After reading up about it I discovered a bit more information on the football wave.
Here is a short video of a wave at Camp Nou. It falters at first but then sweeps around the stadium.
Watching it on the video made me think about the contradictory feelings I get in large crowds at spectacular events. Memories of marching through London with hundreds of thousands of people in the 1970’s and 80’s. Good causes but also an awareness of the potential loss of identity in a throng.
On one level we were walking in small groups, chatting or singing or chanting. On another you could feel the power of the crowd – much much stronger than the sum of the individuals.
In general I am someone who likes to feel independent. I don’t easily join in chanting or whooping or hollering in a group. I can feel self conscious and stay a little apart. I want to keep my right to choose.
But there is another part of me that thrills to the rush of energy that arises when a massive crowd comes together as one. As if we have something more than just our individuality and separateness.
But it feels dangerous doesn’t it? And history confirms this.
I always prefer singing to chanting – I wonder why this is?
Author: Kate Wilson
Una Bandera ens Agermana
Last night we suddenly were offered tickets for the football. In Catalunya football means FC Barcelona. And the match we saw ended like this
I thought Scotland was football mad until I came here – Messi, Camp Nou and the club that is ‘més que un club’ – inspire passionate devotion and on the television you can rarely escape news from Barça for more than 60 minutes. I don’t know much about football and I have never even been to a schoolboys match but I was very excited at the prospect of the real thing. And since my decision last year to learn more I have been waiting for the chance to see them play.
I remember living in Tottenham, London and on Saturdays avoiding the High Street as I didn’t like being being jostled and teased by the sometimes drunk and excitable fans as they drove up towards the stadium like a herd of young bullocks.
Arriving at Camp Nou was very different. We easily found a space in a nearby car park and although there were lots of people nudging gently up the street wearing scarlet and blue scarves, they were chatting happily with no sign of beer cans or bellies
Once inside the turnstile we headed for our door – Porta 99. Suddenly I remembered a dream from years ago of going to a football match. The entrance was just the same, like passing through layers of an onion towards the centre where the action would take place. Without ever visiting a stadium I knew what it would be like! Perhaps dreams really do foretell future sometimes.
Inside we had seats behind the north goal
The pitch seemed brighter and more vivid than I had expected. Smaller too and more intimate. When the players came out I had one of those ‘hey this is for real’ moments – it was nothing like watching football on television.
The match was absorbing. Especially the first half when 3 goals came in quick succession. There is a helpful screen above the seating just in case you missed the huge burst of applause, cries and emotion.
I wanted Almeria to score at least once so that it wasn’t so much like slaughtering the innocent but after a while I stopped caring and just enjoyed the spectacle.
……Pause to wonder – is this such a good thing?
People say that it is better on TV as you can see everything properly. For me the opposite was true. I liked being able to watch the parts that the TV doesn’t show. From what you see on the television you’d think they all run about all the time but they don’t. Messi sometimes just ambles about in his orange shoes
He springs into action when the ball comes near and then his legs move like motors. I watched the Almerian goalkeeper helping Xavi when he was rolling groaning on the ground and all the action and everyone else had moved to the other end of the pitch. I watched Guardiola on the sidelines, dressed in a sharp suit and very long shoes that didn’t look suitable for running anywhere
In the second half during a lull in the action the crowd started ‘una onada’ – a wave of hands that ripples around the crowd – as it nears you a shout goes up, que ve, que ve, que veeeeee! And then you join in by standing up and raising and lowering your arms. I have no idea if this is a normal football crowd game or not but it was impressive to feel it for the first time. And there is also something satisfying about moving the action off the pitch for a few moments and creating a massive wave with thousands of other people.
Messi and Guardiola line dancing together…..
At half time the pitch is sprinkled with water – the team likes it wet as the ball moves faster. They also slip more often but other teams find it a disadvantage if they are used to dry grass.
I don’t normally put pictures of me on the blog but… …just to prove I was there….
and if you would like to hear the Barça anthem that is sung at the beginning and close of play here it is
Remember/Recorda 17th Stone
Every day
I need
a time to gather myself.
I can survive without it
But then something falters
Cada dia
Necessito
un temps per recollir-me.
Puc sobreviure sense això
Però aixi quelcom desconfia
Hearing. The 16th Stone
Caged birds
Singing on the balconies
The tethered collie barking
As we pass
At least they have
The power of speech
And I can listen
Attentively
Can you help me please?
If you were a Spanish person in Barcelona who didn’t speak English and needed to ask someone for help – perhaps to find the nearest pharmacy, or the way to Diagonal, or to know if you are on the right train for Sant Celoni……..if you were this person, would you approach me for the answer?
Would you go up to a middle-aged blond blue-eyed British looking woman listening to an ipod and ask her – in castellano – for help in using the metro ticket machine?
This has been happening to me for about the past year. Almost every day someone comes up and asks me for help with directions or finding something or opening hours. Somehow and without my knowing how or why I have become a designated information person. And often strangely, I know the answer.
However in the Caixa Forum exhibition Rutes d’Arabia I was still very surprised when a woman sidled up to me while I was drawing a statue and asked ‘el texto, es en arameu?’ We had to read the answer together from the adjacent plaque but I was able to tell her ‘si, es en arameu’ and thus I learnt a new word.
These two headless figures were only discovered recently – they are massive and powerful. Twelve were found and three are in the exhibition. Each of them is sculpted out of a single piece of sandstone with such skill that it seems there was a sculpture school in this place producing masters of the art
This was my second visit to this exhibition of archaeological finds from Saudi Arabia – it is an amazing collection of pieces some of which are from 4000 years before Christ. My first visit was to get to know a little about the history of the important places and ancient trading routes that cross the land. The second visit was simply to draw what caught my eye
Here is the statue with the text in Arimeu.
I decided this visit not to try and understand all the background history which can feel overwhelming and exhausts my brain. I just let my eye guide me around the rooms and when something attracted my attention I went and tried to draw it. It has been a while since I made lines on paper and I was shocked at how wobbly they were but the act of drawing was the opposite of overwhelming and exhausting – I left the exhibition feeling renewed. In fact I had so much energy I decided to visit another exhibition in the Caixa – Humà, Massa Humà. For more on this see my next post










