MADRID—The Spanish are known throughout the world for their famous siestas, as well as for their fiestas.
There are few people in the world who unite joy and drama like the Spaniards do at the bull-running festival of San Fermin—and when the national soccer team wins.
Although I am Spanish, I do not like bull-running and I don’t follow soccer. However, I am Spanish and still celebrate San Fermin—and shout at referees during any televised match played by the Spanish soccer team.
The buzz surrounding the festival of San Fermin in Pamplona is very similar to the buzz in Spain when the team wins. Thousands of people take to the streets and share their joy with generosity and kindness, and a sense of brotherhood as though they knew each other all their whole lives. This bond is really unusual and something worth experiencing at least once in a lifetime.
I still vividly remember a moving scene from some years back: The day the Spanish Club Real Madrid won the league, the streets of Madrid were inundated with people waving team flags, wearing team shirts, and singing and shouting. As I waited for a bus, a jubilant young man stopped in the middle of the road and began singing in front of a car bearing a Real Madrid flag.
As I watched, a man got out of the car and immediately embraced the boy, and the two began jumping, arms locked, screaming with joy. It was as if two brothers, separated for years, were reunited by chance. After a minute of singing, the man returned to his car, and the boy went on his way, still jumping and singing. My eyes filled with tears because I had never seen such spontaneous brotherhood between two strangers. I thought, “How can something so trivial as soccer achieve this?”
Yesterday, thousands of people asked Saint Fermin to help the Spanish soccer team defeat almighty Germany, and when Carles Puyol scored the winning header, the “fiesta” became a “re-fiesta.” In Pamplona, thousands of people from around the world celebrated San Fermin and Spain’s victory, while all across Spain, millions of people spilled into the streets to share their joy, which seemed to overflow like fountains in major cities.
In moments like this, all our differences dissipate, we can forgive everything, all acrimony disappears from our minds, and words are not enough to express the joy we feel. All we can do is hug and cry.
This emotion is what Spain has been experiencing in recent days. Though we try to control it, the euphoria escapes through the corners of Spanish mouths in huge smiles. The fans already see the national team as champions, and say that Sunday’s game against the Netherlands will play out like a herd of bulls flattening a garden of tulips. After the game against Germany, Spanish confidence in their team is such that no rival can unsettle the fans, who, prouder than ever, sing, “Yo soy español, español, español” (I am a Spaniard, Spaniard, Spaniard).
If “The Red” wins, we will have two days of unforgettable celebration; one on Sunday, and the other when the players return to Spain as heroes. If you are in Spain on either of these days, I recommend that you share the experience, because even the Dutch will forget their grief and join the fiesta.
There are few people in the world who unite joy and drama like the Spaniards do at the bull-running festival of San Fermin—and when the national soccer team wins.
Although I am Spanish, I do not like bull-running and I don’t follow soccer. However, I am Spanish and still celebrate San Fermin—and shout at referees during any televised match played by the Spanish soccer team.
The buzz surrounding the festival of San Fermin in Pamplona is very similar to the buzz in Spain when the team wins. Thousands of people take to the streets and share their joy with generosity and kindness, and a sense of brotherhood as though they knew each other all their whole lives. This bond is really unusual and something worth experiencing at least once in a lifetime.
I still vividly remember a moving scene from some years back: The day the Spanish Club Real Madrid won the league, the streets of Madrid were inundated with people waving team flags, wearing team shirts, and singing and shouting. As I waited for a bus, a jubilant young man stopped in the middle of the road and began singing in front of a car bearing a Real Madrid flag.
As I watched, a man got out of the car and immediately embraced the boy, and the two began jumping, arms locked, screaming with joy. It was as if two brothers, separated for years, were reunited by chance. After a minute of singing, the man returned to his car, and the boy went on his way, still jumping and singing. My eyes filled with tears because I had never seen such spontaneous brotherhood between two strangers. I thought, “How can something so trivial as soccer achieve this?”
Yesterday, thousands of people asked Saint Fermin to help the Spanish soccer team defeat almighty Germany, and when Carles Puyol scored the winning header, the “fiesta” became a “re-fiesta.” In Pamplona, thousands of people from around the world celebrated San Fermin and Spain’s victory, while all across Spain, millions of people spilled into the streets to share their joy, which seemed to overflow like fountains in major cities.
In moments like this, all our differences dissipate, we can forgive everything, all acrimony disappears from our minds, and words are not enough to express the joy we feel. All we can do is hug and cry.
This emotion is what Spain has been experiencing in recent days. Though we try to control it, the euphoria escapes through the corners of Spanish mouths in huge smiles. The fans already see the national team as champions, and say that Sunday’s game against the Netherlands will play out like a herd of bulls flattening a garden of tulips. After the game against Germany, Spanish confidence in their team is such that no rival can unsettle the fans, who, prouder than ever, sing, “Yo soy español, español, español” (I am a Spaniard, Spaniard, Spaniard).
If “The Red” wins, we will have two days of unforgettable celebration; one on Sunday, and the other when the players return to Spain as heroes. If you are in Spain on either of these days, I recommend that you share the experience, because even the Dutch will forget their grief and join the fiesta.
To see how the Dutch are preparing in the Netherlands for the World Cup Final click here
