Every sportscaster recalls a "playoff atmosphere" when they want to describe intensity at a sporting event. I suppose this is supposed to take into account the players, coaches and fans, but I don't believe in it anymore.
If John Madden or Joe Buck wants to tell me that a game has intensity about it, they should start describing that intensity as a "Real Madrid atmosphere."
Honestly, I've been to playoff games before, even recently; for example, games one and six of the NLCS last year at Busch Stadium and the last game that Michael Jordan played in at the Chicago Stadium, back in the 1993 NBA Finals. But I'm not sure if they even touch the feeling of being in Estadio Santiago Bernebeau.
Real, one of the biggest European soccer powerhouses, is trailing their archrival, Barcelona, in the Liga Primera standings, and needs to win out to take the league championship. The players know this, as does the entire city of Madrid. On game days, Real and Barça are the lead news stories and are on the cover of every paper. Real is fighting tooth and nail to top Barça in the standings.
After beating Barça in their second game in the home-and-home series, Real beat Levante on April 17. Their next obstacle was Villareal, in Madrid. Villareal came into the game sitting fourth in the league standings, and has enjoyed tremendous goal production throughout the season.
As Villareal emerged from their locker room into the cavernous stadium, 80,000-plus whistled at them. Whistling, as I learned on Saturday night, is the European, and substantially more obnoxious, cousin to booing.
As the game started, the fans only got louder. The big guy sitting to the right of me pulled out his drum, beating it rhythmically, while the other Madrid fans chanted along. The kid behind me was blowing on his train whistle, as was every other kid under the age of 16 in the stadium.
Every Madrid native waved their Real scarves at the field.
The man sitting directly behind me struck up a conversation early in the game, and he was nice enough to teach me some soccer vocabulary in Spanish. For example, "fuera juego" means off-side, "un delantero" is an attacker and "Ronaldo" is Madrid-speak for god.
Not to be outdone, the gentleman sitting next to, and, quite honestly, on top of me, thought it would be good to help develop my vocabulary as well.
His opportunity came in the first half as well, when the referee awarded a penalty kick to a Villareal player who was taken down in the Real penalty area.
Though the referee was out of position, and Roberto Carlos did not appear to have been guilty of the foul, he blew the whistle. My seat buddy jumped up, screaming at the referee. All that I can print is "payaso," which means "clown."
What amazed me most wasn't the man's mouth, but that he was able to scream such a string of cuss words. Smoking is legal in the seats here, and he must have gone through eight cigarettes by halftime.
After the teams came back from the half, I got to see Real put on a display that still has me in awe. I was lucky enough to get tickets 13 rows from the corner flag, and could have spit on David Beckham while he was swinging the ball from the corner to the goal mouth.
Watching him kick a ball is like watching a Barry Zito curveball snap across the plate, falling into the perfect location. However, I've never seen Zito snap his curve on a straight line, parallel to his hips. Even watching Beckham run is poetry in motion.
Ronaldo made his play to steal the show, however. He was responsible for netting the first goal, or "gol" in Spanish. After being tripped in the penalty area twice, Ronaldo hammered a header into the back of the net from a Zidane cross. The big French midfielder sent the ball from the corner, along the goal line to the far bar, where Ronaldo hit and buried it.
Four minutes later, substitute Michel Salgado buried the go-ahead goal, setting Real ahead for good. The goal wasn't spectacular for the location or skill, but because the Whites were playing short. Defender Walter Samuel was ejected after picking up his second yellow card in the 72nd minute.
The intensity of the game continued through the last whistle, including a 20-man skirmish with about a minute left in the extra time. Zidane seemed not to be satisfied with only tallying an assist, and threw a punch and picked up a red card. Sanjuan Alvarez of Villareal, who was tangled up with Zidane in the scrum, was also sent packing.
Although Real spent the last 15 minutes of the match killing the clock, the Real fans sustained the extreme noise level. Just talking to the person in the next seat required a yell.
After the final whistle sounded, these Spanish hoodlums alternated between whistling as Villareal and the referees left, and cheering for the Whites and Beckham.
Leaving the stadium, though, snapped me back into the sports reality that I have grown accustomed to. The massive crush of fans was pouring down one stairway into the metro, just like Busch Stadium. I even saw another fan with a Cubs hat, just like back home.
I just hope that someone tells John and Joe that the similarities end there.
