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Rayo Majadahonda: Taking the Stage

21/10/2018

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Rayo Majadahonda – a revelation of the metropolitan age. Their chronology can be confined to years of recent recognition, and played out in the confines of global entities; formed at a stage in the mid-1970s when the national team had not qualified for an international tournament for a decade. Located a few kilometres northwest of the Madrilenian hubbub, and playing host to Atlético Madrid’s training complex since the national redemption of a World Cup quarter-final in 1994, when only a single Atléti player made the squad. The Rojiblancos won their first La Liga title for two decades, and to date their only double with the Copa del Rey, in their first season outside the city borders; no reason to be dislodged, and reason enough to legitimise the relationship in 1997. Nurturing the talents of Munir, Rodri and Lucas Hernández at ‘La Oliva’, the leading feature of the Escuela – School – de Fútbol that flanks senior pitches, the relationship has worked well for Majadahonda also. Following promotions from the fourth tier to the second in just four seasons – the last, with a 96th minute play-off goal to defeat Cartagena on away goals – they began this, their first ever Segunda División season, exceeding the 3,376-seater capacity of the well-funded Atlético base camp ‘Miniestadio’ Cerro del Espino by filling a few rows in temporary accommodation at the 67,000-seater Wanda Metropolitano. Enzo Fernández – formerly Zidane, but now using his mother’s maiden name – is on loan to the club this season, and provides for Nicolás Schiappacasse (Atlético) and Toni Martínez (West Ham), fellow temps. In fact, a squad of 25 is ruled by the vitality of academy production lines – ten, in all, available to one-time Real Madrid Castilla prospect Antonio Iriondo Ortega, who helmed Rayo Vallecano youth after the millennium.

Are Rayo an artificial product, and justification for the English cultural negation of B teams? It is far from the Majariegos’ fault that Atléti swept into town, the remedy to a banner of Don Quixote’s medieval meanderings on La Mancha’s barren plains. Lancing FC existed long before the Sussex County FA stepped in, and even longer before Brighton and Hove Albion transferred their training facilities to the town, but few complain about their studied progress.

With no major populace – spilling slightly over 70,000 – nor historical distinction but common savagery, disease and political vulnerability, Majadahonda is to Madrid what Watford is to London. As the latter had no footballing presence prior to the propriety of Sir Elton John, neither did the former, in any great sense, before the death of Francisco Franco. An amateur side, Rayo Majariego, existed from 1958, but such activities were of no interest to dictators in Franco’s class. The very summer after November 1975, El Cuadillo’s throttlehold on the sport had deceased sufficiently to allow the formation of a first official Majadahondian outfit. Reforms in Catalan and Basque capitals, Barcelona and Bilbao, were perhaps more indicative of the cultural autonomy feeding back into raped states after Franco’s conspicuous endorsement of Real Madrid Club de Fútbol, royalist from name to badge; gilded, crowned, capitalist. Real won four La Liga titles in the 1950s, eight in the 1960s, and another three before the subsequent death of chairman Santiago Bernabéu, who served as the intervening force in the propaganda war for Alfredo di Stéfano – persuaded out of a binding deal with the Catalans, and after four glittering seasons for Los Blancos, rescinding Argentinian and Colombian citizenship to compete internationally for the Iberian dictatorship. Communist defector Ferenc Puskás and Uruguayan centre-back José Santamaría – who would have met in a titanic 1954 World Cup Semi-Final but for the Hungarian’s injury – each earned Spanish caps during lucrative Real stints. All three cases deserved exemptions from Franco’s otherwise unflinching ban on foreign imports. Five consecutive European Cup titles, and a sixth in 1966, honoured Bernabéu’s exploitation of L’Équipe editor Gabriel Hanot’s post-war vision of a pan-European celebration. This was an era of Eurovisions, of NATOs, of European Unions; of course, the rhetoric that Real subjugated found hospitality. Exactly the execution did not occur to many.

Besides, the legacy of that age of orthodoxy still stands; Atlético, subordinated by the royalists and vulnerable to the financial perils that only Real escaped in the late 1990s, were thankful to venture out of the urban spotlight with their move. Real, by comparison, have had little to no association with their near neighbours, whether Getafe, Leganés, Vallecano, Alcorcón, or Majadahonda; their Castilla side played six times in the past three years against Rayo, in the Segunda División 2aB. If venturing west from their properties in the exclusive La Finca neighbourhood – a splash of green in the Madrilenian drought – Real luminaries may glance half-curiously at a ground more notable as their rivals’ fortification. The association is distant, at best.

The times, they are a changin’. Any success now propels victors into the stratosphere, ripe for investment, and aligned with the right-wing elite that rule Madrid like no other divergent Spanish city. Long since a 2007 agreement to depart the Vicente Calderón in favour of the disused Estadio La Pinieta, the 2017-18 season began in an enlarged household for the Atléti faithful; a 15km displacement, for the sake of 13,000 extra seats, and the only fully LED lighting system in the world. After only a few years of multinational Atléti ownership – Israeli oil magnate Idan Ofer joining Wanda’s Wang Jianlin as a minority shareholder last season – plans for a modernised training complex may also come to fruition. In 2015, Alcorcón was first mooted as a host for the ‘Nuevo Ciudad Deportiva’, and the scope has since been further investigated. If progress is to be consolidated, no doubt, such are the sentimental sacrifices.

A winning mentality is infectious – such is the understanding of the recruitment of hundreds of sports psychologists in professional set-ups the world over. Playing host to an institution whose humble vision gathered backing from Asiatic conglomerates, Majadahonda’s horizons inevitably expanded. More importantly, however, revisionist culture has spawned within Spanish football. The nation’s crest came, of course, in the years 2008-12, with the World Cup, two European Championships, two Champions Leagues, and two Europa Leagues. Those with starring roles now roll off the tongue; Gerard Piqué, Carles Puyol, Sergio Ramos, Sergio Busquets, Xavi, Andrés Iniesta, Iker Casillas, Xabi Alonso, David Villa, Pedro. Real and Barca now find themselves unearthing new possibilities, unrecognisable identities. The duopoly of power, often projected as a dichotomy of identity, has fractured. Detached from the Galácticos frame after Cristiano’s dirtied digression, and removed of the La Masia membrane that forged a brand of great magnitude, La Liga, the Spanish national team, and the two warring factions of the Iberian Peninsula, are all in the process of reform. Atléti’s long-term project was the first to profit, with their affiliates privy to the pot. Sevilla, the resurgent Real Betis, Valencia and Villareal, and this season Levante, Espanyol and, unbelievably, Alavés, all reap rewards – they too can compete domestically.

Finance is quickly usurping tradition in this cathedral of football, hallowed for the exclusivity of its clerics. Robbed of characters Neymar and Ronaldo, they are only too happy to welcome the likes of City Group enterprise Girona, in place of the fluctuating Málaga. Concepts of annual transcontinental matches, the only unsuccessful policy of Premier League chieftain Richard Scudamore, are fully in motion, despite seemingly every stakeholders’ opposition. A one-game gimmick does not alter the fact that the league is enfeebled and emasculated by its English cousin. The Americans have far more to consume that I imagine they consider. Piqué’s ambitions, meanwhile, run parallel to his financiers in imploding tennis’ most rambunctious competition, the Davis Cup. If Majadahonda enter the fray as a diversion technique, they would be much appreciated by those on high.

For now, the Madrilenian suburb is content to consolidate. Isaac ‘Iza’ Carcelén was their only summer transfer worthy of expenditure, replacing the Castilla-purchased Jorge de Frutos. They made a profit, sufficient to fund – at least temporarily – the bump in wages required at this level. Every home match to date has been played at the Wanda Metropolitano – not the perk of Atlético ties, necessarily, but instead the result of three-month renovation works required to bring the miniature training pitch up to Liga 1|2|3 standards. Small stand sections in the crucible of sporting excellence – lodged, long ago, as Madrid’s candidate host stadium for the 2016 Olympics – have been filled; sufficient to exceed previous attendances by a thousand or two. Finances are certainly subordinate to newfound rivals, but loyal support provides an invaluable backbone.

To suggest, simply by their minority, that Rayo have taken on the mantle of fallen ‘B’ teams – Barcelona and Sevilla relegated last term – is, however, unjustified. Ten loanees, living cheek by jowl with the Rojiblancos, a coach whose chief achievements consist of promotion to the senior Vallecano role after a successful second-team stint; none are representative of a restricted outfit, as all B teams were. Majadahonda is not a town of plenty, nor of culture – footnoted reference in Miguel de Cervantes' whimsy aside. But it is not unheard of to witness the realisation of big dreams of inscrutable origin in the Mediterranean; indeed, it is actively encouraged.

Eibar are just one such entity that have lifted onto the highest stage with ease. The Basque valleys have seldom seen such upstarts, yet the love-in has since been glorious. All Burnley get are credits to obduracy; Watford an apparent miraculous ability to maintain ambition and stability with a high turnover of managerial staff; Cardiff only thinly-veiled pity. Burton Albion were the butt of jokes after rising all the way to the Championship; Yeovil’s tenure flickered with jibes of ‘country bumpkins’. Accrington Stanley – ‘who are they?’ – somehow still evoke fascination from the British press. Our collective preoccupation with size must relent, for any Majadahonda-esque magic to ascend.

In the present, Rayo’s travels take them to Málaga, A Coruña, Elche, Zaragoza, Granada, Mallorca, and twice to the Canary Islands – unknown territories for a side that has never played far outside of the Madrid or Basque regions before. Heavy defeats in Andalusia, against Granada, and while welcoming Extremadura, damaged their pride, but these were underlined by injury to first-choice goalkeeper and captain Basilio, and narrow home victories over the squabbling Asturians, Gijón and Oviedo, have redeemed them. Breathing room was offered by a smash-and-grab early win at Gimnàstic, and at home against Lugo, but after experimentations with 4-3-3 and 4-4-2, they have announced their authority on the stage with three at the back, and neither of Schiappacasse or Martínez starting. Instead, the Peruvian Jeisson Martínez and Aitor García, a winger by trade who sits second in individual shot statistics for the entire division, fulfil Iriondo’s offensive needs. The Moscow-born manager – birthplace, months after Joseph Stalin’s death, as much a product of Franco’s brutality as the short existence of his current employers is – is not one to settle, however, and further experimentation is assured to counter the strengths of upcoming opponents. Occasionally the unfamiliarity leaves ‘El Ruso’ and his side empty-handed and over-exposed, others with excellent reward. The policy is not for all, but for a reactionary youth of a suburb, the glove fits.

The same enthusiasm that was invested in the foundation of the club, and of its facilities for semi-professionals and local families, is protected as Majadahonda announce themselves to a new audience. The spectre looming over external coverage of the club’s performances is future uncertainty, suggesting they have been handed this opportunity arbitrarily. If Atléti opt to move neighbourhoods, and link arms with the side currently second in the Segunda División, Alcorcón, then the work of the Majadahonda City Council, of President of over 30 years Enrique Vedia, of Iriondo, and of similar coaches, board members, volunteers and fans, will not be spurned. Rayo, lightning bolts emblazoning badges and kits, will not succumb to gimmicks and bow to corporate demands. Their philosophy harnesses local passion; an undying asset, and far from immaterial. They have seen every face of domestic football, from eighth tier to second. They are, without doubt, a special club.
​
The insatiable aspect, I think, about Rayo is a nature that is shared by only a few. Be it inevitable of their origins, or an inflection of the environment elsewhere, but it was not fundamentally conscious of their founders. You see, Majadahonda’s biographers will not be dictated to by any one season. Those who write and embellish our histories are seldom professionals. They are, in fact, those who lead the pre-match chants. Those to whom I will leave the parting words – the modest, the honourable, the joyful.

A la bimbam bimbam bimbam,
a la bimbam bimbam ¡ gol !
Es el Rayo Majadahonda un equipo campeón.
 
Rayo Majadahonda juegas al fútbol con ilusión.
Rayo Majadahonda eres amigo, eres señor.
Rayo Majadahonda es tu divisa la lealtad.
Rayo Majadahonda es un equipo sensacional.
Rayo Majadahonda es un equipo siempre genial.
 
A la bimbam bimbam bimbam,
a la bimbam bimbam ¡ gol !
Es el Rayo Majadahonda un equipo campeón.
Adelante siempre el Rayo, adelante a triunfar,
la afición está contigo y te apoya sin cesar.
 
Rayo Majadahonda juegas al fútbol con ilusión.
Rayo Majadahonda eres amigo, eres señor.
Rayo Majadahonda es tu divisa la lealtad.
Rayo Majadahonda es un equipo sensacional.
Rayo Majadahonda es un equipo siempre genial.
 
A la bimbam bimbam bimbam.
a la bimbam bimbam ¡ gol !
Es el Rayo Majadahonda un equipo campeón.
Adelante siempre el Rayo, adelante a triunfar,
la afición está contigo y te apoya sin cesar.
 
¡ Rayo, Rayo, Rayo !
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    Author -  Will Hugall

    Living in the shadow of the South Downs outside Brighton, I am an ambitious young writer with aspirations of becoming a national sports journalist.

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