Something I just wrote, needs editing , About Madrid , Raul and Ramos.

by Le Samourai Sat Aug 18, 2012 3:33 am

A new season begins.

When Raul left, it felt as if the enthusiasm and essence of what being a Madrista means had been thrown away. Despite playing alongside the true giants of the modern game (Zidane and Ronaldo come to mind) , it was Raul that symbolized the verve ,the enthusiasm and above all the dogmatic bravery of what being a Madrista meant . His sudden departure, and the ensuing revolution which would take place , his iconic 7 now comfortably fitted on the back of a global superstar who perhaps surpassed the magnitude of any ever to call the the Bernebau his home. Our identity had been lost in a sea of stars, a circus of magicians, and the best director in the world behind the camera. Without doubt , with Barcelona meteoric rise, these changes stirred excitement, but still, something was missing.

Raul’s elegance, his classical grace, humility and unmistakably human vision of the world, one which we can all relate to was what defined him. His image was that of a quintessential family man, the brother, the husband, the father of four boys. He never mistook his midas touch as one which was paramount to that of a commoner.

In an era where fastidiously-crafted advertisements and gimmicks are imperative in the hunt for the attention of an increasingly impatient and starved public, Raul remained a most habitual man and still managed to command it all.

He celebrated his imperfections.

He never bothered to fashion his messy hair or crooked teeth and his celebrations on the pitch were always modest and composed as the manner in which he scored them (at least most of the time).

So who could possibly replace him?

There were obvious choices, San Iker, just as engraved a symbol to Madrid as Raul had been, his heroics for club and country have been well documented and his humility , grace and elegance matches that of Raul.

Or Cristiano Ronaldo, the new superstar who had already inherited his number, was his self marketing and superstardom be the defining image of Madrid in this modern world of where business and commerce often interrupts the simple pleasures derived from the beautiful game?.

Surprisingly neither.

From the golden brown sands of the Andalusian coast to the luminous glow of the world greatest stadiums, Sergio Ramos was never shy of the moment. His story is that of a passionate boy who cried for days every time his cried every time Espana was ousted from an international competition, and who's only solace was his bittersweet relationship with the simplest of objects, a football..

So fitting that someone like him would inherit Raul’s and allow us to understand what Madrista means. You would struggle to find two individuals who differed so much, yet who served as the driving force behind the same cause.

Sergio Ramos , is not classical, he is not elegant, he is not graceful, he does not have crooked teeth or messy hair, and he does not shy away from the limelight. No, he is not Raul, but their similarities begin and end in perhaps the most meaningful of organs, their heart.

His move to the centre , to the core of Madrid’s defense has allowed awakened an inspirational , liberalizing quality that no one knew existed in the crazy kid from Seville. Who knew that the bombarding manic right back who had been instrumental in Espana’s conquer of Europe and later the world would suddenly assume the role as leader. For the many others better suited to such a position (Xabi and Iker’s calm and collected persona’s spring to mind), none have his passion , none have his fire , none have his personality.

And as amazing a figure Raul was , it was time for a change, not for a descent into the marketing jungle that is world football, but for a return to the grit and valor that made the Romans the greatest empire the world had ever seen. That made the Spartans the warriors that freed Greece from Persia. We needed some of that.

He never claimed to support us as a child, has never once claimed Madrid was his dream , but that doesn’t matter because here he is , every day, going to war for whatever shirt he’s put in, whether it’s the famous white of Madrid or the bood stained red of Espana , he is ferocious and belligerent, pounding his heart into the ground for that shirt and not stopping until everyone around him does the same.

His career is filled with defining moments which hinted at this coarse capacity to command his team mates. His presence in the the Spanish teams that conquered Europe and later the world is often underestimated, arguably the best Spanish defender on both occasions (an honour obviously shared with Barcelona’s very own version of him Carles Puyol). His spectacular play in both tournaments capped off in spectacular fashion by heroic performances in both finals , clearly indicated that even at a young age he was one for the big stage. And so he fulfilled the promises he made to himself as a child and to a nation as a man in helping them to every level of glory they could possibly hope for.

However, despite a pair of La Liga titles, one trophy has always proved elusive. The Champions league, affectionately termed La “decima” by those fans who eagerly awaited its eventual return to Madrid.

Bayern Munich stood in his way. After 210 minutes the aggregate scores were level and Ramos surely dwelling on the fact that it was possibly his own mistake 180 minutes of football earlier which had cost Madrid direct passage to the final and had entangled them in football’s equivalent of Russian Roulette....penalty kicks. The two superstars, the two winners of Footballs most prestigious prize had already missed their penalties and the dream was quickly fading, and Madrid needed a hero to help Iker Casillas snatch victory from defeat.

So Sergio stepped up and sent the object he had befriended 20 years earlier into the stands.

The dream had ended, and Sergio Ramos was left in a role unfamiliar to him, that of the villain.

La liga success merely amplified the pain, the dreams of a perfect season lost once more.

However, he could not dwell on this defeat though it was always in the back of his mind, even the greatest warrior sometimes allows self doubt to internally tear him apart. Spain needed a hero more than ever, economic crisis had ravaged the nation and they now every ounce of spirit of the common people had been channelled into La Roja, with the hope that even for one moment the people of Spain might forget their plight and shower in glory of being European champions once more.

The Spanish were held by Italy on the opening day, which tempered expectations back home. But with Ramos at the core of the defense they eaily disposed of Ireand Croatia and France without conceding.

Then the Portuguese flotilla lead by his Madrid teammate Cristiano Ronaldo stood between Espana and another chance at European glory. For 120 minutes he and his Spanish teammates repelled every attack the Portuguese had to offer, but that was not enough. The Spanish attack failed to break down the equally steadfast Portugese defense and once again Ramos had found himself in a penalty shootout, this time with the knowledge that shooting himself once more like he had done a mere month before would destroy the hopes of a nation. That somewhere in Seville, in his hometown of Camas, another young boy would cry uncontrollably like he had done .

That was the cost of failure.

So with the game on the line he was at centre circle once again (this time in a slightly more favourable position).He teed up the ball and powering forward he produced something that no one expected. His chip was as flawless as it was courageous, composure and elegance that no one knew he had in him.
But which true Madrid fan can ever be surprised by Sergio Ramos.

A clean sheet against Italy in a commanding 4-0 win in the final and a nation rejoiced, it’s 2nd European championship in a row and this time it was Ramos who had won the pivotal battle. It was fitting as it’s in his nature, he demands the moment and when it comes he’s brave enough to take it and live with the consequences.

He will be in the final battle whether as the loser whether his role is that of Achilles or Hector.
Just like the sea fearing men of his hometown of Seville, the port city which hosted Christopher Colombus expedition to the new world, he will once again lead our quest for European glory. We will find ourselves in uncharted waters and we will need our captains to steady the tide and give men the inspiration to continue.

He is that person.

Just as in the final couplet of the famed poem Invictus he is the captain of his fate and Master of his own soul.