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Spanish Inquisition: What To Do On Clasico Weekend In Madrid
Miles away from the biggest game in the country? There's still plenty of football to be had...
| Bet: | Returns: | Racing £36.00 | Draw £34.00 | Atl. Madrid £20.00 |
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| Bet: | Returns: | Racing £37.50 | Draw £34.00 | Atl. Madrid £20.00 |
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| Bet: | Returns: | Racing £36.00 | Draw £33.00 | Atl. Madrid £20.00 |
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| Bet: | Returns: | Racing £37.50 | Draw £34.00 | Atl. Madrid £20.00 |
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| Bet: | Returns: | Racing £39.50 | Draw £35.00 | Atl. Madrid £20.30 |
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Dec 2, 2009 5:22:31 PM
Being in Madrid on Clasico weekend is a dream for many football fans across the world - but not when the big fixture is 350 miles away in Barcelona.
Nonetheless, with a little planning and a lot of public transport, one can still enjoy a feast of football in the Spanish capital. Goal.com's Ewan Macdonald did just that on Sunday, showing that there's more to life than the biggest fixture...
11:00 It's one hour until kick-off on the first pro game of the day here in Madrid. There is just time for a bocata de tortilla and a cerveza sin (I'm working, after all) at the stand-up cafe in Atocha train station. I take a glance at a copy of Marca as I spill crumbs all over the counter. Eighteen pages about the Clasico, give or take. Indeed, it's been on everyone's mind - but I won't be watching it. I have smaller fish to fry.
11:20 Well, a bit smaller, for the upcoming match between Rayo Vallecano and Real Sociedad is just 40 minutes away. Rayo are Madrid's "other" side, last represented in the top flight in 2003, having hovered between the first, second, and third levels for much of their recent history. This game sees high-flying Real - a first division side in all but status - come looking to protect their current third spot against Rayo's attack. I board the underground at Atocha Renfe, heading for Portazgo.
11:25 There aren't as many Rayo fans on the train as I expected, and I figure that the atmosphere will be somewhat muted.
11:28 Big mistake. I emerge from the Portazgo metro stop into a sea of colour and noise. Madrid's metro is one of the world's best, especially for football fans, and this is a classic example as to why. Rayo's Teresa Rivero stadium has a station literally right outside its front doorstep, more specifically next to the away entrance. From the looks of it, Real have brought a massive support down from the Basque country. No wonder: the winner of this game will cement their top three credentials.
11:45 I ask the man at the ticket office for a place in the 'fondo', behind the goal, as I know that this is where the vocal Rayo fans congregate. He won't sell me one - I don't ask why. Instead I hand over €20 and head to the top of the Tribuna Preferencia, or main stand.
11:55 The stadium's not quite full - there are gaps at either side of the fondo, and the front rows are nearly empty on what has been a rainy morning - but the volume is cranked up. The away section, directly opposite me on the top tier of the lateral stand, is absolutely full of blue and white shirts. I begin to notice several around me as well. No segregation at all - except in the fondo.
12:03 Rayo take the lead. Nestor Susaeta scores what I blithely assume will be the best goal of the day anywhere in Spain - a stunning volley from the edge of the area. I make a point of marking it with three stars in my notebook, meaning that I'm honour-bound to find a video of it later.
12:10 The three-sided stadium is a cauldron for noise, with the call-and-reply mode of chanting making for a great atmosphere. It belatedly occurs to me that the goalscorer for Rayo is ex-Real Sociedad.
12:17 Real equalise, and the hitherto-silent Basque fans erupt. The ones around me make themselves known, but there is no hint of trouble. A massive centenary banner appears in the away end, as if by magic.
12:18 That didn't last long: Rafa Garcia rifles home a half-volley from the edge of the box to make it 2-1.
12:30 Things are getting quieter until finally a well-taken free header from Carlos Bueno, the Uruguayan international, levels the score. I notice the ultras in the fondo have 'Sancionados' hung over their banner. What does this mean?
12:36 Three young guys appear on the roof behind the empty end of the ground to watch the game for free. I guess €15 saved are €15 earned.
12:50 Half-time, and it's been a wonderful spectacle so far. Getting up early - 10am is early - on a Sunday morning for this is a decision vindicated.
13:10 Rayo go ahead as Ruben Castro buries a diving header. The ultras are back in action. They have a banner - it reads 'Espe, aunque la mona se vista de seda, mona se queda.' "Although the monkey is wrapped in silk, it's still a monkey." I don't know who or what Espe is. I almost ask the guy next to me, then think better of it.
13:18 Real level yet again, this time through David Zurutuza. Will the goals ever stop?
13:45 In fact there are no more strikes as the exhausted crowd begin to fall silent. Well, that applies to the fans in the stand - in the fondo, a new banner (loosely translated) reads, "A great police presence means very little animation." That would explain the 'Sancionados' from earlier: apparently these fans have recently fallen foul of security, and possibly the club. That's why a foreigner wasn't allowed in the fondo. A Rayo player is sent off for a second bookable offence, but full-time follows right after.
14:10 Back at Atocha, it's been a fantastic day so far. A bottle of Aquarius later and I'm on the Renfe Cercanias train to Getafe Central. The train - fast, warm, quiet, and eminently cheap - is a welcome oasis.
14:35 I decide to have a little walk down the Calle de Madrid, Getafe's main street, to get a feel for the rest of the day's football. Getafe meet Xerez at 17:00, then there's the Clasico at 19:00, then finally Atletico Madrid face Espanyol at 21:00. Getafe, as a town, isn't exactly short on fans of all three of these sides. Judging from the hand-written posters in the windows of bars, the Clasico, naturally, has the most excitement around it, but a few promise to have the Getafe game on pay-per-view as well.
15:20 The sun has been out in spells but it's still bitterly cold. I read some more Marca but find my eyes darting from page to page without taking much in. If there's such a thing as Clasico overload, I've had a few days' worth.
16:22 I make my way back to Getafe Central, and board the underground to Los Espartales, which is just a stone's throw from Getafe's Coliseum Alonfo Perez. It's named for a man who never played for the club, but he remains the town's favourite footballing son.
16:25 I'm struck by the number of families and older ladies with Getafe scarves on the train, and on the streets. Geta have trouble attracting young fans to the stadium - Atleti and Real Madrid are hardly far away, after all - and it's definitely a senior bunch en route to the Coliseum today.
16:45 At €60 for a seat in the main tribuna, I begin to realise why the youngsters aren't exactly flocking to the stadium. Dimly remembering my own days as a strapping 21-year-old, I reflect that weekend recreation funds of that magnitude were more often lavished on a night out. No matter - kick off is approaching, and I'm glad to be here, a second bocata de tortilla and cerveza sin of the day in hand.
16:50 The small group of vocal Geta fans behind the far goal unfurl a black ribbon, and a banner commemorating Quini, a Getafe fan popular on web forums. I'm told that he was killed in a traffic accident. Awful stuff, but the remembrance is tasteful and no doubt well appreciated by his family and friends.
16:55 The small group of Xerez fans behind the other goal are split down the middle. On the left, families and old men with smart hats and travel rugs over their knees. On the right, a band of 30 or 40 hardcore supporters, on their feet, bouncing and singing. That's one way of keeping warm as the temperature approaches freezing.
17:03 The game's underway, and this being a match between a mid-table side and relegation certs, there isn't quite the table-topping frenzy of atmosphere we saw at Rayo. Still, Xerez's Keita gives the ball away, and unbelievably Soldado misses a one-on-one.
17:33 The Xerez fans are hardly shrinking violets, but they crank up the volume as Aythami gives them a scrappy lead. Poor defending and goalkeeping from Geta - it would have to be, as this is the Andalucian side's first away goal of the season. Virtually every player in an orange shirt joins the huddle, and it's clear that this means a lot to them. Coach Ziganda can't contain his joy, either - can Xerez break their away duck?
17:43 In a word, no. Roberto Soldado atones for his earlier miss by clipping home a rebounded effort from a tight angle.
17:45 Xerez utterly collapse as David Prieto sees red for tugging Daniel Parejo's shirt in the box just as the ex-Madridista prepares to pull the trigger. The visiting fans, right next to the incident, are furious with referee Muniz Fernandez, but a lack of protest from the player suggests its own story. Soldado buries the penalty, and Geta are 2-1 up at the break.
17:58 It's another great game of football, albeit at a slower pace and with less at stake, but I'm starting to regret that second sandwich.
18:03 I vaguely notice that right in front of me the television cameraman has fashioned his display visor out of cardboard. He's also smoking a cigarette. This is an accident waiting to happen. The Burger King parachute is cleared off the ground and the second half begins.
18:10 Keita is subbed off for Xerez after a miserable game. He kicks a ball off the stadium fence in frustration. Not his day at all. The sun's down, and it's absolutely freezing.
18:13 Keita can at least reflect on the fact that he isn't around to be culpable for what follows. Getafe score again, Dani Parejo tapping past Renan after Gavilan's free-kick.
18:14 Then another: Soldado gets his third, and it's a brilliant finish. He's unmarked at the far post but with such a tight angle and the 'keeper still to beat, the ex-Madrid man does brilliantly to steer the ball home. One for the ages - and a hat-trick. A fantastic goal - very different from Susaeta's, but just as good in its own way.
Getty Images
18:16 It's 5-1, and the game's over as a contest. Casquero takes up position on the edge of the area and fires home a predatory effort. He's scored dozens like it before, and there'll be more to come.
18:31 Things slow to a crawl on the pitch. The scoreboard, which gives goal updates from across Spain, largely goes unnoticed, but all fans look up when "Goal en Santander appears." A cheer goes up as it transpires that Deportivo are 1-0 ahead of Racing. Geta fans hate Racing, and vice versa - it's a weird historical rivalry based on past meetings and promotion challenges, not on geography.
18:50 Full-time, and I remember a statistic from the newspapers earlier in the week: Getafe have, for the first time in 59 attempts, won two Liga games in a row. No wonder the cheers at the end were so loud. One more game to go. I hear two guys on the way out of the stadium reflecting on the fact that Tenerife had come back from 3-0 down to draw at Valladolid.
18:59 From Los Espartales back to Getafe Central, the metro crowd are in high spirits, albeit frozen into submission. I change back to the Cercanias and go back to Atocha, flirting with the idea of a third bocata. (I feel a little better by now.)
19:10 Deciding against another sandwich, I instead go and wait for the train to Piramides.
19:23 The train is taking its time. I play some Bejeweled on my phone.
19:48 Where on earth is that train? In fact, where is everyone? Another train leaves from the other side of the platform, going to Las Rozas. Everyone else nearby gets on it. I'm the only one left. More Bejeweled.
19:53 I notice that two Atleti fans with scarves are walking down the stairs. Four platforms away.
19:54 Red-faced, I'm at the right platform.
20:15 At Piramides I'm refreshed, due to having had a seat on the train, something that will be unthinkable after the match.
20:19 I've made the walk from Piramides to the Vicente Calderon before, but I've never seen the bars so busy. It's going to be a small crowd tonight - it's freezing, and Atleti are on a dreadful run - but the cafes and tabernas are packed full of people watching the Clasico. Almost all of them are Atleti fans, no doubt delighted that their city rivals are 1-0 down to what I will not discover until later was a fantastic Zlatan Ibrahimovic strike.
20:22 A friend from Scotland texts to say he's watching the Clasico. He asks where I'm sitting, so that he might see me on TV. I text back a brief explanation.
20:25 The riot police are bringing down the grates on their armoured cars' windscreens. I begin to wonder if there is going to be trouble.
20:30 My friend texts back. He asks where I'm sitting at the Calderon.
20:31 Good question. I walk around the side of the famous stadium to the ticket office.
20:35 I'm approached by a man speaking extremely quickly. I ask him to slow down. Recognising my accent, he switches effortlessly to English. He's offering to sell me a top-tier ticket at what he assures me is a discount. Casting one eye over to the queue at the ticket line, I agree.
20:36 The man nods, smiles, and jogs 15 feet away to his accomplice, who with practised subtlety slips him a ticket. The man bounds back, presents it to me for inspection, as one would a fine wine, then looks up, hopefully. I hand him €40.
20:36:30 I immediately feel massively guilty at having bought a ticket from a tout, scalper - whatever you want to call them. This was not supposed to happen.
20:37 It then occurs to me that this ticket has no date on it. I begin to wonder if I've been scammed. The guilt is still all-consuming as I trudge over to the gate.
20:40 Mercy of mercies, the ticket scans successfully. It occurs to me that it's probably taken out of a season ticket book, hence the lack of date. I vow never to buy from a scalper again. I then revise my vow to include "unless in dire straits."
20:47 The Vicente Calderon is an underrated stadium, in my book. I make the climb to the top tier in leisurely fashion, stopping to look out at the residential surroundings, and the western fringes of the Madrid skyline, en route. What a shame it will be torn to the ground in a decade or so, if all goes to plan. This is my first time in this tribuna - previously I've been on the other side in the press area, where the view of the city is better once you're actually in your seat - and the sight is wonderful. I feel immensely privileged to have experienced it, even if I can hardly feel my legs because of the cold. Later, I find an old photo in the Goal.com archives, which becomes my desktop background.
Goal.com
20:50 Perhaps addled by the guilt and the bocatas, my stomach urges me to make use of the facilities. They are mercifully clean and well-appointed, albeit without paper. Of course, someone visiting more than one match in one day knows never to do so without a little packet of Kleenex and a tiny bottle of hand sanitiser.
20:54 Having singularly failed to learn my lesson, I purchase a third bocata and Laiker, making my three meals of the day absolutely identical. I begin to wonder if I'm developing scurvy.
20:59 Seated somewhere near my appointed row - it's hardly busy - I text my friend back to tell him there's no way in hell he'll be able to see me on Sky, and that in any case I know for a fact he'll be turning over to watch Top Gear at half-time. The game is about to begun. I am struck both at the desolate emptiness of much of the stadium and the dreadful state of the playing surface. No wonder the fans are staying away.
21:03 Even in the ultras area behind the goal things are a bit quieter than normal. The choruses of anti-Espanyol songs are met with no reply, as there can't be more than a dozen fans from Barcelona in the stadium. Atleti start in pretty dreadful fashion, as do their visitors.
21:16 The two guys sitting alongside me are discussing the 'chino'. I finally twig: it's Shunsuke Nakamura, playing on the near touchline for Espanyol. Of course he isn't Chinese at all. Both he and his team-mates are struggling to make much headway.
21:20 It's cold, uninspiring fare so far. The third bocata was definitely a good decision, though.
21:24 Finally a spark of action, Jose Antonio Reyes almost netting after good work from Kun Aguero. They say the little Argentine has been off form this season. Even when he's not at his best, he is a real danger.
21:27 Atleti take the lead. Diego Forlan has it in the net but Aguero takes the credit for the build-up. Reyes too, at that.
21:29 Forlan almost adds a second. Espanyol have offered nothing so far.
21:50 It's half-time. I reflect on the fact that Atleti have only won twice this season. I can see why: their defensive play lacks composure. Espanyol, though, are only mid-table and are on a terrible run of their own, so they can do nothing about it.
21:53 I step out onto the balcony and phone my girlfriend, while looking out over the city. I notice below at street level, the sweeping van is cleaning out the road. With 30,000-odd fans waiting to stream out, sunflower seeds in hand and programmes thrown at feet, I wonder why they don't wait another hour or so. I am told that the Clasico ended 1-0.
22:00 I make my way back to my seat, chastened by the wind. I covet the travel rug used by the old couple sitting in front of me, but decide not to begin an unseemly tug-of-war. The second half is underway shortly after.
22:09 Atleti's tails are up and they're going to score a second soon. At least they'd better - I need an excuse to stand up and get my circulation going again. (I'm not an Atleti fan, but when in the home end, one must do as the Indios do.)
Marca Media
22:22 There's the second. It's Aguero, and it's really well deserved by the little man. His free-kick looks like it clipped a defender en route to Kameni's bottom corner. Meanwhile Jose Manuel Reyes has picked up a knock.
22:29 Yeah, Reyes is off, and on comes Maxi.
22:40 I can hardly move due to the cold, and my notes are becoming increasingly illegible as my hands shake. I realise that anyone reading this by now will find the complaints competitive, but this doesn't heat me up.
22:43 Another goal from Kun, captain Simao setting him up! Atleti definitely have won now, and Espanyol look crushed. I decide that this is a finality, and make for the exit.
22:48 As I walk out of the gate, I hear a cheer go up: Atleti scored a fourth. That makes it sixteen goals for the day, and I saw fifteen of them.
22:55 I stop at a little grocery shop and buy two cans of Mahou. No need for the night to finish just yet.
23:10 Back at Piramides, I have just enough time to get the third-last train or so back to Atocha, and my day of football is at an end. I decide to wait until the following morning to check out the highlights of the Clasico. After all, Ibra's goal can't top anything I'd seen today... could it?
Nonetheless, with a little planning and a lot of public transport, one can still enjoy a feast of football in the Spanish capital. Goal.com's Ewan Macdonald did just that on Sunday, showing that there's more to life than the biggest fixture...
11:00 It's one hour until kick-off on the first pro game of the day here in Madrid. There is just time for a bocata de tortilla and a cerveza sin (I'm working, after all) at the stand-up cafe in Atocha train station. I take a glance at a copy of Marca as I spill crumbs all over the counter. Eighteen pages about the Clasico, give or take. Indeed, it's been on everyone's mind - but I won't be watching it. I have smaller fish to fry.
11:20 Well, a bit smaller, for the upcoming match between Rayo Vallecano and Real Sociedad is just 40 minutes away. Rayo are Madrid's "other" side, last represented in the top flight in 2003, having hovered between the first, second, and third levels for much of their recent history. This game sees high-flying Real - a first division side in all but status - come looking to protect their current third spot against Rayo's attack. I board the underground at Atocha Renfe, heading for Portazgo.
11:25 There aren't as many Rayo fans on the train as I expected, and I figure that the atmosphere will be somewhat muted.
11:28 Big mistake. I emerge from the Portazgo metro stop into a sea of colour and noise. Madrid's metro is one of the world's best, especially for football fans, and this is a classic example as to why. Rayo's Teresa Rivero stadium has a station literally right outside its front doorstep, more specifically next to the away entrance. From the looks of it, Real have brought a massive support down from the Basque country. No wonder: the winner of this game will cement their top three credentials.
11:45 I ask the man at the ticket office for a place in the 'fondo', behind the goal, as I know that this is where the vocal Rayo fans congregate. He won't sell me one - I don't ask why. Instead I hand over €20 and head to the top of the Tribuna Preferencia, or main stand.
11:55 The stadium's not quite full - there are gaps at either side of the fondo, and the front rows are nearly empty on what has been a rainy morning - but the volume is cranked up. The away section, directly opposite me on the top tier of the lateral stand, is absolutely full of blue and white shirts. I begin to notice several around me as well. No segregation at all - except in the fondo.
12:03 Rayo take the lead. Nestor Susaeta scores what I blithely assume will be the best goal of the day anywhere in Spain - a stunning volley from the edge of the area. I make a point of marking it with three stars in my notebook, meaning that I'm honour-bound to find a video of it later.
12:10 The three-sided stadium is a cauldron for noise, with the call-and-reply mode of chanting making for a great atmosphere. It belatedly occurs to me that the goalscorer for Rayo is ex-Real Sociedad.
12:17 Real equalise, and the hitherto-silent Basque fans erupt. The ones around me make themselves known, but there is no hint of trouble. A massive centenary banner appears in the away end, as if by magic.
12:18 That didn't last long: Rafa Garcia rifles home a half-volley from the edge of the box to make it 2-1.
12:30 Things are getting quieter until finally a well-taken free header from Carlos Bueno, the Uruguayan international, levels the score. I notice the ultras in the fondo have 'Sancionados' hung over their banner. What does this mean?
12:36 Three young guys appear on the roof behind the empty end of the ground to watch the game for free. I guess €15 saved are €15 earned.
12:50 Half-time, and it's been a wonderful spectacle so far. Getting up early - 10am is early - on a Sunday morning for this is a decision vindicated.
13:10 Rayo go ahead as Ruben Castro buries a diving header. The ultras are back in action. They have a banner - it reads 'Espe, aunque la mona se vista de seda, mona se queda.' "Although the monkey is wrapped in silk, it's still a monkey." I don't know who or what Espe is. I almost ask the guy next to me, then think better of it.
13:18 Real level yet again, this time through David Zurutuza. Will the goals ever stop?
13:45 In fact there are no more strikes as the exhausted crowd begin to fall silent. Well, that applies to the fans in the stand - in the fondo, a new banner (loosely translated) reads, "A great police presence means very little animation." That would explain the 'Sancionados' from earlier: apparently these fans have recently fallen foul of security, and possibly the club. That's why a foreigner wasn't allowed in the fondo. A Rayo player is sent off for a second bookable offence, but full-time follows right after.
14:10 Back at Atocha, it's been a fantastic day so far. A bottle of Aquarius later and I'm on the Renfe Cercanias train to Getafe Central. The train - fast, warm, quiet, and eminently cheap - is a welcome oasis.
14:35 I decide to have a little walk down the Calle de Madrid, Getafe's main street, to get a feel for the rest of the day's football. Getafe meet Xerez at 17:00, then there's the Clasico at 19:00, then finally Atletico Madrid face Espanyol at 21:00. Getafe, as a town, isn't exactly short on fans of all three of these sides. Judging from the hand-written posters in the windows of bars, the Clasico, naturally, has the most excitement around it, but a few promise to have the Getafe game on pay-per-view as well.
15:20 The sun has been out in spells but it's still bitterly cold. I read some more Marca but find my eyes darting from page to page without taking much in. If there's such a thing as Clasico overload, I've had a few days' worth.
16:22 I make my way back to Getafe Central, and board the underground to Los Espartales, which is just a stone's throw from Getafe's Coliseum Alonfo Perez. It's named for a man who never played for the club, but he remains the town's favourite footballing son.
16:25 I'm struck by the number of families and older ladies with Getafe scarves on the train, and on the streets. Geta have trouble attracting young fans to the stadium - Atleti and Real Madrid are hardly far away, after all - and it's definitely a senior bunch en route to the Coliseum today.
16:45 At €60 for a seat in the main tribuna, I begin to realise why the youngsters aren't exactly flocking to the stadium. Dimly remembering my own days as a strapping 21-year-old, I reflect that weekend recreation funds of that magnitude were more often lavished on a night out. No matter - kick off is approaching, and I'm glad to be here, a second bocata de tortilla and cerveza sin of the day in hand.
16:50 The small group of vocal Geta fans behind the far goal unfurl a black ribbon, and a banner commemorating Quini, a Getafe fan popular on web forums. I'm told that he was killed in a traffic accident. Awful stuff, but the remembrance is tasteful and no doubt well appreciated by his family and friends.
16:55 The small group of Xerez fans behind the other goal are split down the middle. On the left, families and old men with smart hats and travel rugs over their knees. On the right, a band of 30 or 40 hardcore supporters, on their feet, bouncing and singing. That's one way of keeping warm as the temperature approaches freezing.
17:03 The game's underway, and this being a match between a mid-table side and relegation certs, there isn't quite the table-topping frenzy of atmosphere we saw at Rayo. Still, Xerez's Keita gives the ball away, and unbelievably Soldado misses a one-on-one.
17:33 The Xerez fans are hardly shrinking violets, but they crank up the volume as Aythami gives them a scrappy lead. Poor defending and goalkeeping from Geta - it would have to be, as this is the Andalucian side's first away goal of the season. Virtually every player in an orange shirt joins the huddle, and it's clear that this means a lot to them. Coach Ziganda can't contain his joy, either - can Xerez break their away duck?
17:43 In a word, no. Roberto Soldado atones for his earlier miss by clipping home a rebounded effort from a tight angle.
17:45 Xerez utterly collapse as David Prieto sees red for tugging Daniel Parejo's shirt in the box just as the ex-Madridista prepares to pull the trigger. The visiting fans, right next to the incident, are furious with referee Muniz Fernandez, but a lack of protest from the player suggests its own story. Soldado buries the penalty, and Geta are 2-1 up at the break.
17:58 It's another great game of football, albeit at a slower pace and with less at stake, but I'm starting to regret that second sandwich.
18:03 I vaguely notice that right in front of me the television cameraman has fashioned his display visor out of cardboard. He's also smoking a cigarette. This is an accident waiting to happen. The Burger King parachute is cleared off the ground and the second half begins.
18:10 Keita is subbed off for Xerez after a miserable game. He kicks a ball off the stadium fence in frustration. Not his day at all. The sun's down, and it's absolutely freezing.
18:13 Keita can at least reflect on the fact that he isn't around to be culpable for what follows. Getafe score again, Dani Parejo tapping past Renan after Gavilan's free-kick.
18:14 Then another: Soldado gets his third, and it's a brilliant finish. He's unmarked at the far post but with such a tight angle and the 'keeper still to beat, the ex-Madrid man does brilliantly to steer the ball home. One for the ages - and a hat-trick. A fantastic goal - very different from Susaeta's, but just as good in its own way.
Getty Images
18:16 It's 5-1, and the game's over as a contest. Casquero takes up position on the edge of the area and fires home a predatory effort. He's scored dozens like it before, and there'll be more to come.
18:31 Things slow to a crawl on the pitch. The scoreboard, which gives goal updates from across Spain, largely goes unnoticed, but all fans look up when "Goal en Santander appears." A cheer goes up as it transpires that Deportivo are 1-0 ahead of Racing. Geta fans hate Racing, and vice versa - it's a weird historical rivalry based on past meetings and promotion challenges, not on geography.
18:50 Full-time, and I remember a statistic from the newspapers earlier in the week: Getafe have, for the first time in 59 attempts, won two Liga games in a row. No wonder the cheers at the end were so loud. One more game to go. I hear two guys on the way out of the stadium reflecting on the fact that Tenerife had come back from 3-0 down to draw at Valladolid.
18:59 From Los Espartales back to Getafe Central, the metro crowd are in high spirits, albeit frozen into submission. I change back to the Cercanias and go back to Atocha, flirting with the idea of a third bocata. (I feel a little better by now.)
19:10 Deciding against another sandwich, I instead go and wait for the train to Piramides.
19:23 The train is taking its time. I play some Bejeweled on my phone.
19:48 Where on earth is that train? In fact, where is everyone? Another train leaves from the other side of the platform, going to Las Rozas. Everyone else nearby gets on it. I'm the only one left. More Bejeweled.
19:53 I notice that two Atleti fans with scarves are walking down the stairs. Four platforms away.
19:54 Red-faced, I'm at the right platform.
20:15 At Piramides I'm refreshed, due to having had a seat on the train, something that will be unthinkable after the match.
20:19 I've made the walk from Piramides to the Vicente Calderon before, but I've never seen the bars so busy. It's going to be a small crowd tonight - it's freezing, and Atleti are on a dreadful run - but the cafes and tabernas are packed full of people watching the Clasico. Almost all of them are Atleti fans, no doubt delighted that their city rivals are 1-0 down to what I will not discover until later was a fantastic Zlatan Ibrahimovic strike.
20:22 A friend from Scotland texts to say he's watching the Clasico. He asks where I'm sitting, so that he might see me on TV. I text back a brief explanation.
20:25 The riot police are bringing down the grates on their armoured cars' windscreens. I begin to wonder if there is going to be trouble.
20:30 My friend texts back. He asks where I'm sitting at the Calderon.
20:31 Good question. I walk around the side of the famous stadium to the ticket office.
20:35 I'm approached by a man speaking extremely quickly. I ask him to slow down. Recognising my accent, he switches effortlessly to English. He's offering to sell me a top-tier ticket at what he assures me is a discount. Casting one eye over to the queue at the ticket line, I agree.
20:36 The man nods, smiles, and jogs 15 feet away to his accomplice, who with practised subtlety slips him a ticket. The man bounds back, presents it to me for inspection, as one would a fine wine, then looks up, hopefully. I hand him €40.
20:36:30 I immediately feel massively guilty at having bought a ticket from a tout, scalper - whatever you want to call them. This was not supposed to happen.
20:37 It then occurs to me that this ticket has no date on it. I begin to wonder if I've been scammed. The guilt is still all-consuming as I trudge over to the gate.
20:40 Mercy of mercies, the ticket scans successfully. It occurs to me that it's probably taken out of a season ticket book, hence the lack of date. I vow never to buy from a scalper again. I then revise my vow to include "unless in dire straits."
20:47 The Vicente Calderon is an underrated stadium, in my book. I make the climb to the top tier in leisurely fashion, stopping to look out at the residential surroundings, and the western fringes of the Madrid skyline, en route. What a shame it will be torn to the ground in a decade or so, if all goes to plan. This is my first time in this tribuna - previously I've been on the other side in the press area, where the view of the city is better once you're actually in your seat - and the sight is wonderful. I feel immensely privileged to have experienced it, even if I can hardly feel my legs because of the cold. Later, I find an old photo in the Goal.com archives, which becomes my desktop background.
Goal.com
20:50 Perhaps addled by the guilt and the bocatas, my stomach urges me to make use of the facilities. They are mercifully clean and well-appointed, albeit without paper. Of course, someone visiting more than one match in one day knows never to do so without a little packet of Kleenex and a tiny bottle of hand sanitiser.
20:54 Having singularly failed to learn my lesson, I purchase a third bocata and Laiker, making my three meals of the day absolutely identical. I begin to wonder if I'm developing scurvy.
20:59 Seated somewhere near my appointed row - it's hardly busy - I text my friend back to tell him there's no way in hell he'll be able to see me on Sky, and that in any case I know for a fact he'll be turning over to watch Top Gear at half-time. The game is about to begun. I am struck both at the desolate emptiness of much of the stadium and the dreadful state of the playing surface. No wonder the fans are staying away.
21:03 Even in the ultras area behind the goal things are a bit quieter than normal. The choruses of anti-Espanyol songs are met with no reply, as there can't be more than a dozen fans from Barcelona in the stadium. Atleti start in pretty dreadful fashion, as do their visitors.
21:16 The two guys sitting alongside me are discussing the 'chino'. I finally twig: it's Shunsuke Nakamura, playing on the near touchline for Espanyol. Of course he isn't Chinese at all. Both he and his team-mates are struggling to make much headway.
21:20 It's cold, uninspiring fare so far. The third bocata was definitely a good decision, though.
21:24 Finally a spark of action, Jose Antonio Reyes almost netting after good work from Kun Aguero. They say the little Argentine has been off form this season. Even when he's not at his best, he is a real danger.
21:27 Atleti take the lead. Diego Forlan has it in the net but Aguero takes the credit for the build-up. Reyes too, at that.
21:29 Forlan almost adds a second. Espanyol have offered nothing so far.
21:50 It's half-time. I reflect on the fact that Atleti have only won twice this season. I can see why: their defensive play lacks composure. Espanyol, though, are only mid-table and are on a terrible run of their own, so they can do nothing about it.
21:53 I step out onto the balcony and phone my girlfriend, while looking out over the city. I notice below at street level, the sweeping van is cleaning out the road. With 30,000-odd fans waiting to stream out, sunflower seeds in hand and programmes thrown at feet, I wonder why they don't wait another hour or so. I am told that the Clasico ended 1-0.
22:00 I make my way back to my seat, chastened by the wind. I covet the travel rug used by the old couple sitting in front of me, but decide not to begin an unseemly tug-of-war. The second half is underway shortly after.
22:09 Atleti's tails are up and they're going to score a second soon. At least they'd better - I need an excuse to stand up and get my circulation going again. (I'm not an Atleti fan, but when in the home end, one must do as the Indios do.)
Marca Media
22:22 There's the second. It's Aguero, and it's really well deserved by the little man. His free-kick looks like it clipped a defender en route to Kameni's bottom corner. Meanwhile Jose Manuel Reyes has picked up a knock.
22:29 Yeah, Reyes is off, and on comes Maxi.
22:40 I can hardly move due to the cold, and my notes are becoming increasingly illegible as my hands shake. I realise that anyone reading this by now will find the complaints competitive, but this doesn't heat me up.
22:43 Another goal from Kun, captain Simao setting him up! Atleti definitely have won now, and Espanyol look crushed. I decide that this is a finality, and make for the exit.
22:48 As I walk out of the gate, I hear a cheer go up: Atleti scored a fourth. That makes it sixteen goals for the day, and I saw fifteen of them.
22:55 I stop at a little grocery shop and buy two cans of Mahou. No need for the night to finish just yet.
23:10 Back at Piramides, I have just enough time to get the third-last train or so back to Atocha, and my day of football is at an end. I decide to wait until the following morning to check out the highlights of the Clasico. After all, Ibra's goal can't top anything I'd seen today... could it?
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