All the Catalans have a favorite Classical, just like everyone has a favorite concert. Sometimes it is not only because of the performance of your idols, but it is linked to the football-emotional history of each one. A group of notable Barcelona fans choose theirs.
La Manita, 5-0 at the Camp Nou in 2010. I tried everything to get a ticket and when I was already at my friend Manuel Huerga’s house (director of ‘Salvador’) I received a call that there was a ticket. It started to rain and the game started so I decided to stay at Manel’s house, if I had known that this would be one of the most epic Classics in history I would have run to the Camp Nou … The next day I remember reading in a newspaper that you would have to frame that great game and hang it in a museum. I was and I totally agree: that was divine, historical!
Captain of the Spar Uni Girona and of the Spanish basketball team
The 2-6 at the Bernabéu, more than the result, which is also the way that Barça played, which apart from translating into a magnificent game also translated into overwhelming results. Since Guardiola’s Barça I have consumed little more football, because that Barça was more like basketball.
Dancer and choreographer
Johan Cruyff’s first classic, the 0-5 at the Santiago Bernabéu. I stay with that game because of the change it meant after many years in which it cost a lot. For those of us who were Barça members at that time it was a very special match, because it was almost the first joy after many years of disappointment. And, beyond that, it was a technically spectacular game.
The most brutal experience was undoubtedly 2-6 in Madrid. At that time I was on the board of directors of Barça and I remember how Vicente Boluda, who was then the president of Madrid, left us an immense room so that we could celebrate it at ease, with cava and everything. That game was a real madness: I especially remember that connection between Xavi and Puyol and also the goals of Messi and Piqué … It is the Classic that I have experienced with more intensity since 0-5 of February 17, 1974, a game of which I have a bittersweet memory. My father had just died, who had died at only 57 years old, just the day Cruyff scored the goal of the ‘flying Dutchman’. I was in prison and they let me out to go to the funeral. Not even two months had passed when we achieved the 0-5 and I remember the joy for it, for winning a League 13 years later, but also crying a lot thinking that my father had not been able to see it. It is something that until today I persecute.
Without a doubt my favorite Clásico is 0-5 at the Bernabéu. I played for Rayo Vallecano, on loan from Barça, and they gave me a ticket to go to the field. He was in the middle of all the people of Madrid. I tried not to let people notice it but they saw the happy face I had. “This is from Barça”, they said. I returned with the Barça team to Barcelona on Sunday and there was a lot of joy because we came from an absolutely terrible time, but Cruyff came and changed everything. I will remember that team all my life. Then the wonderful time of Guardiola would come. I remember that 2-6 coincided with a function that we did and they were singing the goals to me during the play. Between passes we could see the second part and it was spectacular.
The classics I remember almost all of them with great affection, both the won and the lost. In Madrid I had several friends, such as Juanito, Míchel, Butragueño, although when we faced each other it was tremendous. Juanito was a great person even though he was a very uncomfortable opponent. Even though we made cakes many times, I was very fond of him. Of all the classics I remember with special affection the one from the final of the Copa del Rey in Zaragoza, which was the most beautiful, because we won in the last minute with a goal from Marcos.
Journalist and writer
I could look great and remember Romario’s 5-0, because he was on the field. But I am from two teams: Barça and Antimadrid (and sometimes not precisely in that order). So I enjoyed even more the 2 to 6 that caught me in Madrid. That is, home delivery. I didn’t go to the Bernabéu, but to a bar called Cervantes. The two of us who were culés were quite contained. But a friend from the capital, who was not too interested in football or who was more interested in jokes, it occurred to him to ask for a Vichy Catalan every time we scored. He inaugurated the tradition with the former and kept it to the end. Six bottles of Vichy on the table (he did not touch them, that must have hurt more, he was drinking beer) and a desire to climb gigantic on the part of the rest of the parish. In the fifth Vichy (or goal) they already made me very subtly trip when I saved tables to go to the bathroom. If I ask for coffee they put it with salt and I went from asking for beers to closed bottles. I was afraid of my poisoning while the colleague kept shouting: Another Vichy CATALÁN, does anyone else want? I drank beer to celebrate and control fear. When Piqué finally stretched out of his shirt to show it to the Bernabéu, I did the same, to show it to the bar: several bottles of Vichy had fallen on me, with the latest fuss. I showed an emotional restraint worthy of a lord, but inside a pyromusical was going on in my head. What a great joy.
The 5-0 at the Camp Nou against the Madrid of Jose Mourinho. I freaked out with the adrenaline I felt that day at the stadium. It was a cathartic moment and I remember that epic time at Guardiola’s Barça as the one I’ve been most connected to with football.
Well, look at one that has come to mind is one that was played at the Bernabéu in 2005 and in which Ronaldinho, by himself, took the game. He scored two of the three goals and I remember him a lot because the Madrid fans stood up to applaud his display.
The first Barça-Madrid that I remember is the one from 1975. It was the first time I went to the Camp Nou, accompanied by Joan and ‘Tiu’ Pedro and ‘Tieta’ Florentina. A game without goals, where the maximum emotion lived within me, being able to see my idols live for the first time: Sadurní, Migueli, Cruyff, Neeskens, Asensi against Pirri, Del Bosque, Santillana, Camacho … I recognize that in each Classic I see and relive that nine-year-old boy who goes to the stadium and lives the Classic from fascination, innocence and passion. In fact, in important games we all seek to reconnect with the child within us.
I have chosen for purely sentimental reasons the 2-2 of the 1983 League Cup, which is the day that Diego Armando Maradona dribbles the Real Madrid player Juan José, who hits the host with the stick. It was the first time that the Santiago Bernabéu applauded a Barça player. I have a very vivid memory of that, because I saw the return from the Camp Nou and we won 2-1. I remember my first reaction to seeing Maradona’s goal was to laugh. It is something that has happened to me very few times watching football, I think only a couple more. Romario’s cowtail dribble against Alkorta precisely in another memorable classic, that of the dream team’s 5-0, and that of Messi against Bayern Munich in the 2015 Champions semi-finals that brought down Jerome Boateng. It was the first game that a Barça goal, in addition to giving me immense joy, made me laugh like in a Charles Chaplin movie.
Although I have a very bad memory, I especially remember two games, both at the Bernabéu: Ronaldinho’s 0-3 and 2-6. The latter because at that time Barça was very superior and it was a very cool result. I remember the image of Piqué celebrating his goal. And another image that is also very cool is that of Madrid fans applauding Ronaldinho after the great game he made at 0-3.
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I don’t remember the year. I have thought about looking for it but I prefer to save my memory intact. It was a Saturday afternoon. In the late seventies. My father was going to go to football with his brother. But my uncle got sick and my father was left with two tickets. It would have been impossible to choose: my brother and I wanted to go. And I don’t know how, but my father sneaked one of the two of us into the Camp Nou. A while standing and a while sitting or sharing a seat, my brother and I. I remember as if the world had become precious when the lights were turned on to illuminate the field. I even remember the sound they made. Half with ‘hot dog’. And we won. A perfect afternoon. Absolutely perfect.
Eddie is an Australian news reporter with over 9 years in the industry and has published on Forbes and tech crunch.