Joaquín – El Rey De Andalusia

A social media explosion on a par with that of Musk’s latest malfunctioning rocket lit up my news feed earlier this week. From its epicentre in Seville its shockwaves spread quickly, and soon reached the eyes and ears of football enthusiasts around the globe. Its reception though tinged with sadness, was certainly no great surprise. A veteran of the beautiful game was to hang up his boots at the ripe old age of 41. A man blessed with the seamless ability to entertain and inspire in equal measure and worshipped not only by his own adoring Beticos but by fans the world over.

From Bilbao to Barcelona, this natural born showman possessive of a matador like spirit captivated audiences throughout Iberia and beyond. Bedecked in an oversized green and white kit his skill bedazzled and smile bewitched a father and son, in a drizzly corner of East Lancashire far from Seville’s sun baked streets. Effortlessly embodying the ethos of one of Spain’s greatest clubs, his cavalier style and flamenco soul mirrored the passion and fanaticism emanating from the terraces of Real Betis’ Benito Villamarín. This intoxicating mix had us hooked.

Our hero sadly moved on to pastures new and though our love affair with Betis continued throughout the lean years in Spain’s second tier, a piece of the jigsaw seemed to be missing.

We caught a glimpse of his brilliance for Valencia live at the iconic Mestalla where he eclipsed household names such as Villa, Mata and Silva, and also pined for his return as he lit up Malaga’s La Rosaleda in their brief flirtation with European greatness.

When the inevitable second coming did transpire many thought it likely to be little more than a nostalgic sendoff for their former champion. Eight years on and in his forty second year, he’s entranced a whole new generation of fans and added a third Copa Del Rey to his cabinet, his second with his beloved Betis. I’ve very few heroes in the game I’m lucky enough to call my profession but he is definitely one, and due to the kindness of a friend I was lucky enough to catch a final flash of his genius last year at Parkhead. His ageing legs bursting into mesmeric life with the ball at his feet. My aforementioned friend, who plays the game with similar admirable pizazz, went above and beyond in securing the icons match worn shirt, which now sits proudly on the wall at my parents house.

Joaquín Supporters Club, East Lancs Division

Among the host of content released by Betis on the day of the announcement, one piece stood out in particular. It featured the visibly emotional man of the hour, recounting the day he broke the news to his father that he would be signing for Betis, ‘Dad we did it, I now play for the best team in the world, Real Betis Balompie’. Delivered with trademark raw emotion it reminded me of why I love the game. It stirs within us thoughts of family, memories of historic games and feelings of pride in our towns and cities. So here’s to the man who played the game how I’d love to play it, with skill, hard work and a smile on his face. Here’s to Granada’s Alhambra, Cordoba’s Mezquita and Seville’s Oranges, but most of all, here’s to El Rey De Andalusia.. Joaquín.