Rodrigo Moreno sprinted towards the near post, slotted the ball
Authentic Mike Napoli Jersey past Marc-André ter Stegen and ducked behind the goal at the north end of Mestalla, team-mates racing to join the celebrations. In front of him, Valencia’s fans went wild; behind him a ballboy in a grey bib was busy reaching into a plastic carrier bag. David Vassilev is 14, he plays for Valencia’s Infantil A and in the middle of all the noise and excitement, the gathering crowd, players piling on, he had a job to do. He pulled out a big fuzzy orange wig he’d been hiding and handed it over. Rodrigo put it on and, taking a step back, pointed to the sky. Referee Ignacio Iglesias Villanueva headed over, card ready, but something stopped him, as if on his way it dawned on him what this was.
It was Sunday night at Mestalla, Valencia versus Barcelona. That morning at the parish of José María Escrivá they
http://www.officialauthenticredskinsstore.com/womens_derek_carrier_jersey had held the funeral of former Valencia president Jaume
http://www.officialcardinalsnflproshop.com/WOMENS_YOUTH_MARKUS_GOLDEN_JERSEY.html Ortí, who passed away on Friday after long being ill with lung cancer, aged 70. On his lapel, son Jaume wore Ortí’s Valencia badge, given to those who have been members 50 years. Among those gathered was club president Anil Murthy, along with four former presidents. At a club too often divided, few united like Ortí. Few won like him, either. Bonico, they called him – roughly, Mr Nice Guy. The mourners were joined by the presidents of Levante and Villarreal, and ex-players gathered too. It was match day and current players couldn’t be there, but some had been to the chapel of rest the previous afternoon.
As they left, the striker Rodrigo, who’d been speaking to Ortí’s widow and his children, had an idea. He stopped by a shop and bought a wig. Before Sunday’s matchhe handed it to David. “If I score, give me this”. And while there must be a world of unfulfilled celebrations out there, on 60 minutes, he did score. David pulled out the bag and Rodrigo pulled on the wig. Everyone understood immediately – even the referee did eventually – just as they’d understood when a giant fan, two metres wide, was carried on to the pitch before the game, greeted by applause. Made by a Valencia supporters’ club in Aldaya in 1971 to celebrate winning the league at Sarriá, Ortí had brought it out 31 years later when they took the title in 2002 and again in 2004, parading it round the pitch.
He also wore a big fuzzy orange wig.
Around Mestalla on Sunday night, others did the same. The minute’s silence became
Justin Braun Womens Jersey a minute’s applause, more meaningful. “I decided to honour his memory and everything he did for the club,” Rodrigo said afterwards. What Ortí had done was huge; fans in similar wigs were paying homage to the man who, in three years as president, won two league titles, the Uefa Cup and European Super Cup, with Rafa Benítez as manager. A banner running across the south stand read: “Jaume Ortí: the president of a champion Valencia. Rest in peace.” As if the symbolism was not powerful enough, when Rodrigo stood there, they probably felt more like contenders, more like what they’re supposed to be, than at any time since.
Valencia’s bus had crawled into Mestalla two hours before kick-off, barely able to edge its way along Avenida Suecia to the gate. Thousands of fans were there to greet it, packed in and singing. “From inside the bus, it was emotional: the lads are awakening these great fans,” said Rubén Uría, Valencia’s assistant coach. “When you see that, it’s impossible not to go out onto the pitch like mad men,” said Gabriel. Valencia arrived unbeaten, 12 weeks into the season, their best ever start. After two years of problems, twice finishing 12th, the second division closer than Europe, they are a club restructured and reborn, fans revived. People had started daring to ask the question, even inside the club: could they win the league? This match – first versus second – would go some way to answering that. Beat Barcelona and they could. And now here they were beating Barcelona.
For most of the first half, it hadn’t looked likely. “Barcelona used to be a Rolls Royce; now they’re a nice 4x4,” Roberto Palomar wrote in Marca. “The driver is the same: Leo Messi. And he’d be effective driving a cement mixer.” Yet Barcelona were playing better than they have all season, looking more like the team they’re supposed to be, if not quite the Roller they once were, moving the ball fast and pressing high, dominating territory and enjoying 76% of the possession. Samuel Umtiti was a cool as ever; Sergio Busquets was even calmer, above it all; Messi, his contract finally signed, the photo finally taken, was active; and Andrés Iniesta was enjoying his best game this year. If they hadn’t created many chances, they still should have led by half-time. “They were quite a lot better than us,” Rodrigo admitted.
Valencia had just one opportunity, racing away with the speed and precision that defines them under Marcelino, Simone Zaza’s shot eventually pulled wide. For once, they caught Barcelona’s players out of position and there was a particular reason for that: half of them were down in the other corner, confronting the linesman who hadn’t seen Messi’s shot slip through Neto’s hands and legs and well over the line. As Santi Giménez put it in AS: 47,775 people saw that it had gone in; the only two people who didn’t are the ones actually paid to see it go in.
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