FC Sevilla vs. Atletico Madrid

This is passion. And pride. This is love. And this is hate. Above all, however, this is undying, all engaging, heart wrenching, stomach churning loyalty. They call themselves ‘sevillistas’. It isn’t just somebody from Sevilla, but it is a diehard supporter of the Sevillan Fútbol Club. ‘Sevillista’: it is their identity. They live and die with the team. From birth they are raised to love Sevillan soccer, it is in their blood and it will be in the blood of their children, their children’s kids and so on down the line. When was the last time you rode 17 hours in a bus to watch a game, then, when it finished, got right back on that bus and rode another 17 hours home? When was the last time you cried because your team won? There are over 50 songs that every sevillista knows by heart and from the moment we stepped off of our 12 hour train ride to Barcelona (we were the lucky ones) to the moment that everybody passed out from pure exhaustion on the train ride home it was as if you were in a concert.

The game was against Atletico Madrid, one of Sevilla’s most hated rivals. It was the final of the Spanish Copa (Tournament) ‘El Copa del S.M. El Rey’ and the drive from Sevilla to Barcelona was over 1000 km – the farthest any participant in the copa del rey had ever had to drive. Not even that, however, could stop the sevillistas from coming in full flow. Over 150 buses, 4 trains and a few planes specifically reserved for sevillistas left Sevilla Tuesday night. In order to get tickets for the game you have to be a member of Sevilla Fútbol or know a member (each member is given one extra ticket). Luckily for me, one of my good Sevillan friends got me a ticket and I went with him, my other friend, both of their Dads and two of their cousins to the game. We were lucky to have the train, though it still took a good 12 hours to arrive. We got to Barcelona, after about 3 hours of sleep, at 10:00 in the morning – 9 hours before the start of the game. We spent the next few hours wandering around Barcelona, engaging in some touristy activities then around 3 we went to the designated sevillista ‘campo’ (an area reserved for Sevillan fans about 1 mile away from the area reserved for Atletico fans in order to avoid conflict). That was the ‘pep rally’ – as if anybody really needed it. A famous Spanish DJ performed, playing pump up music and sevillista songs for a full 5 hours. Just when I thought I was going to pass out from exhaustion, 7:30pm rolled around and, at long last, the stadium gates opened.

Almost half of the stadium was reserved for us, for the sevillistas, and the other part (a little bit bigger because there were more of them due to the proximity of Madrid and Barcelona) was reserved for the Atletico fans. The next two hours were a competition between the fans to see who could sing the loudest/who had the best songs. Being that I have converted to a Sevillista my opinion could be a little bit biased, but I think we won that competition fair and square.

When the team came out the whole crowd jumped on its feet, waving flags, scarves, hats (Del Nido, the president of Sevilla, is famous for wearing a ---- hat and almost every Sevilla fan in the stadium had a replica of it) and burst into the famous, and beautiful, song of Sevilla. (If you want to listen to it, go to YouTube and type “himno official de Sevilla Fútbol Club).

The game itself was incredible. The noise in the stadium never let down and the play was of the highest of quality. All analysits expected that Atletico would beat Sevilla going into the game, so when we scored the first goal with 6 minutes in our part of the stadium went absolutely loco. I have never hugged so many unknown people in my life. The rest of the game was a nail bitter until the 83 minute when the fan favorite, Jesus Navas, scored the second goal of the game. When the game ended I turned around to hug everybody I was caught off guard to find that tears were filling up their eyes. That’s how much this sport, this team, means to them. It isn’t just a college sporting event where the fans go crazy all game and then, whether or not their team wins, they go party afterwards. This is true, undeniable loyalty. Passion at its fullest. I mean, I love the Broncos, but I don’t think that I would cry if they won the Superbowl.

The 12 hour train ride home wasn’t exactly what I was craving when we finally left the stadium, 2 hours after the game ended, but that was without a doubt one of the most amazing experiences I had in Spain and ‘la glinda de la tarta’ as my Sevillan friends kept saying, ‘the icing on the cake’. The celebration still wasn’t over the next day though. The soccer team started its parade through the city at 6 pm and the celebrations continued on to 2 that morning.