🇬🇮 Gibraltar to the World Cup, chapter 10.
nutmeg fc #65
Previously on Gibraltar to the World Cup.
Miguel is an Argentinean who has a new dream: that the Gibraltar National Team qualifies to its first World Cup. After several dreadful matches, he decides that the team needs outside help and summons Boca Jrs fans who live in Malaga with the excuse that the first goal in the history of the Argentine club was scored by a Gibraltarian. Three people join in: a psychic, a retired cab driver and another guy.
Gibraltar v. Scotland.
The debut match for the new Gibraltarian barra brava is not ideal. Although the opponent is Scotland and this could be considered a British derby, it's a friendly match and these are never exciting. They used to be. Particularly when exquisite Frankensteins were assembled, such as the World XI (with Bam Bam Zamorano, Dejan Savičevič and the legendary Tony Meola and Marcelo Balboa, among others) that lost 3-0 at the Monumental against the American champion and world runner-up Argentina Team.
This friendly, on the other hand, was just another match. And although Gibraltar was the home team, the Scots were in the majority and louder. The Gibraltarians sat scattered and even mixed among the Scots. As if living in such a cramped place as the Rock had exhausted them and they needed more personal space.
Miguel and his new friends, Rosa (the psychic), Atilio (the retired cab driver) and Quique (the other one), sat near a group of local fans who, upon seeing them arrive, went to sit elsewhere.
Despite the very positive 0-0 draw at the end of the first half, the experience was demotivating. The home team could not get past the halfway line, perhaps due to inability, perhaps due to lack of motivation. The fans were chatting and eating hot dogs instead of cheering. And even the weather didn't help. It was one of those days when it was hot in the sun and cold in the shade, with no middle ground.
Miguel, eternal optimist, tried to find a positive point to motivate his friends. This was an extraordinary nil-nil! After all, Scotland's left-back was one of the best in the world: Andy Robertson of Liverpool FC. The comment only aroused the interest of Quique who, using the English he had learned in Miss Alfredita's classes, understood that Andy was Julia Roberts' son and believed that the Pretty Woman would be among the visiting fans.
Scotland's first goal ended up burying the hopes of a victory. But in the darkest moment of the afternoon, a miracle occurred.
Rosa, tired of looking through her binoculars at the Scottish fans waiting for the wind to lift their kilts, decided to look at the ground, which was still more interesting than watching the game. And there she found an untouched pretzel, in perfect condition. She decided to eat it, but a crumb went into the wrong pipe and caused her to choke instantly.
Quick of reflexes, Quique ran to help her, but with a spastic movement, the psychic accidentally cut the young unemployed man deeply with one of her sharp toenails. Miguel began to shout for help, but his desperation prevented him from thinking and he could only shout in his mother tongue, Lunfardo. Llamen al tordo, he cried, to the bewilderment of the Scots and Gibraltarians.
Meanwhile, Atilio, the cab driver, was still staring at the game, oblivious to what was going on around him. Such a bad team was magnetic for him. At that moment, Scotland crossed the ball to Gibraltar's far post for the volley of current Torino attacker Adams. In a reflex action, Atilio kicked the ball in imitation of the Scottish striker's volley and, while one hit the ball wide and made it 0-2, the other hit the back of the psychic and unblocked that enemy crumb.
What a great goal, che!, shouted Atilio, using one of Argentina's favourite interjections. Thank you, replied Adams, from the field of play.
With the match lost and the fortune teller saved, Miguel's barra brava went to the first aid room to treat Quique's wound. When they came out, the stadium was empty. It wasn't very full before either, but the feeling of being the last to leave the stadium gave the group a sense of pride. It's not for any fan to have the honour of being the last to leave the stadium after a defeat. There's no greater loyalty.
‘This team is going to go far,’ said Rosa, the seer. I don't know if she was reading the stars or seeing the long-distance bus waiting for them at the gate. But those words moved Quique and Atilio, who already wanted to start planning the next match. And it was this premonition, spoken at dusk, that gave Miguel the idea he needed to stir up the Gibraltar fans.