The fans, placated by a positive scoreline, give him a warm welcome. In the minutes that remain, there is nothing special to report, but he’s made his debut. A member of the opposing team wants to exchange his shirt but he refuses. That shirt’s very important – he’s promised it to his brother, Israel, and it’ll be the only one like it being worn at the Estadio Carlos Belmonte the following Sunday, 3 June 2001.
Atlético have to win if they are going to keep alive their hopes of promotion but, against Albacete Balompié, things aren’t going well. Atléti are playing badly. An ugly game, marked by tension. Fear of losing haunts Cantarero’s men. The defence is fragile and exposed to the counter-attacking of their opponents. In attack, there are fleeting glimpses of Kiko, who has returned to the team, and of Cubillo. With seventeen minutes remaining, it’s a miracle the Madrid side isn’t losing. They create three half-chances on goal with Luque and Correa, while Albacete go close on several occasions. Cantarero plays the one card he has left at his disposal – the youngster. ‘We needed a goal. That’s why I put Fernando on,’ the manager will say later, rubbing his hands with glee for making the right move. Yes, because El Niño, cheered on by 5,000 Atlético fans who have gone down to Albacete to support the team, has just five minutes to change things round. He comes on in place of Kiko and goes immediately to take up his place in the attack. The first time he touches the ball, he is knocked flat by Arias, who earns a red card and a dismissal.
In the second move, a long cross from Iván Amaya comes into the area from left to right. Fernando pretends to go one way, then the other, gains ground on the central defenders and gets behind them. It seems the cross will end up being too long, but the youngster moves rapidly without taking his eyes off the ball falling out of the sky. He stretches out his neck, hitting the ball decisively, accurately and powerfully, directing it towards the opposite post. He fears that it’s hit the post and gone out of play. But no, it rebounds into the net. The keeper looks at his defence with disgust while Fernando runs towards the goal line and, beside himself with joy, embraces Aguilera and Hernández – men almost twice his age. It is his first goal at national club level and a happy ending of the fairy tale for him and the team, which,with those three points, can continue to dream of promotion. The referee blows his whistle to end the encounter and El Niño succeeds in getting his hands on the ball that marked his first goal. He wants to keep it as a souvenir of his fledgling career. But then he changes his mind and kicks it hard and high towards the south end, where the Atléti fans are concentrated.
Meanwhile, on the pitch, around twenty journalists are following him, microphones at the ready, to interview him and hear his first impressions. Hernández and the others lift him up and take him to the dressing room.
After the shower and celebrations, there is time for comments, thanks and dedications. ‘Very emotional. I feel very emotional,’ is the first thing he says. Then he explains: ‘It was what all my family were waiting for, it’s what I wanted, to score such an important goal as this for Atlético to return to its natural home, which is La Primera División (the first division). We’re a little nearer thanks to this victory. I dedicate it to all the members of the
Frente Atlético
(the group of fans with whom Fernando usually watches the matches in the Calderón. He also gave them the match shirt) who have come here to cheer us on. They are fantastic and it’s worth battling on in order to get them the promotion.’ He also has words of thanks for his team-mates: ‘They’ve helped me so much and have accepted me into the squad. Without them, the goal would not have been possible.’ He’s in Seventh Heaven and you can understand why. But he wasn’t
Atlético have to win if they are going to keep alive their hopes of promotion but, against Albacete Balompié, things aren’t going well. Atléti are playing badly. An ugly game, marked by tension. Fear of losing haunts Cantarero’s men. The defence is fragile and exposed to the counter-attacking of their opponents. In attack, there are fleeting glimpses of Kiko, who has returned to the team, and of Cubillo. With seventeen minutes remaining, it’s a miracle the Madrid side isn’t losing. They create three half-chances on goal with Luque and Correa, while Albacete go close on several occasions. Cantarero plays the one card he has left at his disposal – the youngster. ‘We needed a goal. That’s why I put Fernando on,’ the manager will say later, rubbing his hands with glee for making the right move. Yes, because El Niño, cheered on by 5,000 Atlético fans who have gone down to Albacete to support the team, has just five minutes to change things round. He comes on in place of Kiko and goes immediately to take up his place in the attack. The first time he touches the ball, he is knocked flat by Arias, who earns a red card and a dismissal.
In the second move, a long cross from Iván Amaya comes into the area from left to right. Fernando pretends to go one way, then the other, gains ground on the central defenders and gets behind them. It seems the cross will end up being too long, but the youngster moves rapidly without taking his eyes off the ball falling out of the sky. He stretches out his neck, hitting the ball decisively, accurately and powerfully, directing it towards the opposite post. He fears that it’s hit the post and gone out of play. But no, it rebounds into the net. The keeper looks at his defence with disgust while Fernando runs towards the goal line and, beside himself with joy, embraces Aguilera and Hernández – men almost twice his age. It is his first goal at national club level and a happy ending of the fairy tale for him and the team, which,with those three points, can continue to dream of promotion. The referee blows his whistle to end the encounter and El Niño succeeds in getting his hands on the ball that marked his first goal. He wants to keep it as a souvenir of his fledgling career. But then he changes his mind and kicks it hard and high towards the south end, where the Atléti fans are concentrated.
Meanwhile, on the pitch, around twenty journalists are following him, microphones at the ready, to interview him and hear his first impressions. Hernández and the others lift him up and take him to the dressing room.
After the shower and celebrations, there is time for comments, thanks and dedications. ‘Very emotional. I feel very emotional,’ is the first thing he says. Then he explains: ‘It was what all my family were waiting for, it’s what I wanted, to score such an important goal as this for Atlético to return to its natural home, which is La Primera División (the first division). We’re a little nearer thanks to this victory. I dedicate it to all the members of the
Frente Atlético
(the group of fans with whom Fernando usually watches the matches in the Calderón. He also gave them the match shirt) who have come here to cheer us on. They are fantastic and it’s worth battling on in order to get them the promotion.’ He also has words of thanks for his team-mates: ‘They’ve helped me so much and have accepted me into the squad. Without them, the goal would not have been possible.’ He’s in Seventh Heaven and you can understand why. But he wasn’t
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