Today is not just any day for Real Madrid fans. They have November 10 marked in white in honor of one of the club’s great historical legends: Juan Gأ³mez ‘Juanito’. The genius of Fuengirola turns 67 today. I said ‘complies’ and not ‘would have complied’. I say it with all the intention and I explain myself. For Juanitistas like this humble servant, the genius who was born on November 10, 1954 never left. His body left us that damned April 2, 1992 on the Extremadura highway, but his irreducible Madridista soul continues to accompany us every hour, every minute, every second. I feel him close, with that support in bad times, which is when it is most appreciated. I have seen Juanito hug Sergio Ramos in Lisbon when the camero scored the goal that took us to the Dأ©cima, or Cristiano in Turأn with that overhead kick against Juve that stopped the world for its plasticity, or Zidane when he scored the great goal of the Ninth in Glasgow and Mijatovic for breaking in Amsterdam, 32 years later, with that black streak in Europe that good Juanito suffered firsthand.
He is still here, as always, with his Madrid cap covering that head that gave him so much trouble for being so temperamental, but which at the same time was his main endorsement in his 38 years of passionate existence. Juan made some mistakes, as we all do, but they were all generated by his indomitable heart, which anticipated his brain with the consequences that we already know. He was a vitalist, a ‘chao p’alante’ guy, a fanatic of generosity, a man from Malaga proud of his native Fuengirola but in love with Madrid and his Madrid. And of his Burgos, which made him grow so much as a footballer, and of his Mأ©rida, where he began to carve out a career on the bench that would surely have taken him to Bernabأ©u himself.. Misfortune took from us the being of flesh and blood, but his overwhelming personality means that we Madrid fans continue to see him everywhere when we talk about our Real Madrid. Without a doubt, Juanito has been the Madrid player who has moved me the most. Not even during the loneliness of the empty stands due to the pandemic did we stop humming in privacy that of “Illa, illa, illa, Juanito Maravilla!” in every 7th minute of the games. Ten days ago I was with him at the bust that he has dedicated in his Fuengirola of the soul and we reviewed how good Ancelotti’s Madrid is. Today you turn 67 years old. Congratulations, Legend!
