Atlético
Madrid's coach Quique Flores watches a training session at the Vicente
Calderón ahead of Chelsea's visit. Photograph: Dani Cardona/Reuters
In
1969 a property development near Segovia undertaken by Jesús Gil
collapsed, killing 58 people. It had been opened before the cement was
dry and was built with no plans, no surveyor, no architect and
substandard material. It often feels like it served as the blueprint
for running Atlético Madrid,
the club where Gil became president in 1987 and owner in 1992 – a
"model" that has been followed by his successors, son Miguel-Angel Gil
Marín and the film producer Enrique Cerezo. Tonight Chelsea visit what
could well be the worst run club in Europe, described as a "madhouse"
by the coach Abel Resino.
Make that "ex-coach". Resino has been
sacked; he is no longer in charge of a club that lurches clumsily from
crisis to crisis, at war with itself, a club where the owner, Gil
Marín, and the president, Cerezo, can't live with each other or without
each other either; where the players hate the sporting director, the
fans hate the players and the feeling is mutual; where footballers
arrive and depart by the busload but there still isn't a right-back and
the debt tops €300m (£271m). Atlético Madrid must be the only place
where the owners have been convicted of fraud – against their own club.
In
1969, Gil was pardoned by General Franco. Almost 30 years later, a
statute of limitations rescued him, Gil Marín and Cerezo from prison
even though they were found to have fraudulently acquired Atlético upon
flotation in 1992. Atlético had been conned then; fans believe they
have been conned ever since. They lie in La Liga's relegation zone; lose tonight and their Champions League campaign will be virtually over. But that does not even begin to tell their story.
Resino was sacked after the 4-0 defeat at Stamford Bridge,
although he did not find out until the following day as no one could
get hold of him. The sacking led to a surreal 24 hours in which
Atlético went through nine potential coaches – nine different men with nine different profiles.
The interim coach's first game ended with the side conceding a
90th-minute equaliser against nine men; the new coach Quique Flores's
first training session ended with ultras from the extreme-right Frente Atlético being allowed in to "encourage" the players.
It
was typical Atlético – as if Cerezo had put together a short film,
condensing everything that has made Atlético such a mess over so many
years into a single reel.
Jesús Gil was a big-bellied,
foul-mouthed multi-millionaire who worked in a brothel, was convicted
of swindling the Marbella council, punched a fellow president, abused a
judge, threatened to feed his players to his pet crocodile, ditched the
youth system, leaving Raúl to seek solace across the city, and admitted
to consulting his horse Imperious on transfers. Which may explain the
donkeys. He bought 141 players and went through 44 coaches in 17 years.
Still,
at least Gil's Atlético won the double in 1996 – a success he
celebrated by parading through Madrid on an elephant. Since then,
Spain's third biggest club have won nothing (except the Segunda
Division title and the Intertoto Cup). Real Madrid, Barcelona, Sevilla,
Zaragoza, Deportivo, Valencia, Espanyol, Betis and Mallorca have. Even
Celta, Recreativo, Osasuna, Getafe, Villarreal, Real Sociedad and
Athletic Bilbao have been as successful. In 2000, Atlético were
relegated.
Gil died in 2004, having passed the reigns to Cerezo.
But while Cerezo was the president and invested heavily, the real
power, with 67% of the shares, was Gil Marín and things didn't improve.
The battle between them made things worse. At least with Gil, it was
often funny. There are still no plans, no structure, no architect. Just
two men trying to out-do each other. As one insider puts it: "If Gil
Marín doesn't like a Cerezo appointment, he makes another, deliberately
antagonistic one himself." The problem, says the former vice-president
Fernando García Abásolo is that "no one knows who's in charge."
Atlético
have had nine coaches in six years; since returning to the top flight
in 2002, they have brought in over 60 players and released as many
again, including Fernando Torres, the standard bearer they would never
sell – just as they would never leave the stadium they're now leaving.
Of the signings, only two, Diego Forlán and Sergio Agüero, were
unqualified successes. Gil Marín publicly complained that they were
paying the price for not selling them; Cerezo publicly boasted of
keeping them. Different messages, same old contradictions. Same old
Atlético.
A famous advert shows a small boy asking his dad why he is an atlético.
His father is stumped. There's no logical answer. It's an emotion. No
other club has so embraced the loser's role, nor so internalised the
identity of long-suffering faithful. But as time passes, the proudly
pessimistic message looks more like an excuse for underachieving and
doing nothing, a smokescreen disguising culpability. Now, the fans have
had enough. Now, they've decided it's time to boot out the men who
should never have been allowed in in the first place.
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! QUE VERGUENZA !