Malaga 3 Burgos 0
The matter of football and culture can draw expressions charitably described as sceptical in the salons of Springburn or the cerebral gatherings of Garngad.
Yet it is impossible to separate football from culture in Andalucia. The Caledonian elite once seemed to look down on fitba’. The Scottish proletariat needed to be convinced that the game they loved could be described as the working man or women’s ballet.
Their Spanish counterparts embrace this assertion. El futbol como arte – football as art – was a campaign launched to celebrate a women’s international in Malaga last year.
Just up the road in Seville, the football club was formed on Burns Night in 1890. One of the leading figures was Edward Farquharson Johnston and the club was inaugurated after a supper celebrating the national bard. Haggis and whisky led to sporting chat. Culture led to football.
In Malaga, the birthplace of Pablo Picasso whose surrealism undoubtedly influences events in the SPFL today, football came on the tide of British sailors, many of them Scots. Fans proclaim their club’s birthdate as 1904. But it is more complicated than that. Everything is when it comes to Malaga Club de Futbol.
Chupe (front) and David Larrubia celebrate Malaga’s second goal against Burgos
Malaga players celebrate in the dressing room after keeping their promotion bid on track
Malaga’s mascot Super Boke (anchovy) warms up the crowd at La Rosaleda stadium
Suffice to say that the present iteration was formally ushered in after the Second War but that football has been played in the city for more than 100 years.
The 21st century, though, has seen Malaga’s fortunes fluctuate with all the stability of a drunken sailor on shore leave.
‘It has been a rollercoaster’ says Juan, whose impeccable English includes a familiarity with sporting cliché. ‘It’s been up, it’s been down,’ he adds, evenly.
This is an understatement of the heroic variety. We are standing outside La Rosaleda, home of Malaga FC, five hours before kick-off on Friday. Juan – and his mates Diego and Martin – have disembarked from their car and are heading for pre-match preparations in a restaurant on the edge of the old town.
‘We like to take our time, have some nice food, enjoy some conversation before the game,’ he adds. ‘It’s a cultural aspect.’
The matter of culture extends to his perspective on the club he loves. He remembers vividly the Champions League run of 2012-13 that ended unfairly when Borussia Dortmund eliminated the Boquerones (anchovies) with a clearly offside goal. But he also recalls the climax to the 2023-24 season when Malaga scored twice in extra time in the third division play-offs, gaining promotion to La Liga 2, where they are now pushing for a place in the top flight.
‘Much of this doesn’t matter,’ says Juan of games past. ‘You do not support a team because of where it stands in terms of leagues or cups. You support it because it is part of who you are. I am a Malageuno so this is my team. It is a matter of culture.’
His friends are in agreement. They seem oddly philosophical about the events of the past decade.
The club was bought over by Qatari interests in 2010 and players such as Santi Cazorla, Ruud van Nistelrooy and Martin Demichelis joined local talents such as Isco under the managership of Manuel Pellegrini.
This investment has dried up amid a legal saga that means a judicial administration was brought in with Jose Maria Munoz Jiminez, a judge, leading the club as president.
Larrubia celebrates after opening the scoring in Malaga’s 3-0 home win over Burgos
‘It is difficult to understand so not easy to explain,’ says Juan. The crudest explanation is that although the majority of shares are owned by a Qatari sheikh, the club is now under Spanish legal jurisdiction.
‘There have been reports that there are moves being made to clear up the dispute, most particularly from Qatari interests.
‘We only know what we read or hear from other fans,’ says Juan. ‘But we could do nothing about what happened and we are powerless in the legal battle. But we are blue and white and always will be.
‘We were there in the Champions League. We were there in the third division. We are here today.’
With that, the three amigos state their firm intention to visit a nearby bar. Your correspondent politely makes his excuses. The Museo Carmen Thyssen has a visiting exhibition of Rembrandt etchings and what Possil boy could possibly resist such a temptation?
Malaga’s impressive La Rosaleda Stadium could host matches at the 2030 World Cup
There is history and culture on the morning after the night before. The Rosaleda had been drenched on a dreich Friday night but the football was bright and warming, at least for Malaga supporters.
A comprehensive win over the promotion rivals of Burgos sees the home side sit outside the automatic promotion places only on goal difference.
The mood on the official tour of the stadium and museum matches the bright and sunny Saturday weather. The scope of the tour is extensive and offers substance to the words of Juan and his friends less than 24 hours before.
‘I have been on this tour before,’ says Michael, outside the stadium. ‘I have brought my son.
‘He will be delighted to see the pitch and dressing rooms but I prefer the history. The past is what makes a club. It can be judged good or bad but it is part of our lives no matter what emotions it brings.’
In the stark daylight, La Rosaleda reveals fully her charms. On the night before, it was a claustrophobic, throbbing lump of concrete. It sits staidly in the sunlight, quietly proclaiming its status as a contender for a host stadium for the 2030 World Cup.
‘It is all politics,’ says Michael of the possibility of his city entertaining the world of football.
Malaga’s Dani Lorenzo fights for possession during Friday’s match at La Rosaleda
‘For me, it is enough to know that we as a club seem secure now.’ He pays about 300 euros for his season ticket and is rightly positive about its value.
The signs on the pitch are encouraging too. The talents of David Larrubia and Dani Lorenzo are glaringly obvious from my, mercifully, covered 40-euro seat behind the goals.
But the local hero is Carlos Ruiz Rubio, commonly known as Chupete. He is a 21-year-old Andalucian who invigorates the crowd with his physical menace in front of goal. His expertly headed goal is greeted with a roar that is obviously celebratory but has a resonance of genuine affection.
If the delicate Larrubia is the matador, then Chupete is a ruthless bludgeoner of defences. He has scored 10 goals this season and he was substituted to a standing ovation.
‘He will take us to La Liga this season,’ says a fan at my side. ‘He is what we call an English centre forward. Strong and tough.’
It was a reminder that, even in sophisticated Spain, football has room for the uncultured.
