC Barcelona in his sentimental education and cultural admixture<\/strong>: Poem Visualizaciones sin\u00f3pticas (end of the poem \u201cVisualizaciones sin\u00f3pticas\u201d, included in Escritos subnormales<\/em>).<\/p>\nThe songs of his childhood<\/strong>: \u201cIn a neighbourhood now called Raval, it even has its own Rambla, and which then was called Chino or disrict V, it was impossible to sing The International<\/em> or La Varsoviana<\/em> or Els segadors<\/em>, songs for Republican times. But we did sing in pure \u2018charnego\u2019 [Catalan influenced by Castilian as spoken by economic migrants from other parts of Spain – pejorative]: If a dove comes to your window\/treat it kindly because it’s from Barcelona\/If a little owl comes to your window\/hit it with a stick it’s from Espanyol. Or we would recite: There are six things in this world that shine brighter than the sun \/ the six cups of Barcelona and the shit of Espanyol (\u201cKubala, entre Gamper y Cruyff\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 18 May 2002. p. 42).<\/p>\nKubala<\/strong>: \u201cI was impressed by Kubala, the first wizard of the ball for those of us who had not seen Samitier play\u201d (\u201cManuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n\u201d. Pere Ferreres. Cien a\u00f1os azulgrana: entrevistas a la sombra del Camp Nou. Madrid: El Pa\u00eds<\/em>-Aguilar, 1998, p. 203).<\/p>\nThe Bar\u00e7a of the 5 Cups<\/strong>: \u201cWhen I got out of that strange club (jail), I went through a period of football non-belief, until I asked myself: which is more stupid, to believe in Basora, C\u00e9sar, Kubala, Moreno and Manch\u00f3n or in Carrillo and el Guti? I decided to believe in Bar\u00e7a and to study very closely the politics that affected me, but always, always, based on the evidence that neither history, nor life, nor Europe were what we deserved\u201d (\u201cCredo\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 21 May 1992. p. 54).<\/p>\n<\/div>To Les Corts with some family members from the neighbourhood<\/strong>: \u201cI went many times with my relatives to see \u201cBar\u00e7a\u201d play at the old Les Corts ground. There were seasons when I didn’t miss a match\u201d (\u201cBar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a\u201d. Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. No. 802. 30 March 1971. No pagination).<\/p>\n\u201cI used to go to Les Corts [football ground] because a wholesaler who was a part relative of mine had a member’s card. \u201dI didn’t need it and I generally sneaked into the zone where the crowd pushed en masse\u201d <\/i>(\u201cBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u201d. Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 156).<\/p>\n
To the Camp Nou with a group of friends and his father-in-law’s member’s card<\/strong>: \u201cI stopped going to the stadium for a several years. From 1964 I started going again, and since then I have renewed my father-in-law\u2019s member’s card every year; he has number eight thousand and something. My wife also has a really low member’s number. I still have my father-in-law\u2019s member’s card because he can’t go to the ground any more and he would be very upset if I were to take out a new one, as he is a real \u201ccul\u00e9\u201d (a diehard Bar\u00e7a fan). I go to the \u201cCamp Nou\u201d with my wife and a group of friends, who are lecturers at the Autonomous University \u2013 Sergi Beser, Pep Termes, Jordi Argent\u00e9…\u201d (\u201cBar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a\u201d. Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. No. 802. 30 March 1971. No pagination).<\/p>\nFrom the terraces to the President’s box<\/strong>: \u201cWhen I started going to football, I used to go to the Les Corts ground; now I go to the upper main grandstand and, unlike Mr. Baret, I have completely forgotten those times, because in the grandstand you are much more comfortable and, on the other hand, it is one of the few places in the country where the police treat you with respect\u201d (\u00abV\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n, president del Bar\u00e7a?\u00bb<\/a>. Oriflama<\/i>. No. 93. March 1970. p. 25).<\/p>\nThe admiration of technical and skilful players<\/strong>: \u201cI’ve burst many a blood vessel for Reixach and for Su\u00e1rez. The Bar\u00e7a crowd also liked the players with the foreheads tinged red with martyrdom, those who sweated the shirt, and barely appreciated those who have fun playing” (\u201cLa esquizofrenia del entrenador\u201d. El Pa\u00eds. 22 October 1995. p. 14).<\/p>\n“I’m seasoned by life and football fields and I, who have seen Kubala dribble with his hips, Eulogio Mart\u00ednez dribble sideways, Di Stefano reinvent the football field with his imagination or disguise himself as a post, Cruyff score goals with his fringe, I regretted the other day never wearing \u2013 but never \u2013 a hat to take off when I saw Romario leaving Osasuna\u2019s goalkeeper beaten and lonely with a perfect chip”. (\u201cEsplendor en la yerba\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 10 October 1993. p. 44).<\/p>\n\u201cAnd now I adore De la Pe\u00f1a, who is brilliant and bonkers. I remember one day, Robson was the manager, when Ivan tried a great pass, Robson came off the bench to see it. When he missed, he turned to the bench with his hands on his head to show that he was mad. But Ivan tried it again later and he got it right\u201d (\u201cBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u201d. Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a<\/em> . Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 146).<\/p>\nThe post-match discussions in his home in Les Corts<\/strong>: \u201cThere were also people in the PSUC who enjoyed football, like Pepe Termes or Fontana, and every time we went to the stadium, after the game we would comment on the plays at home, and I realised that I wasn’t so heterodox. (\u201cManuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n\u201d. Pere Ferreres. Cien a\u00f1os azulgrana: entrevistas a la sombra del Camp Nou<\/em> (A hundred years of blue and red: interviews in the shadow of the Camp Nou stadium). Madrid: El Pa\u00eds-Aguilar, 1998, p. 203).<\/p>\n\u201cAnd when the match was over, the meetings we held at home, with Borja de Riquer, Pep Termes, Josep Fontana, Jordi Argent\u00e9, and sometimes Jordi Sol\u00e9 Tura, among other centre-forwards. There was a lot of drinking, a lot of arguing, and little was resolved.\u201d (Daniel V\u00e1zquez Sall\u00e9s. \u201cM\u00e1s que un adoqu\u00edn\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 1 June 2003. p. 51).<\/p>\n<\/div>Supporting Barcelona, a secular religion<\/strong>: \u201cHowever, I have always said that I preferred to be religious in football so as not to have to be religious in love, in politics, or in religion. Each to his own faith. Like Serrat, I believe in Basora, C\u00e9sar, Kubala, Moreno and Manch\u00f3n\u201d (\u201cEl Bar\u00e7a \u00e9s el nostre club\u201d. Ramon Barnils (Ed). Dec\u00e0leg del cul\u00e9<\/em> (The Ten Commandments of the FC Barcelona supporter). Barcelona: Columna, 1992, p. 17).<\/p>\n\u201cImpossible to forget that the celebration of the Centenary of Barcelona FC has begun, an institution that I declare I support for the same reasons that Joan Manuel Serrat does. We are both kids from the block and we became Bar\u00e7a supporters because in the shops in the country when we were boys there were posters depicting how Samitier would dribble past a player, any player, of Espa\u00f1ol. We both became Bar\u00e7a fans thanks to the deeds of Basra, C\u00e9sar, Kubala, Moreno and Manch\u00f3n. And we still are because Bar\u00e7a was the symbolic army of an idea of what it means to be Catalan that is of the people, secular, with no need to go on a pilgrimage to any mountain other than the terraces of the Camp de les Corts or the Camp Nou\u201d (\u201cEl Bar\u00e7a del desencuentro\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 28 November 1998. p. 46).<\/p>\n\u201cWe agnostics have to be given a chance to believe in something, and I take it by believing firmly in the revealed truth of Barcelona Football Club.\u201d (\u201cL\u2019esport\u201d. Avui<\/em>. 18 December 1999. p. 19).<\/p>\nAlways with an eye on his team’s results<\/strong>: \u201cAnd the thing is that, since childhood, an important part of my calendar has been prefixed by national football competitions and the role that my favourite team played in them. I know that the worst thing that can happen to an intellectual is to know which part of his brain has a limp, so it is in football as in politics. There’s nothing we can do about it. My fate was decided long ago\u201d (\u201cLa Copa\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 21 June 1985. Last page).<\/p>\n\u201cI confess that I sometimes, when I have thought about death, fretted about the impossibility of knowing how Bar\u00e7a would do in the League. For me, dying meant never again to know who had won the League, and to fear the last critical-biographical comment that Rafael Conte would doubtless dedicate to me in EL PA\u00cdS\u201d (\u201cVolver a empezar\u201d. El Pa\u00eds, Deportes<\/em>. 28 August 1989. p. 12).<\/p>\nFollowing Bar\u00e7a’s matches on the radio<\/strong>: \u201cThe first time that Bar\u00e7a lost the European Cup, I was in prison, doing my anti-Francoist duty, but attentive to the football results that were broadcast on the loudspeakers in the prison yard of the Modelo\u201d (\u201cCredo\u201d in: El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 21 May 1992. p. 54).<\/p>\n\u201cWhatever happens I will find out about the result tomorrow, from the confidence given to me by the circumstance of having heard in a tent, in the Sahara, the magical goal of Rivaldo that qualified us to play the Champions League\u201d (\u201cTot el camp \u00e9s un clam!\u201d in: Op. cit. p. 21).<\/p>\n
Following Bar\u00e7a’s matches in his travels<\/strong>: “To give you some idea, I was giving some talks at the University of San Diego, in California, and I wanted to know what Bar\u00e7a had done. Some students who joined the course, through the Internet, managed to tell me what was happening.” (\u201cBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u201d. Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a.<\/em> Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 154).<\/p>\n\u201cOn a recent visit to present the Dutch version of Gal\u00edndez, I had reserved a sacred space for myself to witness Galatasaray-Barcelona broadcast live on Dutch television.” (\u201cEn un momento dado\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 11 December 1993. p. 28).<\/p>\n“I witnessed in Havana that famous match in which Valencia came back from three goals behind Barcelona and when the ch\u00e9s [Valencia] scored the fourth goal, a Spaniard who was next to me, stood up in ecstasy and shouted: Viva Espa\u00f1a!\u201d (\u201cNaranjas, naranjitos y naranjazos\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 2 May 2000. p. 53).<\/p>\nAn international landmark of Barcelona-ism<\/strong>: “A Swiss television crew was travelling around Barcelona filming the city and its literatures and, suddenly, its members came across the events of La Rambla and began to ask questions. What do these kids want, revolution? (…) But they still didn\u2019t understand the flags, the patriotism in whose name the hooliganism could be made. Having to give them a justification I heard myself reciting the old speech about the identification of Catalonia with Bar\u00e7a, and I found my speech unconvincing. (\u201cNueve d\u00edas y medio\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 20 May 1989. p. 27).<\/p>\n\u201cIn Holland they have asked me for my opinion of Cruyff on the occasion of his 50th anniversary.\u201d (\u201cPost-Cruyffism\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 20 April 1997. p. 48).<\/p>\n<\/div>A medium with the history of Catalonia<\/strong>: “The team of Barcelona Football Club, of Bar\u00e7a, also acts as a medium. But I dare say that, after the spiritualist contact with victory or defeat, there remains a further contact, so subtle that it remains at the level of foreboding: but certainly evident to anyone who has been in Catalonia not just passing through. The medium establishes contact with nothing more and nothing less than the history of the Catalan people itself.” (Bar\u00e7a! Bar\u00e7a! Bar\u00e7a!<\/span><\/a>\u201d. Triunfo<\/i>. No. 386. 25 October 1969. p. 25).<\/p>\nFrom the publication on the cover of the magazine Triomf of Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, endorsements were written to me by monks from Montserrat to aspiring general secretaries of the PSUC and intellectuals in self-exile in Paris, as well as Oriol Bohigas and Salvador Espiru, letters that I received as if they were a lifetime safe-conduct for all the galaxies of Catalan-ness\u201d <\/i>(\u201cTot el camp \u00e9s un clam!<\/span><\/a><\/span>\u201d<\/span>. Avui<\/i>. 14 June 2003. p. 21).<\/p>\nA badge of identity<\/strong>: “But I believe, I firmly believe, that the significance of Bar\u00e7a beyond sport is loaded with congenital innocence. Peoples need signs of identity, especially those peoples who have lived in permanent risk of losing them, and Bar\u00e7a is above all a sign of identity.” (\u201cEl Bar\u00e7a is different\u201d. Tele\/eXpr\u00e9s<\/i>. 8 April 1974. p. 4).<\/p>\nThe army of a disarmed country<\/strong>: “Everything that didn\u2019t sit well with the official and absolute truth of Francoism became a fact of objective opposition and the Barcelona football team polarised the nationalist desires of the Catalans, as if it were the unarmed army of a country with its identity crushed by the victor in the civil war.” (V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n, Manuel. \u00abBar\u00e7a: el ej\u00e9rcito de un pa\u00eds desarmado<\/span><\/a>\u00bb. Catal\u00f2nia, 1987, N\u00fam. 1, p. 45)<\/p>\nThe symbolic disarmed army of Catalan nationalism:<\/strong>
\n\u201cWhy does Bast\u00e9 de Linyola think he’s interesting?<\/p>\nHe’s a politician, a more or less frustrated one. He wanted to put the economy, democracy, Catalonia in order, and now he wants to order the epic sentimentality of this country by returning to the club its character as an unarmed symbolic army of what it means to be Catalan.\u201d (El delantero centro fue asesinado al atardecer<\/i>. Barcelona: Planeta, 1988, p. 92).<\/p>\n
\u201cMr Robson has used my keen observation that Bar\u00e7a is the army of Catalonia, minimising it, because in fact my cognitive proposal was more complete: it\u2019s the symbolic and unarmed army of Catalonia\u201d (\u201cEl sofriment<\/span><\/a>\u201d. Avui<\/i>. 19 April 1997. p. 20).<\/p>\nA disarmed memory<\/strong>:\u201cFounded by Joan Gamper the Noi del Sucre brought the masses the bosses the designer stand a girl from Torroja would sing to the boy of the moon from Madrid the heart so white \u2026\u201d (\u00abDesarmado ej\u00e9rcito simb\u00f3lico de una memoria desarmada\u00bb<\/a>. El Pa\u00eds. 7 May 1998. p. 43).<\/p>\nInternational repercussion<\/strong>: \u201cPerhaps the phenomenon is explained by the fact that in those years Catalan nationalism resurfaced in the face of the crisis of the Spanish centralist state, nationalism driven by the development of the Catalan industrial bourgeoisie and crisis of the Spanish state aggravated by the loss of the remains of the Empire. F\u00fatbol Club Barcelona is immediately adopted as the epic expression of the Catalan national renaissance. Catalonia has a language, a culture of its own, a sovereign historical tradition during the late Middle Ages and the Renaissance, a native cuisine but it does not have a state or an army. Something paired with a state is pursued through the autonomic or federalist claim, but there is no other possibility of an army than the eleven pairs of boots of the Barcelona players, “El Bar\u00e7a” according to the apocope that popularises the name of the club\u201d (\u201cEl Barcelona F. C.: algo m\u00e1s que un club\u201d, Sport International<\/i>, September 1987, page numbers unknown).<\/p>\n\u201cBarcelona F. C. is something more than a club\u2019. This phrase was spoken by a president of Barcelona [football club] shortly before Franco died and expressed the opinion of many thousands and thousands of Catalans, convinced that their favourite football club is a national symbol of Catalonia, as the Virgin of Chestokova is a national symbol for the Poles. Indirect symbolic elements flourish under dictatorships because the symbolic elements of identity are usually forbidden. Was Barcelona then \u201csomething more than a club?\u201d I think so.\u201d<\/i> (\u201cEl Barcelona F.C.: algo m\u00e1s que un club\u201d Merian, 14 October 1991, page numbers unknown).<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is already known even in Europe, where until recently they knew nothing about Spain, that Barcelona Football Club, Bar\u00e7a, is more than a club, it is the unarmed symbolic army of what it means to be Catalan.\u201d (\u201cUn drama de la globalizaci\u00f3n. Los problemas de identidad del Club de F\u00fatbol Barcelona\u201d. La Reppublica, Settimanale<\/i>. 5 November 1999. No pagination).<\/p>\n<\/div>Film Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a<\/i><\/strong>: “The origin of the film can be traced back to that extraordinary report published a year and a half ago by Manolo V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n in the magazine Triunfo<\/i> with the same title of “Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a” and that had such wide repercussions at the time. Manolo tells us that the idea of filming the film came to Jaume Lor\u00e9s during the triumphalist era of the League, at a time when Barcelona seemed to be going to win the Championship easily.\u201d <\/i>( \u00abBar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a\u00bb<\/a>. Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. No. 802. 30 March 1971. No pagination).<\/p>\nBook on the history of FC Barcelona<\/strong>: \u201cThe work undertaken by a group of outstanding Catalan university students to collect in a book the various aspects of the socio-cultural impact of FC Barcelona constitutes, in all likelihood, an unprecedented research effort in the history of football\u201d (\u201cLos 75 a\u00f1os del Bar\u00e7a en un libro\u201d. Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. No. 954. 26 February 1974. No pagination).<\/p>\nFilm El fantasma del estadio<\/strong>:<\/i> \u201cThrough these lines, I would like to inform you, as President of the Organising Committee of FC Barcelona’s Centenary Events, our sincere support for the project, which you so worthily direct, to make a film about our Club, as well as its inclusion in the Centenary Events Programme. In addition, we also agree that the renowned writer Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n should be the person to write the script for this film”. (Letter from Josep Caminal, Vice President of FC Barcelona and President of the Organising Committee of Centenary Events, dated 2 December 1996).<\/p>\n<\/div>![\"\"](\"https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_15__2-300x203.png\")
<\/strong>A privilege of age: \u201cAge grants no privileges and even less from the age of fifty. From that age, we only have to forget that we suffer from it. Pay it no heed or, if there is no other choice, be more lenient with our tendency to betrayal. Lately I have betrayed Groucho’s order twice: I became a member of Bar\u00e7a last July, and now I let you make me a doctor” (\u201cSobre la incomunicaci\u00f3 en la societat global\u201d. Doctor Honoris Causa Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n. Bellaterra: Publications service of the Autonomous University of Barcelona, 1997).<\/p>\nHomage at Camp Nou<\/strong><\/p>\n
His Bar\u00e7a style is rooted in the sentimental landscape of his childhood in the Raval neighbourhood, in the legend of the Bar\u00e7a of the Five Cups and in going to see matches, first, in the Les Corts stadium with relatives and, later, in the Camp Nou with a group of intellectuals of the anti-Franco left.<\/p>\n
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His apt and original explanation of what is “more than a club” with the phrase “unarmed symbolic army of Catalonia” made a great impact. He participated in various projects of the club and made known its political and social significance beyond our borders. Always eager to know the results of his team from any corner of the planet, he finally decided to become a shareholder. The tribute held at the Camp Nou on the day of his death and the creation of the “Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n International Journalism Award” are a testament to the importance of his figure and his legacy as an intellectual, sports journalist and cul\u00e9 fan.<\/p>\n
[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_padding=”0px||||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”||2em||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
MVM Sports<\/em> Library<\/h2>\n[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” width=”100%” max_width=”100%” custom_margin=”0px||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”0px||0px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][dsm_card_carousel centered_slides=”on” slide_to_show=”4″ equal_height=”on” dots=”off” module_class=”c” _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”0px||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”0px||0px||false|false” animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_6-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_6-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Jorge Valdano. Football stories<\/em>. Alfaguara. 1994<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_19.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_19.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
\u00c1ngel Bahamonde. El Real Madrid en la historia de Espa\u00f1a<\/em>. Taurus. 1995.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_7-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_7-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Bill Bufford. Entre los v\u00e1ndalos<\/em>. Anagrama. 1992.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_8-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_8-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Johan Cruyff. Me gusta el f\u00fatbol<\/em>. RBA Libros. 2002.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_9-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_9-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Alfredo Di St\u00e9fano. Gracias, vieja. The memories of the greatest soccer myth<\/em>. Aguilar. 2000.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_10.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_10.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Eduardo Galeano. El f\u00fatbol a sol y a sombra<\/em>. Siglo xxi Editores. 1994.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_11-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_11-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Antonio Gallego. Literatura de tema deportivo<\/em>. Spanish Press. 1969.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_12.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_12.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Bernard Gillet. Historia del deporte<\/em>. Oikos-Tau. 1971.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_13.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_13.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Duncan Shaw. F\u00fatbol y franquismo<\/em>. Alianza Editorial. 1987.<\/p>\n[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][\/dsm_card_carousel][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”||0px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”||0px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text admin_label=”seleccio_textos_title” module_class=”seleccio_textos_title” _builder_version=”4.22.1″ _module_preset=”default” header_2_text_color=”#020B11″ header_2_font_size=”4em” custom_margin=”||-21px||false|false” animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
Selection of texts<\/h2>\n
[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” background_color=”#020B11″ global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
<\/div>Playing sport<\/div><\/div><\/div>\n\t\t\t\tPlaying sport<\/i><\/div>A bad sports education<\/strong>: “Our bad sentimental education became bad sports education, worse, impossible sports education. Only in schools from the urban waist up did they know what a stopwatch was for and years later, when the educational authorities tried to impose “sport” in neighbourhood schools, located in flats and with no other possible teacher than the principal’s skinniest daughter, the one who did the business was the nearest carpenter, responsible for making a vault, for example, by eye or ear, with the obvious risk that an entire class of schoolchildren like us would lose on their backs the future possibility of a career as Japanese sex athletes”<\/p>\n“Opening your eyes to the sense of muscle in the post-war period was not stimulating. The only sports facilities for the common folk were the vacant plots opened by the bombs, improvised football fields for balls made of rags, tin or rubber and, instead of showers, some hydrants or those fountains of Barcelona\u201d (\u201cCr\u00f3nica sentimental de la musculature\u201d. in: Olimpiada Cultural<\/em>, 16 November 1990. No pagination.).<\/p>\nFootball on vacant sites on the outskirts of the city<\/strong>: \u201cWhen we were kids, between Barcelona and l\u2019Hospitalet there were twenty kilometres of vacant sites. In Montju\u00efc, the Expo exhibition halls that had collapsed were esplanades where we went to play football\u201d (\u201cBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u201d in: Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a<\/em>. Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 152).<\/p>\nFootball among paving-stones<\/strong>: “Marcet, a very fine winger who once kicked a ball that someone gave him in a street (you could play football in the streets then), a mate of knock-abouts. Marcet took the ball, passed it from one foot to the other, flipped it to one shoulder, then to the head, dropped it on the tip of one foot… in short, he showed ball control. After the event there was a division of opinions. The most radical wing of the little band gathered there reproached the one who had passed the ball to Marcet for fraternising with the enemy. But, fortunately, the moderate majority prevailed and Marcet, despite being an Espa\u00f1ol supporter, entered our mental Olympus and during the years that remained of friendship and adolescence we remember that day when Marcet passed through our cobblestone stadium.\u201d(\u201cEnemigos para siempre\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>, Deportes, 29 November 1992, p. 48).<\/p>\nThe Flors de Maig 11-a-side football team<\/strong>: “The Flors de Maig (Mayflowers) team was made up of people who worked with publishers (Planeta, Salvat, Enciclop\u00e8dia catalana, Larousse), as well as some young university students. Two teams were set up, I don’t know how, one was the Mayflowers, which was called Atl\u00e9tico Marxista and we were in red, and another was the Real Acrata who were in black and was the team we normally played against. Here there were many diverse people, even a professor who was vice-rector of the University of Barcelona and Enric Fust\u00e9, financial advisor to Manolo and who appears in Carvalho, Jordi Borja, Sol\u00e9 Tura, it was a mixture of people from the publishing and the political worlds. We normally played on Saturday or Sunday mornings. I remember a significant anecdote. We went to play in La Verneda, in Poblenou, a working-class neighbourhood, adjacent to the ground of La Bota. We were playing and there was one thing that was striking even though we didn’t lend it any importance was that looking at both teams possibly three-quarters of the players wore beards, because it was a time when long hair was in style, and someone in the crowd said “these teams spend less on barbers than the Russians on catechisms”. It was striking because it wasn’t the run of the mill teams of young people in the neighbourhood, but people from the publishing world, usually left-wingers, who ended up calling and saying we need eleven to play… I remember these matches that were held from time to time, I remember taking part two or three times a year, mostly in the spring.\u201d (testimony of Borja de Riquer).<\/p>\nFutsal team with the colleagues of the CAU magazine <\/strong>
\n<\/p>\nCentre-forward position<\/strong>
\n\u00abE.V.-M (Enrique Vila-Matas): What position did you play in, Manolo?<\/p>\nMVM: I was a centre-forward because I was a bit heavy, I led the charge…<\/p>\n
E.V.-M: Who were you like?<\/p>\n
MVM: It was what they called the \u201cSpanish fury\u201d. I was a buffer, but from time to time I scored goals\u00bb <\/p>\n
(\u00abBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u00bb. aavv. Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a<\/em>. Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 153)<\/p>\nPing-pong in El Carmen parish:
\n\u00abI remember that at that time if you wanted to have a place to hold meetings you could only join the Youth Front or the local Catholic Centre. And I signed up for the Catholic Centre of the El Carme parish.
\nBy the way, I often bumped into Benet and Jornet there, and Antoni von Kirchner. They would meet there to play ping-pong.\u00bb
\n(Quim Aranda. \u00abQu\u00e8 pensa Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n\u00bb. Interviwed by Quim Aranda. Barcelona: D\u00e8ria Editors, 1995, p. 27) <\/p>\n
Physical exercise in the Centro Gimn\u00e1stico Barcelon\u00e9s<\/strong><\/p>\nPoem \u201cB\u00edceps, tr\u00edceps\u201d
\n\u201cB\u00edceps, tr\u00edceps\u2026
\nHe had died
\nwhen attempting to do a handstand
\non two lacklustre stools,
\n drops of lemonade
\nor indentation, sweaty hands of couples
\nbetween one Sunday dance and another
\non the outskirts, picnic areas
\nwith yellow papers and purple
\ngarlands
\n But no one silenced the squeal
\nof the pulley, nor did it stop spinning
\non the fixed bar, not did the vault rear up
\nat the reckless jumps of artistic
\ngymnasts
\n and in front of the mirror, biceps
\ntriceps with rusty weights, deficient
\nneighbourhood gym equipment
\nimprove the race
\nexpensive project of informative leaflets
\nbiceps and triceps from seven in the morning,
\nturners, die makers, carpenters
\neven heirs to grocery stores,
\ndry cleaners, electrical accessories,
\nnuts
\n the son of the local pharmacist raised
\nthe rope with a half-iron unassisted
\n and in the summer
\nI made love on the sand with disenchanted Swedish women
\nwhite thighs and small breasts
\nsomewhat sad, somewhat rich, somewhat frigid in Sweden,
\nin Spain dazzled by the sun, Spain
\nis different and the biceps of stallions
\nwarm as a whispered song \u2013 the girl
\nfrom Puerto Rico, for whom do you sigh?
\n They sighed.
\nrhythmically -breathe in-breathe out-biceps-triceps-
\nor exchanged obscene words, obscene gestures
\nwith girls somewhat made up, fishnet stockings
\nand blue, pink, home-knitted cardigan,
\nThey learned cutting and tailoring in the windows
\nclose, uselessly blushing because of an
\nunforeseen sex peering from the window
\n between biceps
\nand triceps, raised curious eyes
\ntowards the terrace
\nwhere serious, like vegetarians,
\nthe supporters of Swedish gymnastics,
\nhigh school children, round-bellied paterfamilias,
\nAspirants and Instructors of Accion
\nCatolica, men with principles and readings
\ngraduates, Muller, Swedish gymnastics
\nand Health, rites, one two, one two or ow, or ow,
\nthe teacher raised his hands towards the mist,
\non the grey tiles of unwashable green beans,
\nunder the TV aerials, the cry of distant sirens in the port, in the factories<\/p>\n
\u00abLas ocho y media de la ma\u00f1ana en la Ciudad Condal\u00bb. Una educaci\u00f3n sentimental. Barcelona: El Bardo, 1967, p. 24-26<\/p>\n<\/div>
Enthusiasm for sport<\/i><\/div>Boxing during his childhood<\/strong>: \u201cWe all belong to the country of our childhood and I am from the nineteen-forties. There was a young boxer who had won the golden glove before the war and who tried to throw a hard punch to gain the victory that he would never achieve.\u201d (Luis Lopez Doy (dir.). Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n: el \u00e9xito de un perdedor<\/em>. Madrid: Televisi\u00f3n Espa\u00f1ola, 1997). If we can obtain the video, it can be included as an audiovisual resource.<\/p>\nYoung Serra<\/strong>: \u201cAnother name I think is important is Young Serra, the name of the boxer who appears in El Pianista<\/em> and is also the main character of the short story \u201cDesde los tejados\u201d, in \u201cHistorias de familia<\/em>\u201d. (\u2026) At that time there was a featherweight boxer in Spain called Young Mart\u00edn and he was scrawny, like half a kilo of boxer, but he won fights, he was the European featherweight champion.\u201d (Georges Tyras. Geometr\u00edas de la memoria<\/em>. Granada: Zoela, 2003, p. 143-144).<\/p>\nYoung Serra’s training in El pianista<\/em>:
\n\u201cThe other one runs over the burnt bricks, marked by the urine of the dogs that have left behind their shit burnt by the suns that the dancing runner uses as obstacles for the fencing-like tension of his steel legs, like steel cables, Andr\u00e9s comments mentally when he sees him leap and jump and make movements to pivot and strike his own shadow.<\/p>\nYou’re going to make yourself ill if you keep training like this and eating the rations they give us, Young. Stop now, damn it, Young.
\nBut Young, Young Serra, “golden glove” champion of the bantamweights of Barcelona, flits around Andr\u00e9s and even pretends to hit him, bringing his fist two centimetres from his chin.<\/p>\n
\u201cOne of these days you’re going to hit me.\u201d (El pianista<\/em>, p. 87).<\/p>\nThe cycling epic<\/strong>: “We love cycling those who since the time of Bernardo Ruiz turned it into an epic cutout on the school desk, and the giants of the route were just that, the giants of the route, without anyone asking them for explanations about gasoline or wood gas, in the case of the Spaniards, who guzzled it down” (“The Tour” El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 9 June 2001. Last page).<\/p>\n“I wish there were a Tour every month, because I know there are other important stage races, but the Tour is the true religion and since the times of Bernardo Ruiz, Koblet and Kubler, I live a whole year obsessed with the Tour and when I am no longer in this supervisory role one of my sadnesses, if I take any with me, will be not knowing what the Delgado of the day has done in the Tour\u201d (\u201cPericomania\u201d Intervi\u00fa<\/em>. No. 690. 1 August 1989. p. 122).<\/p>\nFootball on the radio<\/strong>: \u201cThe comeback of Mat\u00edas Prats is a bit like recovering a childhood. I remember those football broadcasts in which the voice of Mat\u00edas Prats managed to turn Gonzalo III into Siegfried, Basra into the real monster of Colombes and Gainza into a fox impossible to hunt, even the English abstaining\u201d (\u201cThe return of Mat\u00edas Prats\u201d El Peri\u00f3dico<\/em>. 30 May 1981. p. 39).<\/p>\nFootball on television<\/strong>: \u201cAnd one has an elephant\u2019s memory, an immense memory in which one keeps the collective celebratory tone of the victory over England in 1950. They were the same faces, the same vented frustrations, the same desire to give meaning to life and history, since it is not given by the daily exercise of living. I watched the 1950 match surrounded by Spaniards who were diverse in their ideology” (\u201cGol, gol, gol, gol, gol, gol\u201d in: Triunfo<\/em>. No. 774. 10 December 1977. p. 20).<\/p>\n\u201cI have thought about my most immediate epic horizons and a football league awaits me that I don\u2019t intend to miss. As for TV, I only watch movies and football matches regularly, everything else is a gerund or has an absolute majority.” (\u201cSaviola y Zidane\u201d Intervi\u00fa<\/em>. No. 1319. 6 August 2001. p. 106).<\/p>\nLive football<\/strong>: During my long stay in the Americas, I received a privileged invitation: to attend a Boca Juniors match in the presidential box. It is not a box in the European manner, but glazed, a protected window open to the spectacle of this sweetshop located in one of the most working-class and, in a sense, down at heel neighbourhoods of Buenos Aires\u201d (\u201cBoca, algo m\u00e1s que un club\u201d Intervi\u00fa<\/em>. No. 1181. 14 December 1998. p. 114).<\/p>\nThe feats of Santana<\/strong>: “I like tennis and I like it thanks to television because I belong to the large number of Spaniards who discovered this sport in the sixties, thanks to the television broadcasts of the deeds of the great Santana\u201d (\u201cTennis and television\u201d El Peri\u00f3dico<\/em>. 27 November 1982. p. 43).<\/p>\n<\/div>The pen-name Luis D\u00e1vila<\/strong>: \u201cI thought that name [Luis D\u00e1vila] reminded me of a sports journalist. At that time no Spanish intellectual was able to talk about sport because that seemed to them a mediocre, minor thing, and to report on sport or do sports criticism it would seem as if the rings fell from his fingers, so I looked for a pseudonym that seemed to me to sound like a sports writer\u201d (Roberta Erba. <\/span> Los pseud\u00f3nimos de V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n<\/i>, interview held on 6 June 1994)<\/span><\/a>.<\/p>\nThe duels with Javier Marias<\/strong>: \u201cWhenever a Barcelona-Real Madrid or vice-versa classic came around, they would nearly always drag me and Javier Marias out of our autumn barracks to show our heart so white or so blue and claret\u201d (\u201cAdi\u00f3s, Bar\u00e7a, adi\u00f3s\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/i>. 13 October 1999. p. 64).<\/p>\n<\/div>Publications about the Barcelona Olympic Games<\/strong>: \u201cAs the Olympic Games grew closer, I received journalists and social theologians from all over the world who sought in me a critical Virgil of the city and the relationship between the city and the games\u201d (\u201cEl loro y los Juegos Ol\u00edmpicos\u201d. Profil<\/i>. 14 September 1992. No pagination).<\/p>\nLe Monde Diplomatique<\/em> and footbal<\/strong>l: \u201cThe fact that a publication conventionally so serious and so aware of what is necessary news as Le Monde Diplomatique should devote a monographic issue to football just a few months ago shows the importance that this secular godless religion is acquiring, one that is endowed with a rigorous ritutal and worrying ends. In the piece that Le Monde Diplomatique asked me to contribute, I took as my starting point the evidence that Berlusconi would probably never have become prime minister of Italy without the help of the Milan of Van Basten, Gullit and Rijkaard\u201d (\u201cEl f\u00fatbol, una religi\u00f3n sin Dios\u201d.\u00a0 <\/span>Intervi\u00fa<\/i>. No. 1124. 10 November 1997. p. 122). This article was published in August 1997 with the title \u201cEl f\u00fatbol: una religi\u00f3n civil en busca de un Dios (football – a civil religion in search of a God<\/span><\/a>\u201d.<\/p>\nL\u2019\u00c9quipe<\/i> and sport<\/strong>: \u201cThe newspaper L’\u00c9quipe<\/i> asks a series of politicians and intellectuals to state their views about the meaning of sport at the end of the century, the end of the millennium\u201d. (\u201cL\u2019esport<\/span><\/a>\u201d. Avui<\/i>. 18 December 1999. p. 19).<\/p>\n<\/div> The advertising of matches in the local bakery<\/strong>: \u201cI remember the first thing I would see when I went out of my house was a bakery that was right in front, that always had a poster, with a very nice illustration of Bar\u00e7a’s next match against whomever it was…\u201d (Georges Tyras. Geometr\u00edas de la memoria.<\/em> Granada: Zoela, 2003, p. 41).<\/p>\n\u201cThere was Carvalho in front of the cemetery gate, in a silent dialogue with the old glory, a piece of the collage of his childhood when they reproduced it as a slogan of the posters announcing the Sunday matches, hooked behind the windows of the most crowded establishments on the street: the mandatory bakery of mandatory post-war black bread or the dry cleaner\u2019s where the four daughters of Mrs. Remei bloomed. Four breasts in bloom that roamed the street under the rain of lewd whistles, co-owners of flesh unbecoming of a post-war of a general and equally mandatory rationing\u201d (El delantero centro fue asesinado al atardecer<\/em>. Barcelona: Planeta, 1988, p. 141).<\/p>\nPolitical and social identification<\/strong>: \u201cIn the Raval neighbourhood and in the Barrio Chino, the native Catalan workers and those descended from migrants were mixed together. And to cohabit precisely means to know that there is one who is different, because they talk differently and they have different habits and customs, other symbolic referents that you feed on little by little, such as Barcelona football club, for example.\u201d (Georges Tyras. Geometr\u00edas de la memoria.<\/em> Granada: Zoela, 2003, p. 40-41).<\/p>\n\u201cWhen at school we commented on the results, I already knew that it was a team that was, let’s say persecuted, because it had been a Catalanist team, the Francoists had executed its president in 1936, and a Barcelona team had gone around the world playing matches and promoting the Republic, just like another from club in Bilbao; Some of those footballers were later exiled. You assimilated all that in a diffuse way and took it on board as a sign of participation in the country\u201d (Georges Tyras. Geometr\u00edas de la memoria<\/em>. Granada: Zoela, 2003, p. 41).<\/p>\nFC Barcelona in his sentimental education and cultural admixture<\/strong>: Poem Visualizaciones sin\u00f3pticas (end of the poem \u201cVisualizaciones sin\u00f3pticas\u201d, included in Escritos subnormales<\/em>).<\/p>\nThe songs of his childhood<\/strong>: \u201cIn a neighbourhood now called Raval, it even has its own Rambla, and which then was called Chino or disrict V, it was impossible to sing The International<\/em> or La Varsoviana<\/em> or Els segadors<\/em>, songs for Republican times. But we did sing in pure \u2018charnego\u2019 [Catalan influenced by Castilian as spoken by economic migrants from other parts of Spain – pejorative]: If a dove comes to your window\/treat it kindly because it’s from Barcelona\/If a little owl comes to your window\/hit it with a stick it’s from Espanyol. Or we would recite: There are six things in this world that shine brighter than the sun \/ the six cups of Barcelona and the shit of Espanyol (\u201cKubala, entre Gamper y Cruyff\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 18 May 2002. p. 42).<\/p>\nKubala<\/strong>: \u201cI was impressed by Kubala, the first wizard of the ball for those of us who had not seen Samitier play\u201d (\u201cManuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n\u201d. Pere Ferreres. Cien a\u00f1os azulgrana: entrevistas a la sombra del Camp Nou. Madrid: El Pa\u00eds<\/em>-Aguilar, 1998, p. 203).<\/p>\nThe Bar\u00e7a of the 5 Cups<\/strong>: \u201cWhen I got out of that strange club (jail), I went through a period of football non-belief, until I asked myself: which is more stupid, to believe in Basora, C\u00e9sar, Kubala, Moreno and Manch\u00f3n or in Carrillo and el Guti? I decided to believe in Bar\u00e7a and to study very closely the politics that affected me, but always, always, based on the evidence that neither history, nor life, nor Europe were what we deserved\u201d (\u201cCredo\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 21 May 1992. p. 54).<\/p>\n<\/div>To Les Corts with some family members from the neighbourhood<\/strong>: \u201cI went many times with my relatives to see \u201cBar\u00e7a\u201d play at the old Les Corts ground. There were seasons when I didn’t miss a match\u201d (\u201cBar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a\u201d. Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. No. 802. 30 March 1971. No pagination).<\/p>\n\u201cI used to go to Les Corts [football ground] because a wholesaler who was a part relative of mine had a member’s card. \u201dI didn’t need it and I generally sneaked into the zone where the crowd pushed en masse\u201d <\/i>(\u201cBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u201d. Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 156).<\/p>\n
To the Camp Nou with a group of friends and his father-in-law’s member’s card<\/strong>: \u201cI stopped going to the stadium for a several years. From 1964 I started going again, and since then I have renewed my father-in-law\u2019s member’s card every year; he has number eight thousand and something. My wife also has a really low member’s number. I still have my father-in-law\u2019s member’s card because he can’t go to the ground any more and he would be very upset if I were to take out a new one, as he is a real \u201ccul\u00e9\u201d (a diehard Bar\u00e7a fan). I go to the \u201cCamp Nou\u201d with my wife and a group of friends, who are lecturers at the Autonomous University \u2013 Sergi Beser, Pep Termes, Jordi Argent\u00e9…\u201d (\u201cBar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a\u201d. Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. No. 802. 30 March 1971. No pagination).<\/p>\nFrom the terraces to the President’s box<\/strong>: \u201cWhen I started going to football, I used to go to the Les Corts ground; now I go to the upper main grandstand and, unlike Mr. Baret, I have completely forgotten those times, because in the grandstand you are much more comfortable and, on the other hand, it is one of the few places in the country where the police treat you with respect\u201d (\u00abV\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n, president del Bar\u00e7a?\u00bb<\/a>. Oriflama<\/i>. No. 93. March 1970. p. 25).<\/p>\nThe admiration of technical and skilful players<\/strong>: \u201cI’ve burst many a blood vessel for Reixach and for Su\u00e1rez. The Bar\u00e7a crowd also liked the players with the foreheads tinged red with martyrdom, those who sweated the shirt, and barely appreciated those who have fun playing” (\u201cLa esquizofrenia del entrenador\u201d. El Pa\u00eds. 22 October 1995. p. 14).<\/p>\n“I’m seasoned by life and football fields and I, who have seen Kubala dribble with his hips, Eulogio Mart\u00ednez dribble sideways, Di Stefano reinvent the football field with his imagination or disguise himself as a post, Cruyff score goals with his fringe, I regretted the other day never wearing \u2013 but never \u2013 a hat to take off when I saw Romario leaving Osasuna\u2019s goalkeeper beaten and lonely with a perfect chip”. (\u201cEsplendor en la yerba\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 10 October 1993. p. 44).<\/p>\n\u201cAnd now I adore De la Pe\u00f1a, who is brilliant and bonkers. I remember one day, Robson was the manager, when Ivan tried a great pass, Robson came off the bench to see it. When he missed, he turned to the bench with his hands on his head to show that he was mad. But Ivan tried it again later and he got it right\u201d (\u201cBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u201d. Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a<\/em> . Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 146).<\/p>\nThe post-match discussions in his home in Les Corts<\/strong>: \u201cThere were also people in the PSUC who enjoyed football, like Pepe Termes or Fontana, and every time we went to the stadium, after the game we would comment on the plays at home, and I realised that I wasn’t so heterodox. (\u201cManuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n\u201d. Pere Ferreres. Cien a\u00f1os azulgrana: entrevistas a la sombra del Camp Nou<\/em> (A hundred years of blue and red: interviews in the shadow of the Camp Nou stadium). Madrid: El Pa\u00eds-Aguilar, 1998, p. 203).<\/p>\n\u201cAnd when the match was over, the meetings we held at home, with Borja de Riquer, Pep Termes, Josep Fontana, Jordi Argent\u00e9, and sometimes Jordi Sol\u00e9 Tura, among other centre-forwards. There was a lot of drinking, a lot of arguing, and little was resolved.\u201d (Daniel V\u00e1zquez Sall\u00e9s. \u201cM\u00e1s que un adoqu\u00edn\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 1 June 2003. p. 51).<\/p>\n<\/div>Supporting Barcelona, a secular religion<\/strong>: \u201cHowever, I have always said that I preferred to be religious in football so as not to have to be religious in love, in politics, or in religion. Each to his own faith. Like Serrat, I believe in Basora, C\u00e9sar, Kubala, Moreno and Manch\u00f3n\u201d (\u201cEl Bar\u00e7a \u00e9s el nostre club\u201d. Ramon Barnils (Ed). Dec\u00e0leg del cul\u00e9<\/em> (The Ten Commandments of the FC Barcelona supporter). Barcelona: Columna, 1992, p. 17).<\/p>\n\u201cImpossible to forget that the celebration of the Centenary of Barcelona FC has begun, an institution that I declare I support for the same reasons that Joan Manuel Serrat does. We are both kids from the block and we became Bar\u00e7a supporters because in the shops in the country when we were boys there were posters depicting how Samitier would dribble past a player, any player, of Espa\u00f1ol. We both became Bar\u00e7a fans thanks to the deeds of Basra, C\u00e9sar, Kubala, Moreno and Manch\u00f3n. And we still are because Bar\u00e7a was the symbolic army of an idea of what it means to be Catalan that is of the people, secular, with no need to go on a pilgrimage to any mountain other than the terraces of the Camp de les Corts or the Camp Nou\u201d (\u201cEl Bar\u00e7a del desencuentro\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 28 November 1998. p. 46).<\/p>\n\u201cWe agnostics have to be given a chance to believe in something, and I take it by believing firmly in the revealed truth of Barcelona Football Club.\u201d (\u201cL\u2019esport\u201d. Avui<\/em>. 18 December 1999. p. 19).<\/p>\nAlways with an eye on his team’s results<\/strong>: \u201cAnd the thing is that, since childhood, an important part of my calendar has been prefixed by national football competitions and the role that my favourite team played in them. I know that the worst thing that can happen to an intellectual is to know which part of his brain has a limp, so it is in football as in politics. There’s nothing we can do about it. My fate was decided long ago\u201d (\u201cLa Copa\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 21 June 1985. Last page).<\/p>\n\u201cI confess that I sometimes, when I have thought about death, fretted about the impossibility of knowing how Bar\u00e7a would do in the League. For me, dying meant never again to know who had won the League, and to fear the last critical-biographical comment that Rafael Conte would doubtless dedicate to me in EL PA\u00cdS\u201d (\u201cVolver a empezar\u201d. El Pa\u00eds, Deportes<\/em>. 28 August 1989. p. 12).<\/p>\nFollowing Bar\u00e7a’s matches on the radio<\/strong>: \u201cThe first time that Bar\u00e7a lost the European Cup, I was in prison, doing my anti-Francoist duty, but attentive to the football results that were broadcast on the loudspeakers in the prison yard of the Modelo\u201d (\u201cCredo\u201d in: El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 21 May 1992. p. 54).<\/p>\n\u201cWhatever happens I will find out about the result tomorrow, from the confidence given to me by the circumstance of having heard in a tent, in the Sahara, the magical goal of Rivaldo that qualified us to play the Champions League\u201d (\u201cTot el camp \u00e9s un clam!\u201d in: Op. cit. p. 21).<\/p>\n
Following Bar\u00e7a’s matches in his travels<\/strong>: “To give you some idea, I was giving some talks at the University of San Diego, in California, and I wanted to know what Bar\u00e7a had done. Some students who joined the course, through the Internet, managed to tell me what was happening.” (\u201cBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u201d. Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a.<\/em> Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 154).<\/p>\n\u201cOn a recent visit to present the Dutch version of Gal\u00edndez, I had reserved a sacred space for myself to witness Galatasaray-Barcelona broadcast live on Dutch television.” (\u201cEn un momento dado\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 11 December 1993. p. 28).<\/p>\n“I witnessed in Havana that famous match in which Valencia came back from three goals behind Barcelona and when the ch\u00e9s [Valencia] scored the fourth goal, a Spaniard who was next to me, stood up in ecstasy and shouted: Viva Espa\u00f1a!\u201d (\u201cNaranjas, naranjitos y naranjazos\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 2 May 2000. p. 53).<\/p>\nAn international landmark of Barcelona-ism<\/strong>: “A Swiss television crew was travelling around Barcelona filming the city and its literatures and, suddenly, its members came across the events of La Rambla and began to ask questions. What do these kids want, revolution? (…) But they still didn\u2019t understand the flags, the patriotism in whose name the hooliganism could be made. Having to give them a justification I heard myself reciting the old speech about the identification of Catalonia with Bar\u00e7a, and I found my speech unconvincing. (\u201cNueve d\u00edas y medio\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 20 May 1989. p. 27).<\/p>\n\u201cIn Holland they have asked me for my opinion of Cruyff on the occasion of his 50th anniversary.\u201d (\u201cPost-Cruyffism\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 20 April 1997. p. 48).<\/p>\n<\/div>A medium with the history of Catalonia<\/strong>: “The team of Barcelona Football Club, of Bar\u00e7a, also acts as a medium. But I dare say that, after the spiritualist contact with victory or defeat, there remains a further contact, so subtle that it remains at the level of foreboding: but certainly evident to anyone who has been in Catalonia not just passing through. The medium establishes contact with nothing more and nothing less than the history of the Catalan people itself.” (Bar\u00e7a! Bar\u00e7a! Bar\u00e7a!<\/span><\/a>\u201d. Triunfo<\/i>. No. 386. 25 October 1969. p. 25).<\/p>\nFrom the publication on the cover of the magazine Triomf of Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, endorsements were written to me by monks from Montserrat to aspiring general secretaries of the PSUC and intellectuals in self-exile in Paris, as well as Oriol Bohigas and Salvador Espiru, letters that I received as if they were a lifetime safe-conduct for all the galaxies of Catalan-ness\u201d <\/i>(\u201cTot el camp \u00e9s un clam!<\/span><\/a><\/span>\u201d<\/span>. Avui<\/i>. 14 June 2003. p. 21).<\/p>\nA badge of identity<\/strong>: “But I believe, I firmly believe, that the significance of Bar\u00e7a beyond sport is loaded with congenital innocence. Peoples need signs of identity, especially those peoples who have lived in permanent risk of losing them, and Bar\u00e7a is above all a sign of identity.” (\u201cEl Bar\u00e7a is different\u201d. Tele\/eXpr\u00e9s<\/i>. 8 April 1974. p. 4).<\/p>\nThe army of a disarmed country<\/strong>: “Everything that didn\u2019t sit well with the official and absolute truth of Francoism became a fact of objective opposition and the Barcelona football team polarised the nationalist desires of the Catalans, as if it were the unarmed army of a country with its identity crushed by the victor in the civil war.” (V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n, Manuel. \u00abBar\u00e7a: el ej\u00e9rcito de un pa\u00eds desarmado<\/span><\/a>\u00bb. Catal\u00f2nia, 1987, N\u00fam. 1, p. 45)<\/p>\nThe symbolic disarmed army of Catalan nationalism:<\/strong>
\n\u201cWhy does Bast\u00e9 de Linyola think he’s interesting?<\/p>\nHe’s a politician, a more or less frustrated one. He wanted to put the economy, democracy, Catalonia in order, and now he wants to order the epic sentimentality of this country by returning to the club its character as an unarmed symbolic army of what it means to be Catalan.\u201d (El delantero centro fue asesinado al atardecer<\/i>. Barcelona: Planeta, 1988, p. 92).<\/p>\n
\u201cMr Robson has used my keen observation that Bar\u00e7a is the army of Catalonia, minimising it, because in fact my cognitive proposal was more complete: it\u2019s the symbolic and unarmed army of Catalonia\u201d (\u201cEl sofriment<\/span><\/a>\u201d. Avui<\/i>. 19 April 1997. p. 20).<\/p>\nA disarmed memory<\/strong>:\u201cFounded by Joan Gamper the Noi del Sucre brought the masses the bosses the designer stand a girl from Torroja would sing to the boy of the moon from Madrid the heart so white \u2026\u201d (\u00abDesarmado ej\u00e9rcito simb\u00f3lico de una memoria desarmada\u00bb<\/a>. El Pa\u00eds. 7 May 1998. p. 43).<\/p>\nInternational repercussion<\/strong>: \u201cPerhaps the phenomenon is explained by the fact that in those years Catalan nationalism resurfaced in the face of the crisis of the Spanish centralist state, nationalism driven by the development of the Catalan industrial bourgeoisie and crisis of the Spanish state aggravated by the loss of the remains of the Empire. F\u00fatbol Club Barcelona is immediately adopted as the epic expression of the Catalan national renaissance. Catalonia has a language, a culture of its own, a sovereign historical tradition during the late Middle Ages and the Renaissance, a native cuisine but it does not have a state or an army. Something paired with a state is pursued through the autonomic or federalist claim, but there is no other possibility of an army than the eleven pairs of boots of the Barcelona players, “El Bar\u00e7a” according to the apocope that popularises the name of the club\u201d (\u201cEl Barcelona F. C.: algo m\u00e1s que un club\u201d, Sport International<\/i>, September 1987, page numbers unknown).<\/p>\n\u201cBarcelona F. C. is something more than a club\u2019. This phrase was spoken by a president of Barcelona [football club] shortly before Franco died and expressed the opinion of many thousands and thousands of Catalans, convinced that their favourite football club is a national symbol of Catalonia, as the Virgin of Chestokova is a national symbol for the Poles. Indirect symbolic elements flourish under dictatorships because the symbolic elements of identity are usually forbidden. Was Barcelona then \u201csomething more than a club?\u201d I think so.\u201d<\/i> (\u201cEl Barcelona F.C.: algo m\u00e1s que un club\u201d Merian, 14 October 1991, page numbers unknown).<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is already known even in Europe, where until recently they knew nothing about Spain, that Barcelona Football Club, Bar\u00e7a, is more than a club, it is the unarmed symbolic army of what it means to be Catalan.\u201d (\u201cUn drama de la globalizaci\u00f3n. Los problemas de identidad del Club de F\u00fatbol Barcelona\u201d. La Reppublica, Settimanale<\/i>. 5 November 1999. No pagination).<\/p>\n<\/div>Film Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a<\/i><\/strong>: “The origin of the film can be traced back to that extraordinary report published a year and a half ago by Manolo V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n in the magazine Triunfo<\/i> with the same title of “Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a” and that had such wide repercussions at the time. Manolo tells us that the idea of filming the film came to Jaume Lor\u00e9s during the triumphalist era of the League, at a time when Barcelona seemed to be going to win the Championship easily.\u201d <\/i>( \u00abBar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a\u00bb<\/a>. Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. No. 802. 30 March 1971. No pagination).<\/p>\nBook on the history of FC Barcelona<\/strong>: \u201cThe work undertaken by a group of outstanding Catalan university students to collect in a book the various aspects of the socio-cultural impact of FC Barcelona constitutes, in all likelihood, an unprecedented research effort in the history of football\u201d (\u201cLos 75 a\u00f1os del Bar\u00e7a en un libro\u201d. Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. No. 954. 26 February 1974. No pagination).<\/p>\nFilm El fantasma del estadio<\/strong>:<\/i> \u201cThrough these lines, I would like to inform you, as President of the Organising Committee of FC Barcelona’s Centenary Events, our sincere support for the project, which you so worthily direct, to make a film about our Club, as well as its inclusion in the Centenary Events Programme. In addition, we also agree that the renowned writer Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n should be the person to write the script for this film”. (Letter from Josep Caminal, Vice President of FC Barcelona and President of the Organising Committee of Centenary Events, dated 2 December 1996).<\/p>\n<\/div><\/strong>A privilege of age: \u201cAge grants no privileges and even less from the age of fifty. From that age, we only have to forget that we suffer from it. Pay it no heed or, if there is no other choice, be more lenient with our tendency to betrayal. Lately I have betrayed Groucho’s order twice: I became a member of Bar\u00e7a last July, and now I let you make me a doctor” (\u201cSobre la incomunicaci\u00f3 en la societat global\u201d. Doctor Honoris Causa Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n. Bellaterra: Publications service of the Autonomous University of Barcelona, 1997).<\/p>\nHomage at Camp Nou<\/strong><\/p>\n
[\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_19.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_19.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
\u00c1ngel Bahamonde. El Real Madrid en la historia de Espa\u00f1a<\/em>. Taurus. 1995.<\/p>\n [\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_7-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_7-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Bill Bufford. Entre los v\u00e1ndalos<\/em>. Anagrama. 1992.<\/p>\n [\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_8-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_8-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Johan Cruyff. Me gusta el f\u00fatbol<\/em>. RBA Libros. 2002.<\/p>\n [\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_9-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_9-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Alfredo Di St\u00e9fano. Gracias, vieja. The memories of the greatest soccer myth<\/em>. Aguilar. 2000.<\/p>\n [\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_10.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_10.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Eduardo Galeano. El f\u00fatbol a sol y a sombra<\/em>. Siglo xxi Editores. 1994.<\/p>\n [\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_11-scaled.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_11-scaled.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Antonio Gallego. Literatura de tema deportivo<\/em>. Spanish Press. 1969.<\/p>\n [\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_12.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_12.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Bernard Gillet. Historia del deporte<\/em>. Oikos-Tau. 1971.<\/p>\n [\/dsm_card_carousel_child][dsm_card_carousel_child module_class=”img_zoom_onhover” image=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_13.jpg” image_background_height=”500px” image_background_position=”center_right” image_popup=”on” image_popup_src=”https:\/\/vazquezmontalban.bnc.cat\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/5-FCBarcelona_13.jpg” button_url_new_window=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” body_text_color=”#F8F9F2″ body_line_height=”1.4em” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Duncan Shaw. F\u00fatbol y franquismo<\/em>. Alianza Editorial. 1987.<\/p>\n [\/dsm_card_carousel_child][\/dsm_card_carousel][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”||0px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”||0px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text admin_label=”seleccio_textos_title” module_class=”seleccio_textos_title” _builder_version=”4.22.1″ _module_preset=”default” header_2_text_color=”#020B11″ header_2_font_size=”4em” custom_margin=”||-21px||false|false” animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” background_color=”#020B11″ global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” animation_style=”fade” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n A bad sports education<\/strong>: “Our bad sentimental education became bad sports education, worse, impossible sports education. Only in schools from the urban waist up did they know what a stopwatch was for and years later, when the educational authorities tried to impose “sport” in neighbourhood schools, located in flats and with no other possible teacher than the principal’s skinniest daughter, the one who did the business was the nearest carpenter, responsible for making a vault, for example, by eye or ear, with the obvious risk that an entire class of schoolchildren like us would lose on their backs the future possibility of a career as Japanese sex athletes”<\/p>\n “Opening your eyes to the sense of muscle in the post-war period was not stimulating. The only sports facilities for the common folk were the vacant plots opened by the bombs, improvised football fields for balls made of rags, tin or rubber and, instead of showers, some hydrants or those fountains of Barcelona\u201d (\u201cCr\u00f3nica sentimental de la musculature\u201d. in: Olimpiada Cultural<\/em>, 16 November 1990. No pagination.).<\/p>\n Football on vacant sites on the outskirts of the city<\/strong>: \u201cWhen we were kids, between Barcelona and l\u2019Hospitalet there were twenty kilometres of vacant sites. In Montju\u00efc, the Expo exhibition halls that had collapsed were esplanades where we went to play football\u201d (\u201cBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u201d in: Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a<\/em>. Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 152).<\/p>\n Football among paving-stones<\/strong>: “Marcet, a very fine winger who once kicked a ball that someone gave him in a street (you could play football in the streets then), a mate of knock-abouts. Marcet took the ball, passed it from one foot to the other, flipped it to one shoulder, then to the head, dropped it on the tip of one foot… in short, he showed ball control. After the event there was a division of opinions. The most radical wing of the little band gathered there reproached the one who had passed the ball to Marcet for fraternising with the enemy. But, fortunately, the moderate majority prevailed and Marcet, despite being an Espa\u00f1ol supporter, entered our mental Olympus and during the years that remained of friendship and adolescence we remember that day when Marcet passed through our cobblestone stadium.\u201d(\u201cEnemigos para siempre\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>, Deportes, 29 November 1992, p. 48).<\/p>\n The Flors de Maig 11-a-side football team<\/strong>: “The Flors de Maig (Mayflowers) team was made up of people who worked with publishers (Planeta, Salvat, Enciclop\u00e8dia catalana, Larousse), as well as some young university students. Two teams were set up, I don’t know how, one was the Mayflowers, which was called Atl\u00e9tico Marxista and we were in red, and another was the Real Acrata who were in black and was the team we normally played against. Here there were many diverse people, even a professor who was vice-rector of the University of Barcelona and Enric Fust\u00e9, financial advisor to Manolo and who appears in Carvalho, Jordi Borja, Sol\u00e9 Tura, it was a mixture of people from the publishing and the political worlds. We normally played on Saturday or Sunday mornings. I remember a significant anecdote. We went to play in La Verneda, in Poblenou, a working-class neighbourhood, adjacent to the ground of La Bota. We were playing and there was one thing that was striking even though we didn’t lend it any importance was that looking at both teams possibly three-quarters of the players wore beards, because it was a time when long hair was in style, and someone in the crowd said “these teams spend less on barbers than the Russians on catechisms”. It was striking because it wasn’t the run of the mill teams of young people in the neighbourhood, but people from the publishing world, usually left-wingers, who ended up calling and saying we need eleven to play… I remember these matches that were held from time to time, I remember taking part two or three times a year, mostly in the spring.\u201d (testimony of Borja de Riquer).<\/p>\n Futsal team with the colleagues of the CAU magazine <\/strong> Centre-forward position<\/strong> MVM: I was a centre-forward because I was a bit heavy, I led the charge…<\/p>\n E.V.-M: Who were you like?<\/p>\n MVM: It was what they called the \u201cSpanish fury\u201d. I was a buffer, but from time to time I scored goals\u00bb <\/p>\n (\u00abBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u00bb. aavv. Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a<\/em>. Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 153)<\/p>\n Physical exercise in the Centro Gimn\u00e1stico Barcelon\u00e9s<\/strong><\/p>\n Poem \u201cB\u00edceps, tr\u00edceps\u201d \u00abLas ocho y media de la ma\u00f1ana en la Ciudad Condal\u00bb. Una educaci\u00f3n sentimental. Barcelona: El Bardo, 1967, p. 24-26<\/p>\n<\/div> Boxing during his childhood<\/strong>: \u201cWe all belong to the country of our childhood and I am from the nineteen-forties. There was a young boxer who had won the golden glove before the war and who tried to throw a hard punch to gain the victory that he would never achieve.\u201d (Luis Lopez Doy (dir.). Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n: el \u00e9xito de un perdedor<\/em>. Madrid: Televisi\u00f3n Espa\u00f1ola, 1997). If we can obtain the video, it can be included as an audiovisual resource.<\/p>\n Young Serra<\/strong>: \u201cAnother name I think is important is Young Serra, the name of the boxer who appears in El Pianista<\/em> and is also the main character of the short story \u201cDesde los tejados\u201d, in \u201cHistorias de familia<\/em>\u201d. (\u2026) At that time there was a featherweight boxer in Spain called Young Mart\u00edn and he was scrawny, like half a kilo of boxer, but he won fights, he was the European featherweight champion.\u201d (Georges Tyras. Geometr\u00edas de la memoria<\/em>. Granada: Zoela, 2003, p. 143-144).<\/p>\n Young Serra’s training in El pianista<\/em>: You’re going to make yourself ill if you keep training like this and eating the rations they give us, Young. Stop now, damn it, Young. \u201cOne of these days you’re going to hit me.\u201d (El pianista<\/em>, p. 87).<\/p>\n The cycling epic<\/strong>: “We love cycling those who since the time of Bernardo Ruiz turned it into an epic cutout on the school desk, and the giants of the route were just that, the giants of the route, without anyone asking them for explanations about gasoline or wood gas, in the case of the Spaniards, who guzzled it down” (“The Tour” El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 9 June 2001. Last page).<\/p>\n “I wish there were a Tour every month, because I know there are other important stage races, but the Tour is the true religion and since the times of Bernardo Ruiz, Koblet and Kubler, I live a whole year obsessed with the Tour and when I am no longer in this supervisory role one of my sadnesses, if I take any with me, will be not knowing what the Delgado of the day has done in the Tour\u201d (\u201cPericomania\u201d Intervi\u00fa<\/em>. No. 690. 1 August 1989. p. 122).<\/p>\n Football on the radio<\/strong>: \u201cThe comeback of Mat\u00edas Prats is a bit like recovering a childhood. I remember those football broadcasts in which the voice of Mat\u00edas Prats managed to turn Gonzalo III into Siegfried, Basra into the real monster of Colombes and Gainza into a fox impossible to hunt, even the English abstaining\u201d (\u201cThe return of Mat\u00edas Prats\u201d El Peri\u00f3dico<\/em>. 30 May 1981. p. 39).<\/p>\n Football on television<\/strong>: \u201cAnd one has an elephant\u2019s memory, an immense memory in which one keeps the collective celebratory tone of the victory over England in 1950. They were the same faces, the same vented frustrations, the same desire to give meaning to life and history, since it is not given by the daily exercise of living. I watched the 1950 match surrounded by Spaniards who were diverse in their ideology” (\u201cGol, gol, gol, gol, gol, gol\u201d in: Triunfo<\/em>. No. 774. 10 December 1977. p. 20).<\/p>\n \u201cI have thought about my most immediate epic horizons and a football league awaits me that I don\u2019t intend to miss. As for TV, I only watch movies and football matches regularly, everything else is a gerund or has an absolute majority.” (\u201cSaviola y Zidane\u201d Intervi\u00fa<\/em>. No. 1319. 6 August 2001. p. 106).<\/p>\n Live football<\/strong>: During my long stay in the Americas, I received a privileged invitation: to attend a Boca Juniors match in the presidential box. It is not a box in the European manner, but glazed, a protected window open to the spectacle of this sweetshop located in one of the most working-class and, in a sense, down at heel neighbourhoods of Buenos Aires\u201d (\u201cBoca, algo m\u00e1s que un club\u201d Intervi\u00fa<\/em>. No. 1181. 14 December 1998. p. 114).<\/p>\n The feats of Santana<\/strong>: “I like tennis and I like it thanks to television because I belong to the large number of Spaniards who discovered this sport in the sixties, thanks to the television broadcasts of the deeds of the great Santana\u201d (\u201cTennis and television\u201d El Peri\u00f3dico<\/em>. 27 November 1982. p. 43).<\/p>\n<\/div> The pen-name Luis D\u00e1vila<\/strong>: \u201cI thought that name [Luis D\u00e1vila] reminded me of a sports journalist. At that time no Spanish intellectual was able to talk about sport because that seemed to them a mediocre, minor thing, and to report on sport or do sports criticism it would seem as if the rings fell from his fingers, so I looked for a pseudonym that seemed to me to sound like a sports writer\u201d (Roberta Erba. <\/span> Los pseud\u00f3nimos de V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n<\/i>, interview held on 6 June 1994)<\/span><\/a>.<\/p>\n The duels with Javier Marias<\/strong>: \u201cWhenever a Barcelona-Real Madrid or vice-versa classic came around, they would nearly always drag me and Javier Marias out of our autumn barracks to show our heart so white or so blue and claret\u201d (\u201cAdi\u00f3s, Bar\u00e7a, adi\u00f3s\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/i>. 13 October 1999. p. 64).<\/p>\n<\/div> Publications about the Barcelona Olympic Games<\/strong>: \u201cAs the Olympic Games grew closer, I received journalists and social theologians from all over the world who sought in me a critical Virgil of the city and the relationship between the city and the games\u201d (\u201cEl loro y los Juegos Ol\u00edmpicos\u201d. Profil<\/i>. 14 September 1992. No pagination).<\/p>\n Le Monde Diplomatique<\/em> and footbal<\/strong>l: \u201cThe fact that a publication conventionally so serious and so aware of what is necessary news as Le Monde Diplomatique should devote a monographic issue to football just a few months ago shows the importance that this secular godless religion is acquiring, one that is endowed with a rigorous ritutal and worrying ends. In the piece that Le Monde Diplomatique asked me to contribute, I took as my starting point the evidence that Berlusconi would probably never have become prime minister of Italy without the help of the Milan of Van Basten, Gullit and Rijkaard\u201d (\u201cEl f\u00fatbol, una religi\u00f3n sin Dios\u201d.\u00a0 <\/span>Intervi\u00fa<\/i>. No. 1124. 10 November 1997. p. 122). This article was published in August 1997 with the title \u201cEl f\u00fatbol: una religi\u00f3n civil en busca de un Dios (football – a civil religion in search of a God<\/span><\/a>\u201d.<\/p>\n L\u2019\u00c9quipe<\/i> and sport<\/strong>: \u201cThe newspaper L’\u00c9quipe<\/i> asks a series of politicians and intellectuals to state their views about the meaning of sport at the end of the century, the end of the millennium\u201d. (\u201cL\u2019esport<\/span><\/a>\u201d. Avui<\/i>. 18 December 1999. p. 19).<\/p>\n<\/div> \u201cThere was Carvalho in front of the cemetery gate, in a silent dialogue with the old glory, a piece of the collage of his childhood when they reproduced it as a slogan of the posters announcing the Sunday matches, hooked behind the windows of the most crowded establishments on the street: the mandatory bakery of mandatory post-war black bread or the dry cleaner\u2019s where the four daughters of Mrs. Remei bloomed. Four breasts in bloom that roamed the street under the rain of lewd whistles, co-owners of flesh unbecoming of a post-war of a general and equally mandatory rationing\u201d (El delantero centro fue asesinado al atardecer<\/em>. Barcelona: Planeta, 1988, p. 141).<\/p>\n Political and social identification<\/strong>: \u201cIn the Raval neighbourhood and in the Barrio Chino, the native Catalan workers and those descended from migrants were mixed together. And to cohabit precisely means to know that there is one who is different, because they talk differently and they have different habits and customs, other symbolic referents that you feed on little by little, such as Barcelona football club, for example.\u201d (Georges Tyras. Geometr\u00edas de la memoria.<\/em> Granada: Zoela, 2003, p. 40-41).<\/p>\n \u201cWhen at school we commented on the results, I already knew that it was a team that was, let’s say persecuted, because it had been a Catalanist team, the Francoists had executed its president in 1936, and a Barcelona team had gone around the world playing matches and promoting the Republic, just like another from club in Bilbao; Some of those footballers were later exiled. You assimilated all that in a diffuse way and took it on board as a sign of participation in the country\u201d (Georges Tyras. Geometr\u00edas de la memoria<\/em>. Granada: Zoela, 2003, p. 41).<\/p>\n FC Barcelona in his sentimental education and cultural admixture<\/strong>: Poem Visualizaciones sin\u00f3pticas (end of the poem \u201cVisualizaciones sin\u00f3pticas\u201d, included in Escritos subnormales<\/em>).<\/p>\n The songs of his childhood<\/strong>: \u201cIn a neighbourhood now called Raval, it even has its own Rambla, and which then was called Chino or disrict V, it was impossible to sing The International<\/em> or La Varsoviana<\/em> or Els segadors<\/em>, songs for Republican times. But we did sing in pure \u2018charnego\u2019 [Catalan influenced by Castilian as spoken by economic migrants from other parts of Spain – pejorative]: If a dove comes to your window\/treat it kindly because it’s from Barcelona\/If a little owl comes to your window\/hit it with a stick it’s from Espanyol. Or we would recite: There are six things in this world that shine brighter than the sun \/ the six cups of Barcelona and the shit of Espanyol (\u201cKubala, entre Gamper y Cruyff\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 18 May 2002. p. 42).<\/p>\n Kubala<\/strong>: \u201cI was impressed by Kubala, the first wizard of the ball for those of us who had not seen Samitier play\u201d (\u201cManuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n\u201d. Pere Ferreres. Cien a\u00f1os azulgrana: entrevistas a la sombra del Camp Nou. Madrid: El Pa\u00eds<\/em>-Aguilar, 1998, p. 203).<\/p>\n The Bar\u00e7a of the 5 Cups<\/strong>: \u201cWhen I got out of that strange club (jail), I went through a period of football non-belief, until I asked myself: which is more stupid, to believe in Basora, C\u00e9sar, Kubala, Moreno and Manch\u00f3n or in Carrillo and el Guti? I decided to believe in Bar\u00e7a and to study very closely the politics that affected me, but always, always, based on the evidence that neither history, nor life, nor Europe were what we deserved\u201d (\u201cCredo\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 21 May 1992. p. 54).<\/p>\n<\/div> To Les Corts with some family members from the neighbourhood<\/strong>: \u201cI went many times with my relatives to see \u201cBar\u00e7a\u201d play at the old Les Corts ground. There were seasons when I didn’t miss a match\u201d (\u201cBar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a\u201d. Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. No. 802. 30 March 1971. No pagination).<\/p>\n \u201cI used to go to Les Corts [football ground] because a wholesaler who was a part relative of mine had a member’s card. \u201dI didn’t need it and I generally sneaked into the zone where the crowd pushed en masse\u201d <\/i>(\u201cBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u201d. Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 156).<\/p>\n To the Camp Nou with a group of friends and his father-in-law’s member’s card<\/strong>: \u201cI stopped going to the stadium for a several years. From 1964 I started going again, and since then I have renewed my father-in-law\u2019s member’s card every year; he has number eight thousand and something. My wife also has a really low member’s number. I still have my father-in-law\u2019s member’s card because he can’t go to the ground any more and he would be very upset if I were to take out a new one, as he is a real \u201ccul\u00e9\u201d (a diehard Bar\u00e7a fan). I go to the \u201cCamp Nou\u201d with my wife and a group of friends, who are lecturers at the Autonomous University \u2013 Sergi Beser, Pep Termes, Jordi Argent\u00e9…\u201d (\u201cBar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a\u201d. Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. No. 802. 30 March 1971. No pagination).<\/p>\n From the terraces to the President’s box<\/strong>: \u201cWhen I started going to football, I used to go to the Les Corts ground; now I go to the upper main grandstand and, unlike Mr. Baret, I have completely forgotten those times, because in the grandstand you are much more comfortable and, on the other hand, it is one of the few places in the country where the police treat you with respect\u201d (\u00abV\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n, president del Bar\u00e7a?\u00bb<\/a>. Oriflama<\/i>. No. 93. March 1970. p. 25).<\/p>\n The admiration of technical and skilful players<\/strong>: \u201cI’ve burst many a blood vessel for Reixach and for Su\u00e1rez. The Bar\u00e7a crowd also liked the players with the foreheads tinged red with martyrdom, those who sweated the shirt, and barely appreciated those who have fun playing” (\u201cLa esquizofrenia del entrenador\u201d. El Pa\u00eds. 22 October 1995. p. 14).<\/p>\n “I’m seasoned by life and football fields and I, who have seen Kubala dribble with his hips, Eulogio Mart\u00ednez dribble sideways, Di Stefano reinvent the football field with his imagination or disguise himself as a post, Cruyff score goals with his fringe, I regretted the other day never wearing \u2013 but never \u2013 a hat to take off when I saw Romario leaving Osasuna\u2019s goalkeeper beaten and lonely with a perfect chip”. (\u201cEsplendor en la yerba\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 10 October 1993. p. 44).<\/p>\n \u201cAnd now I adore De la Pe\u00f1a, who is brilliant and bonkers. I remember one day, Robson was the manager, when Ivan tried a great pass, Robson came off the bench to see it. When he missed, he turned to the bench with his hands on his head to show that he was mad. But Ivan tried it again later and he got it right\u201d (\u201cBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u201d. Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a<\/em> . Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 146).<\/p>\n The post-match discussions in his home in Les Corts<\/strong>: \u201cThere were also people in the PSUC who enjoyed football, like Pepe Termes or Fontana, and every time we went to the stadium, after the game we would comment on the plays at home, and I realised that I wasn’t so heterodox. (\u201cManuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n\u201d. Pere Ferreres. Cien a\u00f1os azulgrana: entrevistas a la sombra del Camp Nou<\/em> (A hundred years of blue and red: interviews in the shadow of the Camp Nou stadium). Madrid: El Pa\u00eds-Aguilar, 1998, p. 203).<\/p>\n \u201cAnd when the match was over, the meetings we held at home, with Borja de Riquer, Pep Termes, Josep Fontana, Jordi Argent\u00e9, and sometimes Jordi Sol\u00e9 Tura, among other centre-forwards. There was a lot of drinking, a lot of arguing, and little was resolved.\u201d (Daniel V\u00e1zquez Sall\u00e9s. \u201cM\u00e1s que un adoqu\u00edn\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 1 June 2003. p. 51).<\/p>\n<\/div> Supporting Barcelona, a secular religion<\/strong>: \u201cHowever, I have always said that I preferred to be religious in football so as not to have to be religious in love, in politics, or in religion. Each to his own faith. Like Serrat, I believe in Basora, C\u00e9sar, Kubala, Moreno and Manch\u00f3n\u201d (\u201cEl Bar\u00e7a \u00e9s el nostre club\u201d. Ramon Barnils (Ed). Dec\u00e0leg del cul\u00e9<\/em> (The Ten Commandments of the FC Barcelona supporter). Barcelona: Columna, 1992, p. 17).<\/p>\n \u201cImpossible to forget that the celebration of the Centenary of Barcelona FC has begun, an institution that I declare I support for the same reasons that Joan Manuel Serrat does. We are both kids from the block and we became Bar\u00e7a supporters because in the shops in the country when we were boys there were posters depicting how Samitier would dribble past a player, any player, of Espa\u00f1ol. We both became Bar\u00e7a fans thanks to the deeds of Basra, C\u00e9sar, Kubala, Moreno and Manch\u00f3n. And we still are because Bar\u00e7a was the symbolic army of an idea of what it means to be Catalan that is of the people, secular, with no need to go on a pilgrimage to any mountain other than the terraces of the Camp de les Corts or the Camp Nou\u201d (\u201cEl Bar\u00e7a del desencuentro\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 28 November 1998. p. 46).<\/p>\n \u201cWe agnostics have to be given a chance to believe in something, and I take it by believing firmly in the revealed truth of Barcelona Football Club.\u201d (\u201cL\u2019esport\u201d. Avui<\/em>. 18 December 1999. p. 19).<\/p>\n Always with an eye on his team’s results<\/strong>: \u201cAnd the thing is that, since childhood, an important part of my calendar has been prefixed by national football competitions and the role that my favourite team played in them. I know that the worst thing that can happen to an intellectual is to know which part of his brain has a limp, so it is in football as in politics. There’s nothing we can do about it. My fate was decided long ago\u201d (\u201cLa Copa\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 21 June 1985. Last page).<\/p>\n \u201cI confess that I sometimes, when I have thought about death, fretted about the impossibility of knowing how Bar\u00e7a would do in the League. For me, dying meant never again to know who had won the League, and to fear the last critical-biographical comment that Rafael Conte would doubtless dedicate to me in EL PA\u00cdS\u201d (\u201cVolver a empezar\u201d. El Pa\u00eds, Deportes<\/em>. 28 August 1989. p. 12).<\/p>\n Following Bar\u00e7a’s matches on the radio<\/strong>: \u201cThe first time that Bar\u00e7a lost the European Cup, I was in prison, doing my anti-Francoist duty, but attentive to the football results that were broadcast on the loudspeakers in the prison yard of the Modelo\u201d (\u201cCredo\u201d in: El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 21 May 1992. p. 54).<\/p>\n \u201cWhatever happens I will find out about the result tomorrow, from the confidence given to me by the circumstance of having heard in a tent, in the Sahara, the magical goal of Rivaldo that qualified us to play the Champions League\u201d (\u201cTot el camp \u00e9s un clam!\u201d in: Op. cit. p. 21).<\/p>\n Following Bar\u00e7a’s matches in his travels<\/strong>: “To give you some idea, I was giving some talks at the University of San Diego, in California, and I wanted to know what Bar\u00e7a had done. Some students who joined the course, through the Internet, managed to tell me what was happening.” (\u201cBar\u00e7a i integraci\u00f3\u201d. Amb blau sofert i amb grana intens. Cent anys del Bar\u00e7a.<\/em> Barcelona: Proa, 1999, p. 154).<\/p>\n \u201cOn a recent visit to present the Dutch version of Gal\u00edndez, I had reserved a sacred space for myself to witness Galatasaray-Barcelona broadcast live on Dutch television.” (\u201cEn un momento dado\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 11 December 1993. p. 28).<\/p>\n “I witnessed in Havana that famous match in which Valencia came back from three goals behind Barcelona and when the ch\u00e9s [Valencia] scored the fourth goal, a Spaniard who was next to me, stood up in ecstasy and shouted: Viva Espa\u00f1a!\u201d (\u201cNaranjas, naranjitos y naranjazos\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 2 May 2000. p. 53).<\/p>\n An international landmark of Barcelona-ism<\/strong>: “A Swiss television crew was travelling around Barcelona filming the city and its literatures and, suddenly, its members came across the events of La Rambla and began to ask questions. What do these kids want, revolution? (…) But they still didn\u2019t understand the flags, the patriotism in whose name the hooliganism could be made. Having to give them a justification I heard myself reciting the old speech about the identification of Catalonia with Bar\u00e7a, and I found my speech unconvincing. (\u201cNueve d\u00edas y medio\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 20 May 1989. p. 27).<\/p>\n \u201cIn Holland they have asked me for my opinion of Cruyff on the occasion of his 50th anniversary.\u201d (\u201cPost-Cruyffism\u201d. El Pa\u00eds<\/em>. 20 April 1997. p. 48).<\/p>\n<\/div> A medium with the history of Catalonia<\/strong>: “The team of Barcelona Football Club, of Bar\u00e7a, also acts as a medium. But I dare say that, after the spiritualist contact with victory or defeat, there remains a further contact, so subtle that it remains at the level of foreboding: but certainly evident to anyone who has been in Catalonia not just passing through. The medium establishes contact with nothing more and nothing less than the history of the Catalan people itself.” (Bar\u00e7a! Bar\u00e7a! Bar\u00e7a!<\/span><\/a>\u201d. Triunfo<\/i>. No. 386. 25 October 1969. p. 25).<\/p>\n From the publication on the cover of the magazine Triomf of Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, endorsements were written to me by monks from Montserrat to aspiring general secretaries of the PSUC and intellectuals in self-exile in Paris, as well as Oriol Bohigas and Salvador Espiru, letters that I received as if they were a lifetime safe-conduct for all the galaxies of Catalan-ness\u201d <\/i>(\u201cTot el camp \u00e9s un clam!<\/span><\/a><\/span>\u201d<\/span>. Avui<\/i>. 14 June 2003. p. 21).<\/p>\n A badge of identity<\/strong>: “But I believe, I firmly believe, that the significance of Bar\u00e7a beyond sport is loaded with congenital innocence. Peoples need signs of identity, especially those peoples who have lived in permanent risk of losing them, and Bar\u00e7a is above all a sign of identity.” (\u201cEl Bar\u00e7a is different\u201d. Tele\/eXpr\u00e9s<\/i>. 8 April 1974. p. 4).<\/p>\n The army of a disarmed country<\/strong>: “Everything that didn\u2019t sit well with the official and absolute truth of Francoism became a fact of objective opposition and the Barcelona football team polarised the nationalist desires of the Catalans, as if it were the unarmed army of a country with its identity crushed by the victor in the civil war.” (V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n, Manuel. \u00abBar\u00e7a: el ej\u00e9rcito de un pa\u00eds desarmado<\/span><\/a>\u00bb. Catal\u00f2nia, 1987, N\u00fam. 1, p. 45)<\/p>\n The symbolic disarmed army of Catalan nationalism:<\/strong> He’s a politician, a more or less frustrated one. He wanted to put the economy, democracy, Catalonia in order, and now he wants to order the epic sentimentality of this country by returning to the club its character as an unarmed symbolic army of what it means to be Catalan.\u201d (El delantero centro fue asesinado al atardecer<\/i>. Barcelona: Planeta, 1988, p. 92).<\/p>\n \u201cMr Robson has used my keen observation that Bar\u00e7a is the army of Catalonia, minimising it, because in fact my cognitive proposal was more complete: it\u2019s the symbolic and unarmed army of Catalonia\u201d (\u201cEl sofriment<\/span><\/a>\u201d. Avui<\/i>. 19 April 1997. p. 20).<\/p>\n A disarmed memory<\/strong>:\u201cFounded by Joan Gamper the Noi del Sucre brought the masses the bosses the designer stand a girl from Torroja would sing to the boy of the moon from Madrid the heart so white \u2026\u201d (\u00abDesarmado ej\u00e9rcito simb\u00f3lico de una memoria desarmada\u00bb<\/a>. El Pa\u00eds. 7 May 1998. p. 43).<\/p>\n International repercussion<\/strong>: \u201cPerhaps the phenomenon is explained by the fact that in those years Catalan nationalism resurfaced in the face of the crisis of the Spanish centralist state, nationalism driven by the development of the Catalan industrial bourgeoisie and crisis of the Spanish state aggravated by the loss of the remains of the Empire. F\u00fatbol Club Barcelona is immediately adopted as the epic expression of the Catalan national renaissance. Catalonia has a language, a culture of its own, a sovereign historical tradition during the late Middle Ages and the Renaissance, a native cuisine but it does not have a state or an army. Something paired with a state is pursued through the autonomic or federalist claim, but there is no other possibility of an army than the eleven pairs of boots of the Barcelona players, “El Bar\u00e7a” according to the apocope that popularises the name of the club\u201d (\u201cEl Barcelona F. C.: algo m\u00e1s que un club\u201d, Sport International<\/i>, September 1987, page numbers unknown).<\/p>\n \u201cBarcelona F. C. is something more than a club\u2019. This phrase was spoken by a president of Barcelona [football club] shortly before Franco died and expressed the opinion of many thousands and thousands of Catalans, convinced that their favourite football club is a national symbol of Catalonia, as the Virgin of Chestokova is a national symbol for the Poles. Indirect symbolic elements flourish under dictatorships because the symbolic elements of identity are usually forbidden. Was Barcelona then \u201csomething more than a club?\u201d I think so.\u201d<\/i> (\u201cEl Barcelona F.C.: algo m\u00e1s que un club\u201d Merian, 14 October 1991, page numbers unknown).<\/p>\n \u201cIt is already known even in Europe, where until recently they knew nothing about Spain, that Barcelona Football Club, Bar\u00e7a, is more than a club, it is the unarmed symbolic army of what it means to be Catalan.\u201d (\u201cUn drama de la globalizaci\u00f3n. Los problemas de identidad del Club de F\u00fatbol Barcelona\u201d. La Reppublica, Settimanale<\/i>. 5 November 1999. No pagination).<\/p>\n<\/div> Film Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a<\/i><\/strong>: “The origin of the film can be traced back to that extraordinary report published a year and a half ago by Manolo V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n in the magazine Triunfo<\/i> with the same title of “Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a” and that had such wide repercussions at the time. Manolo tells us that the idea of filming the film came to Jaume Lor\u00e9s during the triumphalist era of the League, at a time when Barcelona seemed to be going to win the Championship easily.\u201d <\/i>( \u00abBar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a, Bar\u00e7a\u00bb<\/a>. Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. No. 802. 30 March 1971. No pagination).<\/p>\n Book on the history of FC Barcelona<\/strong>: \u201cThe work undertaken by a group of outstanding Catalan university students to collect in a book the various aspects of the socio-cultural impact of FC Barcelona constitutes, in all likelihood, an unprecedented research effort in the history of football\u201d (\u201cLos 75 a\u00f1os del Bar\u00e7a en un libro\u201d. Bar\u00e7a<\/i>. No. 954. 26 February 1974. No pagination).<\/p>\n Film El fantasma del estadio<\/strong>:<\/i> \u201cThrough these lines, I would like to inform you, as President of the Organising Committee of FC Barcelona’s Centenary Events, our sincere support for the project, which you so worthily direct, to make a film about our Club, as well as its inclusion in the Centenary Events Programme. In addition, we also agree that the renowned writer Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n should be the person to write the script for this film”. (Letter from Josep Caminal, Vice President of FC Barcelona and President of the Organising Committee of Centenary Events, dated 2 December 1996).<\/p>\n<\/div> Homage at Camp Nou<\/strong><\/p>\nSelection of texts<\/h2>\n
\n<\/p>\n
\n\u00abE.V.-M (Enrique Vila-Matas): What position did you play in, Manolo?<\/p>\nPing-pong in El Carmen parish:
\n\u00abI remember that at that time if you wanted to have a place to hold meetings you could only join the Youth Front or the local Catholic Centre. And I signed up for the Catholic Centre of the El Carme parish.
\nBy the way, I often bumped into Benet and Jornet there, and Antoni von Kirchner. They would meet there to play ping-pong.\u00bb
\n(Quim Aranda. \u00abQu\u00e8 pensa Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n\u00bb. Interviwed by Quim Aranda. Barcelona: D\u00e8ria Editors, 1995, p. 27) <\/p>\n
\n\u201cB\u00edceps, tr\u00edceps\u2026
\nHe had died
\nwhen attempting to do a handstand
\non two lacklustre stools,
\n drops of lemonade
\nor indentation, sweaty hands of couples
\nbetween one Sunday dance and another
\non the outskirts, picnic areas
\nwith yellow papers and purple
\ngarlands
\n But no one silenced the squeal
\nof the pulley, nor did it stop spinning
\non the fixed bar, not did the vault rear up
\nat the reckless jumps of artistic
\ngymnasts
\n and in front of the mirror, biceps
\ntriceps with rusty weights, deficient
\nneighbourhood gym equipment
\nimprove the race
\nexpensive project of informative leaflets
\nbiceps and triceps from seven in the morning,
\nturners, die makers, carpenters
\neven heirs to grocery stores,
\ndry cleaners, electrical accessories,
\nnuts
\n the son of the local pharmacist raised
\nthe rope with a half-iron unassisted
\n and in the summer
\nI made love on the sand with disenchanted Swedish women
\nwhite thighs and small breasts
\nsomewhat sad, somewhat rich, somewhat frigid in Sweden,
\nin Spain dazzled by the sun, Spain
\nis different and the biceps of stallions
\nwarm as a whispered song \u2013 the girl
\nfrom Puerto Rico, for whom do you sigh?
\n They sighed.
\nrhythmically -breathe in-breathe out-biceps-triceps-
\nor exchanged obscene words, obscene gestures
\nwith girls somewhat made up, fishnet stockings
\nand blue, pink, home-knitted cardigan,
\nThey learned cutting and tailoring in the windows
\nclose, uselessly blushing because of an
\nunforeseen sex peering from the window
\n between biceps
\nand triceps, raised curious eyes
\ntowards the terrace
\nwhere serious, like vegetarians,
\nthe supporters of Swedish gymnastics,
\nhigh school children, round-bellied paterfamilias,
\nAspirants and Instructors of Accion
\nCatolica, men with principles and readings
\ngraduates, Muller, Swedish gymnastics
\nand Health, rites, one two, one two or ow, or ow,
\nthe teacher raised his hands towards the mist,
\non the grey tiles of unwashable green beans,
\nunder the TV aerials, the cry of distant sirens in the port, in the factories<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThe other one runs over the burnt bricks, marked by the urine of the dogs that have left behind their shit burnt by the suns that the dancing runner uses as obstacles for the fencing-like tension of his steel legs, like steel cables, Andr\u00e9s comments mentally when he sees him leap and jump and make movements to pivot and strike his own shadow.<\/p>\n
\nBut Young, Young Serra, “golden glove” champion of the bantamweights of Barcelona, flits around Andr\u00e9s and even pretends to hit him, bringing his fist two centimetres from his chin.<\/p>\n The advertising of matches in the local bakery<\/strong>: \u201cI remember the first thing I would see when I went out of my house was a bakery that was right in front, that always had a poster, with a very nice illustration of Bar\u00e7a’s next match against whomever it was…\u201d (Georges Tyras. Geometr\u00edas de la memoria.<\/em> Granada: Zoela, 2003, p. 41).<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhy does Bast\u00e9 de Linyola think he’s interesting?<\/p>\n<\/strong>A privilege of age: \u201cAge grants no privileges and even less from the age of fifty. From that age, we only have to forget that we suffer from it. Pay it no heed or, if there is no other choice, be more lenient with our tendency to betrayal. Lately I have betrayed Groucho’s order twice: I became a member of Bar\u00e7a last July, and now I let you make me a doctor” (\u201cSobre la incomunicaci\u00f3 en la societat global\u201d. Doctor Honoris Causa Manuel V\u00e1zquez Montalb\u00e1n. Bellaterra: Publications service of the Autonomous University of Barcelona, 1997).<\/p>\n