And suddenly Montjuïc became a sacred space in which more than 40,000 people attended one of those moments that become more beautiful with the passage of time, that serve as a nerve center, a date marker from here until one dies.. “I was there when Gavi returned,” those lucky enough to enjoy the Andalusian’s return will say. I return to say something, because if there is anything this Barça is above all, it is a living tribute to those who have returned today, a way of telling him that Gavi is expected to keep up with him, lest when he returns it will be the rest who don’t. I can follow your steps. His entry onto the field, with Pedri giving him the armband, explains that If God exists, at least today, he has proven to be cool.
Today was not a game, but a wait. It didn’t matter what movie was playing in the cinema but rather the credits, a space in which we all expected to see, in capital letters and fluorescent, the four letters that the culer has tattooed inside himself so as not to forget who the protagonist was: Gavi. Everything was a preamble, an excuse for the event of the night, of the year, what do I say, of the decade and the century. Today Gavi is measured like this, because his presence is as big as the void he left a year ago, one that was unreachable there as far as we looked. To a certain extent, his absence was necessary to physically prove why a 19-year-old boy was already the pillar of the house that aspired to the palace. Being left without Gavi was losing the roof and the car at the same time. Now one can return home.
At Gavi everything is transparency. He is the typical person who, if asked to lie, would look at you with a frown, surprised that someone would not even raise that option. He doesn’t know how to do it. His thing is to hit you with truths, and this is how the public makes it known, which He celebrated his warm-up as if Leo Messi came out in 2013, because in Gavi we see a premature captain, a boy who in his first grand prix asked naturally if he could shout “Visca el Barça” at the end of the speech. Watching Gavi play is actually watching a projected version of us, with infinite talent, on the field. We love him because he understands this sport the way we have been taught it is worth it.
And in one birth, which was Gavi’s, Barça has subscribed to the autopsies. Only in this way, in an eschatological way, can we understand his taste for opening the rivals in half before vermouth time, a custom that he has repeated for three consecutive games for the first time in its history: They had never led 3-0 at half-time until Flick, with half the team injured, achieved it. The German does not know histrionics and takes refuge in tactical cannibalism, aggressively squeezing every centimeter of the field, as if his life depended on it. Surely this is the team that Gavi, during his injury, imagined. And Hansi Flick, who is generous, has given the youth player the dream version, as proof of the faith he has in the Andalusian.
In a great soccer match, what mattered the least was the soccer, which at the same time was what united us all to wait for the Event. It was so difficult to imagine Gavi injured, dejected in a thick silence, that seeing him back with the same intensity, biting on the first play, protecting his teammate on the second and forcing one on the third, seemed strange to us, as if time would have been compressed. Gavi, deep down, has the power to connect time as he pleases. And that is only within the reach of special footballers.
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