MY RED-AND-WHITE GODFATHER

Not everyone is as lucky as I am. Because everyone (or almost everyone) has a godfather, but mine is red-and-white. One of the real ones, one of the cool ones.

I know he has many godchildren, and when he first became my godfather, I wasn’t very aware of what was coming my way. When I first offered him my arm to walk down the stairs to the auditorium at the Metropolitano, I was very clear that I could learn many things from him. That day, his supporters’ club was receiving a well-deserved tribute for years and years of loyalty to the Club, and as we descended those steps, he told me about his beginnings in short strides. He was taken to the front rows, as befits a member whose number is below 300, and at that moment, I already felt a little orphaned.

And I say what was coming my way because his endless stories, his vast knowledge of the Club and its ins and outs, his anecdotes and the way he tells them, sometimes make my head spin from knowing all that he has lived through while never ceasing to believe, all that he conveys with his unconditional love for Atleti, for its emblem, for its people. And I am fortunate to consider myself his friend.

Because that’s what he is: he is the fan that every team would love to have. Whether the boys, the girls, the juniors, or the youth teams are playing, whether the sun is blazing or it’s pouring down, whether there are many spectators or he is alone with his megaphone, whether he has to go to Alcalá or Cerro or even to hell itself. His encouragement is contagious, he cheers on the team and the fans, and he never falters. He is always there.

When I see him and offer him my arm to walk together, I know that at some point he will say, “I’m going to introduce you to…”. Walking around the Metropolitano with him is an exercise that takes time because everyone stops to greet him. His generosity is immense, his little gifts come from the heart, and his wise comments spice up any conversation, making it more interesting and enjoyable. Everyone knows him, and he knows everyone.

They say that those who don’t have a godfather don’t get baptized, and I can assure you that with him, I have gone through almost all the sacraments: I have been baptized, taken communion, been confirmed, not married in the church due to life’s circumstances, and I hope that extreme unction is centuries away, but what I can assure is that he has made me a believer.

Incidentally, I discovered the other day that I don’t know his exact name, but I do know he is Manolo, my Manolo, everyone’s Barragán. He is living history, a top-notch fan, and one of the reasons to be an Atleti supporter.

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