Torres: An Intimate Portrait of the Kid Who Became King

then the referee blows for a penalty that leaves the visitors fuming. To them, nothing happened. Robbery, plain and simple. At first, Torres does not react, but then applauds the decision. Gerrard steps up. As usual, El Niño doesn’t want to watch his team taking a penalty. This time he doesn’t know what to do. He buries his face in his hands and hardly dares look. A goal. He waves his fists and celebrates his captain’s goal, a gesture that earns the reproach of one of the visitors from Madrid. El Niño can’t understand why. For him it’s logical to celebrate. No treachery, no mistake. It’s a view shared by the members of the
Peña Atlética Fernando Torres
fan club from Fuenlabrada. That Tuesday in November they’re at Anfield, together with 2,600 other
rojiblancos
. They’re surprised by the affection in which their hero is held by Liverpool fans. They swap scarves, flags, handshakes, addresses and pictures of El Niño (2009 calendars printed by the
Peña
with a photo of Fernando as a youngster or celebrating Spain’s Euro 2008 victory). They’ve even managed to hang their scarves around the mannequin sporting Torres’ shirt in the Liverpool Club Store, in Williamson Square in the heart of the city.
    The night when Spain play in Seville against Fabio Capello’s England, they turn up at Tommy’s Café in Calle Ferrocarril street in Fuenlabrada. It’s just down the road from the station underpass where Moroccan immigrants are drinking mint tea, eating kebabs and anxiously watching their national side playing a friendly in Casablanca against the Czech Republic. Spain’s game, however, has not yet kicked off.
    It’s nine o’clock and there’s time, over a beer and a plate of well-cut cured loin of pork, for Pasqual Blázquez, José Antonio Camacho and Tony Roldán to swap stories. They are three of the members of the
Peña
, which has some 150 members and continues to keep its full name, even though El Niño has long since left Atlético. They’ve known Fernando since he was a child and followed his progress from the juniors to the first team. On the wall, a newspaper cutting recalls Fernando’s first call-up to the national side under Iñaki Sáez. A signed Liverpool shirt is a symbol of the present. There are photos of the blond, freckled lad with the president, the secretary and the treasurer, which show a mutual respect. Fernando, a traitor? Not at all. ‘There are no recriminations against him. He’s gone because the club didn’t respond with the signing he wanted. They didn’t know how to build a competitive team that could fight in Europe. Fernando has done an awful lot for Atlético. There’s nothing to reproach him for,’ says Roldán. ‘He’s been our flag-bearer – one of the greatest in our footballing history. He’s at the same level as Gárate, the most effective Number 9 we’ve ever had ( José Eulogio Gárate, an Argentinian from Sarandi who played eleven seasons with Atlético, scoring a total of 123 goals) and at the same level of Adelardo (Adelardo Rodríguez Sánchez, seventeen seasons between 1959 and 1976, and 112 goals) or even Aragonés himself,’ explains Camacho.
    ‘Real Madrid had Raúl and we had El Niño,’ adds Pascual. ‘His departure was necessary, above all because he needed to measure himself against the great European players and so, signing for Liverpool has been good for him. But his transfer has also been beneficial for the club, which has been able to sign Simao, Luis García and Diego Forlán and one has to say that the Uruguayan is doing very well. We will see if they also sell him.’
    Roldán interrupts the thoughts of Camacho: ‘Have you seen the last interview with El Niño, saying that he will never go to Real Madrid. He’s a player who feels the club colours, which is a difficult thing in this era of millions.’
    The three of them chat about values, about feelings for Atlético. They tell their guest that, to be a
rojiblanco
is almost like a religious calling. ‘You believe and you go on believing, even if miracles don’t happen. It’s important not to lose faith.’ They recall that Chamartín (the Bernabéu, the stadium of their main rivals) is like an opera, with everyone seemingly reluctant to get involved in the game. The Calderón, on the other hand, is where to find passion for real football. ‘Indeed, it is almost the same atmosphere as it is in Anfield. The fans are similar and absolutely in love with Fernando. We