Catalunya adventure

Lo lo lo lo lo lo, lo lo lo lo lo lo, lo lo lo, Barca, Barca Baaaaarca.
Por qué Por qué Por qué Por qué Por qué Por qué Por qué Por qué
Messi Messi Messi Messi Messi Messi Messi Messi Messi Messi Messi
Xavi Xavi Xavi, Villa Villa Villa, Iniesta Iniesta Iniesta

I can’t comprehend or speak a thing in Spanish, a language I have wanted to learn for quite some time. But after an historic immersion in Barcelona supporters at last weekend’s Champions League final at Wembley where La Blaugrana took Manchester United to the cleaners, my classes have started in earnest.

Sat in the sea of blau (blue) and azul grana (deep red), I witnessed arguably the greatest team of all time dismantle English champions Manchester United in a method that was as beautiful as it was brutal.
There was not a single chance that United could upset the bookies against a team that continues to redefine the art of distribution, movement and skill with every passing game.

But my lasting memory at the aesthetic venue that is Wembley was the incredibly thunderous, manic atmosphere generated by the huge masses of Barca and Man United fans before and during the tie.

It wasn’t the tens of thousands of football fans who descended on London from all continents of the world. Rather it was their capacity to make time come to a still; their power to change the colours of the horizon!

It was as if everything came to a stop. In a way, Harold Camping’s premonition came to pass. Somehow. I joined Smart TV winners Dickson Muhwezi, Moses Banturaki, Silver Rugambwa and the company’s head of marketing Herbert Mucunguzi, at Hyde Park for a daylong festivity of the Champions League early morning on match day before we caught the train to Wembley.

Arriving at the stadium six hours to kickoff, I was captivated by the different jerseys and names from generations gone by of both teams. There was this Barcelona fan wearing the replica of the Dream Team of 1992 with the name Josep Guardiola. Another had a La Blaugrana shirt of Diego Armando Maradona. There were many. Shirts with Mark Hughes, Gary Lineker, Sergi Barjuan, Abelardo, Rivaldo, Hristo Stoichkov and Johan Cruyff passed by.

United’s Sharp shirt icons Bryan Robson, Eric Cantona, Gary Pallister, Paul McGrath and Mark Hughes (he played for Barca and Man United) were also worn by some in the multitudes. Clearly both sets of fans appreciate the great histories of their clubs.

Three hours to the game, there was this section of heavily intoxicated rival fans courteously goading themselves like the result depended on it. The irony is that they couldn’t understand themselves; United fans were chanting and mocking in English, with Barca fans hitting back in, eh, Catalan. Did I say I had undergone my first elementary lesson in Spanish?
Anyway the chanting went on in the midst of a drizzle that no one seemed to notice. All that mattered was the showdown that lay ahead. Pints of Heineken, the official Champions League beer, were being downed like they were handed out free on a promotion and the Ugandan crew ably demonstrated they are more than a match for anyone.

I took my seat in Wembley exactly two hours to kick off, by which time the Barca section was already half full. Edu, the fan to my left, was so impressed on learning that I had travelled from Uganda – the country of Idi Amin as he knows it – to come and watch Barcelona in the Champions League final. He promptly offered me his scarf as a souvenir. He was in pleasant disbelief that I had travelled so far to experience ‘Catalunya in England.’

Five minutes into the game, I developed a slight headache. Barca fans were hitting the highest decibel levels before they controlled the match proper after 10 minutes. By the time playmaker Xavi started running the game, I had already started chanting the ‘Lo lo lo lo lo lo, lo lo lo lo lo lo, lo lo lo, Barca, Barca Baaaaarca.’

My other favourite was ‘Por qué Por qué Por qué Por qué Por qué Por qué Por qué Por qué…..’ The Barca end of the Wembley crowd was taking the mick out of Mourinho, who kept asking “Why?’ when complaining about the refereeing during the post-match media conference for the first-leg of their Champions League semi-final defeat. ‘Por que’ in Spanish means why.
The roaring chants for superstars Messi, Xavi and Iniesta continued to rain down Wembley with a tremendous combination of Catalan words, most of which I have already forgotten.

Barcelona’s sheer class in their execution of Manchester United was conclusive. For Muhwezi, Banturaki and Rugambwa, the day will live with them forever.

Lo lo lo lo lo lo, lo lo lo lo lo lo, lo lo lo, Barca, Barca Baaaaarca just won’t leave my memory soon.
And ‘por que’?

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