The ways of the Lord will be inscrutable, but those of football are not bad either. That is why creating fictional stories about football is such a complicated task: it is a sport that generates real situations so implausible that, even transferred to a fable, they would be difficult to believe. The 1993-1994 season of Deportivo de la Coruña is one of the best examples. The team had returned to the top flight three years earlier. In the season of his return, he was saved from relegation in the extinct promotion playoff, in which the candidate for promotion faced the team that was trying to avoid relegation. Then, two Brazilian players arrived who had signed agreements with two major European clubs and changed their minds to settle in Galicia. In its first season, the team placed third, four points behind the champion (then victory was worth two points). In 93-94, football would give another twist to its unpredictable newspaper archive. In the last minute of the last match, Deportivo would have a penalty. If he scored, he would be League champion for the first time in his history. . González, Valencia’s goalkeeper, stopped him. Someone behind the goal kicked a billboard in frustration. The fence fell down. That kick was given by the Deportivista fans, but also by all the fans outside the club who had vibrated and dreamed about the Galician team’s season. Football had created. and the concept of SuperDepor would be forever linked to the Djukic penalty.
(Altamarea) —which takes as its title the iconic phrase of coach Arsenio Iglesias in the post-match press conference— is an exercise in great chronicle by . A story full of context and details in which more than 200 people who lived that moment have participated. A book to understand how destiny weaves its inexorable web, leading to an outcome that no scriptwriter could have imagined and which, however, really happened.
