Madrid debauchery with the Decimoquinta

“I don’t know which team Jesús would be from, but I’m sure he would be happy for this cup,” said the Archbishop of Madrid, Monsignor Cobo, under the watchful eye of the white expedition. Thus began a day of celebrations that promised strong emotions and words at the height of a sporting feat that is difficult to compare. Nacho, the captain and holder of the 15th European Cup in the club’s history, sixth in ten years, then smiled, as if he had no doubt about the colors of the son of God, which could well be the same as those of the father. And there are few better than the still captain (there is no news about his immediate future) to certify a certain divine presence in some of the team’s impossible victories.

The children present in the basilica took advantage of the end of the archbishop’s speech to draw the attention of their heroes. “Modric, Modric!” shouted one with a scoundrel’s face while one of the priests called him to order with the gestures of a bossy referee. “Luka, Luka!” the reprimanded player then shouted, as if by sheer confidence he could save himself from the reprimand this time, aware that it is not at all easy to send off a Real Madrid player for a double yellow, especially in the middle of the Almudena Basilica. The cup then ascended to the heavens of the main altar, descended back to earth, everyone posed for the family photo (divine and mortal) and the expedition left for the second stop on this Champions Tour that was beginning to delight a hobby spread in tides throughout different parts of the city.

In case anyone had any doubts, there are Madrid fans to fill squares and streets all over the world, hundreds of thousands strategically distributed throughout the city based on their own expectations. There was no room for another soul in the Plaza del Sol, some keeping their place early in the morning so as not to miss the parade of their idols. “Champions, champions!” It was the war cry when the various television cameras encouraged them to come forward for the typical appeal shot. Children and not so children stoically endured the siege of a sun that claimed responsibility for its own square and received the white expedition with honors.

The two buses arrived escorted by the mounted guard of the local police (one of them, the father of the scorer Carvajal) who chose the whitest horses one could imagine for the occasion. President Isabel Díaz Ayuso was waiting for them at the Royal Post Office, also in white, ready to congratulate the champions and receive the mandatory commemorative t-shirt, one more in a personal collection that must number half a hundred, between one celebration and another. . She also gave Florentino Pérez a very flirtatious mini European Cup, one of those that also supports carnations that can be used to fill it with candy and put it at the entrance to the office.

“We are European champions again, right? It seems easy,” said Nacho at the start of the speeches, unleashing the euphoria of those present, who did not hesitate to interrupt him every time the captain let his emotion emerge. “Real Madrid has once again conquered the hearts of millions of people who dream of this emblem around the world,” Florentino underpinned the global spirit of a team that is Madrid everywhere. “You are building a legendary stage and you are giving us joy that we will never forget.” Everything exploded with the exit to the balcony of the cup and the footballers: what a thrill to be a child again, regardless, in any case, of age.

Waiting for them at the town hall was Mayor Martínez-Almeyda, a self-confessed mattress fan, but recently married to a Real Madrid fan, Teresa, no less self-confessed than him and who ends up being the custodian of all those t-shirts that Florentino Pérez gives him on each visit. “Today you came with a white shirt,” Nacho joked with the Madrid councilor. Outside, in the surroundings of Cibeles, the white magma was beginning to catch fire with the invaluable help of a DJ and the unbroken desire to party.

Real Madrid fans have become accustomed to celebrating their great victories at two speeds. It was seen on Saturday on the field, after the second goal, with Toni Kroos raising his arms without speeding up his pace (what better farewell for the king of the metronome) while Rudiger, Carvajal or Valverde passed by him like airplanes. The same thing happens on the streets: some fans are satisfied with emotional restraint and others need to express their joy like children with some type of hyperactivity, in this case emotional: their Madrid, Madrid again, makes their blood boil. and now everyone is making their own broth.

“I already need the sixteenth, baby,” one girl says to another while they wait for the team to arrive among the crowd of Cibeles. That’s where Kylian Mbappé comes, the only absence in celebrations that are not yet his, but almost. And it was celebrated beautifully, of course, with Carlo Ancelotti in charge of the operations to demonstrate, once again, that nothing is coincidental, not even debauchery.

First came the obligatory change of clothing. The ceremonial jackets gave way to t-shirts with the number fifteen on the back, sunglasses, caps, scarves, flags tied around the waist, Ancelotti’s cigar… The figurative liturgy of Madrid in the celebrations also He has been feeding his own legend since Nacho was a corporal. Today, having become a brand new captain, he planted a kiss on the goddess Cybele that could very well be the last, which also does not mean anything, since last is just a word.

Back on the bus, and already on the way to the Santiago Bernabéu, the night also wanted to join the celebration with that particular atmosphere that it gives to cities in celebration. The streetlights, neon lights and mobile phone screens brought an extra point of brightness to a celebration that had begun in the middle of the afternoon at the destination and under a blazing sun, ending who knows when and we’ll see where. There’s a reason Juan Gómez said, Juanito, that legendary thing that “ninety minutes at the Bernabéu are too long”: precisely for this reason.

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