Sport and fiction don’t always mix well. The attraction of sport is that the drama is real, truly unscripted and unpredictable; consequently, attempts to portray this, be it on screen or on the page, invariably fall short of the real thing. Sensational fictional sporting events may be laughed off as impossible or cringeworthy, yet in sport the unexpected does happen and is enjoyed because it is reality. Therefore, perhaps the most successful efforts at fictionalising sport come when the focus is not on what happens on the field of play but instead on what happens around it, examining issues connected with the game and how they affect the people involved and their relationships.
One such example is El hijo del hincha by J.M. Isasi. This novel tells the tale of footballing prodigy Jon Larralde and his relationship with his family, particularly, as the title suggests, with his father. The footballing exploits of Jon are not overdramatised and they are not used to generate suspense, nor are they the principal focus of the story; rather, his career serves as a framing device for the novel and different stages in his progression are used to divide the book into three parts. We know Jon will become a successful footballer but the real story is what happens away from the pitch.
In this novel we see a generational clash as old school values come into conflict with other priorities that are ever gaining hegemony in the modern world. The work examines issues that are pertinent not only in modern football but also wider society. Martín, Jon’s father, values loyalty, tradition and team spirit, while his son is driven more by personal ambitions, is seduced more by success and money.
We are shown how having a promising young footballer for a son affects life for all the family, including the impact on his sister. Relationships and family structures are strained and tested as Jon moves through the world of football, which, now more than ever, is a business – a huge, global, multi-billion one at that. Also in evidence are the pressures on a young man in the spotlight that fame and fortune bring.
In a scene that exemplifies the conflict between father and son, Jon and Martín clash over eighteen-year-old Jon’s plans to buy himself a fancy new car. The very notion of such extravagance is anathema to the father, symbolic of all wrong in the world and entirely inappropriate, while his son accuses him of jealousy and argues that if his life isn’t normal and no one treats him as normal then why should he behave normally.
In a story where loyalty and personal ambition collide it is appropriate that Jon and Martín are supporters of Athletic Club Bilbao, a club that relies on loyalty and its own academy to compete in the Spanish top flight. The club has an often misunderstood and misrepresented signing policy which is actually quite simple and is explained on its official website.
Essentially, the club may only sign players born or trained (i.e. in a footballing academy) in the Basque Country, defined therein as including the following provinces: Bizkaia, Gipuzkoa, Araba, Nafarroa (all Spain), Lapurdi, Zuberoa and Nafarroa Behera (all France). It is not a “Basque only” policy or a “no foreigners” rule, instead it is one which places emphasis on local youth development, loyalty and sustainability in a football world increasingly losing its soul and identity in a sea of money in which young players are often overlooked in favour of expensive superstars. Despite its self-imposed limitations, Athletic, along with Real Madrid and Barcelona, is one of three clubs never to have been relegated from Spain’s top division.
The home of Athletic is the recently rebuilt San Mamés stadium in Bilbao, a true cathedral of football that any fan should aspire to visit, as I have on a number of occasions.
San Mamés, Bilbao Capacity: 53, 289
Matchday in Bilbao is an experience to savour. Streets lined with bars and bustling with fans enjoying pre-game pintxos and drinks lead up towards the stadium which looms as an imposing and beckoning presence. Nearer to the ground vendors offer souvenirs, snacks and sandwiches. The authentic football experience in Spain involves bringing your own food for half time, ideally a bocadillo de tortilla (potato omelette in crusty bread) wrapped in foil, and snacking on pipas (sunflower seeds) throughout. My first time inside this stadium came when it was still in the process of being rebuilt, during the 2013/14 season, and even with a stand missing the atmosphere was impressive. Further visits the following season confirmed the impression of a magnificent arena and a great place to watch football.
Unfortunately for Athletic I appear to be something of a jinx as I have never witnessed the team win when watching in person. Further to my trips to Bilbao I have also seen Athletic play in Lisbon when they faced Sporting CP in 2012 and they lost that match too. Perhaps Athletic fans would thank me if I avoid their games in future, home or away.
It was also at San Mamés that I had one of the most memorable and peculiar experiences of my time working abroad. At half time in a game against Elche, my American flatmate and I were approached by a reporter from EITB, the Basque public broadcaster, who asked us a question in Basque. Upon seeing my blank face she proceeded to ask if we understood Spanish and then some questions about Athletic’s chances in the cup. Rather nervous, having been put on the spot, I rattled off an answer that I can barely remember and gave the matter little more thought.
When I arrived at work a couple of days later, a colleague in the staff room remarked ‘Andy, you’re famous!’, to which I responded with confusion. It turned out that our interview had appeared on the news and, as I was to find out, apparently most of my colleagues and students at the school had seen me on TV speaking Spanish. The students who had been told I didn’t speak Spanish so as to encourage them to use English with me. Cover blown. For weeks I had students approaching me telling me they had seen me on TV, so my few seconds of fame were extended somewhat.
Football without the fans is nothing – Jock Stein
El hijo del hincha, although heavily critical of certain aspects of modern football, is clearly written by a true football fan. Anyone who quotes the immortal Jock Stein in their novel has to be, right? Enthusiasts of the sport will appreciate that Isasi knows it well; however, there is much more to this novel than football. It is a novel about growing up, family, relationships, love, pain, values and more. Perhaps above all it is a novel about a father and a son and whether their differences can be reconciled.
If you’re thinking about a trip to Bilbao, which I would heartily recommend, this book could be the perfect accompaniment. And don’t forget to visit San Mamés.
*El hijo del hincha was first published in 2014 and the digital edition was published in 2015 by Cuatro Tres Tres, with the paperback issued by Txertoa. Unfortunately for non-Spanish speakers the book has not (yet) been translated.