Spain won the World Cup today in a game that nearly gave me a heart attack. It was a bit tough for me to cheer for so many Barcelona players wearing the Castillian crest on their shirts, but thankfully Iker Casillas, Real Madrid's goal keeper, saved the game with two incredible stops before Andres Iniesta rocked home a goal deep in extra time.
I hadn't washed my navy blue Spain jersey since the team beat Portugal in the round of 16. I can finally clean that poor shirt, and might be on the prowl for another piece of team wear. Specifically, I'm thinking about one that has the world champion star over the national team embroidery. Might have to go with a red one.
Watching the game at a bar in Boulder, I started thinking about the year I spent over in Madrid. The memory of all the close friends I made in that wonderful city flooded back, and as I raised my hands in celebration of the winning goal, I was right back in La Pedriza with Matt, Tom, and Neil.
Seeing Spanish fans packed into the Plaza de Colon for the game, screaming their hopes at the enormous television screens set up for public viewing, brought me back. The streets of Moncloa rang with my footsteps as I paraded between bars with Vino and Nicole. Late nights on The Metro, our apartment above the Hotel Melia, and Pilar's place above Blended.
None of that is going to mean much unless you've been to those same places. Even then, they might not have the same weight. Living in Spain for me was such a turning point. So many good memories are rooted in Iberia, and the game brought so many of them back. Viva España!
1 comment:
and just imagine how much fun you could have had if you had lived in BARCELONA instead! :-) either way, we can both proudly say Viva España! cheers, brother!
Post a Comment