As he climbed to his feet, detaching himself from the celebratory heap of bodies below, Pep Guardiola could see his prediction had been wrong: “I’m confident there will be about 60,000 there, but filling it is impossible.”
He’d seen it packed before, of course. But this was different, surreal even. The entirety of the 95,000 crowd inside Camp Nou was on its feet, with seemingly every other person twirling a Spanish flag in celebration. In the presidential palco, the royal family stood: relaxed and beaming, having even received an ovation upon their arrival. An arena that had rarely ever hosted a Spanish national side — and never has since — intoxicated by the scene on the field as the team in red wildly celebrated the last-minute goal, which left them just a few precious seconds away from Olympic gold.
That sultry Saturday night in August 1992, Barcelona was the centre of the sporting world. A night that was the culmination of a hugely successful Olympics that showcased Barcelona as a beautiful, compelling and progressive city. A night when everything just fell into place. Like the royal party being whisked across the city — having witnessed Fermin Cacho’s 1500 metre triumph in the Olympic stadium — in perfect time to see the Spanish footballers’ comeback at Camp Nou that clinched Spain’s 13th gold medal of the games.
Spain, and Barcelona, had triumphed. And for a few weeks at least, Spanish and Catalan identities functioned in relative harmony: a paz olímpica — an Olympic peace. Careful deployment of the Catalan flag, anthem and language throughout the games fostering a duality that culminated in the scenes at that iconic Gold Medal match.
While FC Barcelona were basking in the glow of their first-ever European Cup win, the Spanish national team was somewhat in the doldrums. Eliminated in the last sixteen of Italia ’90 by Yugoslavia, they failed to qualify for the 1992 European Championships in Sweden. That dismal form saw head coach Luis Suárez dismissed, with Vicente Miera put in brief charge before being shunted aside for the arrival of Javier Clemente. Instead, Miera was given the job of constructing an under-23 squad for the forthcoming Olympics.
It was a task he took to assiduously. The Cantabrian took the squad away from the bright lights and the mounting excitement to prepare in the cool and quiet of Cervera de Pisuerga in the Palencine mountains, just south of his native region. It was impossible to escape everything, though. Clemente was an unwelcome visitor whose forthright observations irked the quiet and cerebral Miera.
Although the team would be forever associated with that night in Barcelona, they barely set foot in the city until the day before the final. After that long training camp in the mountains, the team were based in Valencia, where they would play their games in a mainly half-empty Mestalla.
Miera had a talented squad at his disposal. Toni Jiménez had won the goalkeeping spot despite strong competition from Santi Cañizares. The Atlético Madrid pair of Roberto Solozábal and Juanma López were joined by Abelardo of Sporting Gijón in a three-man central defence. Barça and Real Madrid provided the wing-backs in Albert Ferrer and Mikel Lasa. Guardiola — in an incongruous number nine shirt — pulled the strings in midfield alongside Tenerife’s Rafa Berges, allowing Madrid’s Luis Enrique to break forward in support of his club-mate Alfonso and Kiko Narváez, then of Cádiz.
The opening match saw little by the way of Olympic spirit. A bad-tempered game against a talented Colombian side, spearheaded by Faustino Asprilla, saw a remarkable four red cards and 11 bookings. Amid the mayhem, Spain ran out handsome 4-0 winners.
Aside from dodging Clemente, the players spent their downtime in Valencia happily playing cards and cheering Miguel Induráin’s relentless march to a second Tour de France. But the urge to see a bit more of the glitz and glamour of the games led to a request to attend the opening ceremony that was initially declined by Miera and the Federation. This led to a somewhat tense stand-off before the Federation eventually relented, chartering a plane for the players to join the Parade of Nations and witness the emblematic lighting of the Olympic cauldron by Paralympic archer Antonio Rebollo.
It kept the squad happy. “To have missed a night as special as that would have been unforgivable,” said Ferrer, “To be there amongst the best sportspeople in the world was something very unique.”
Back in Valencia, they cruised through their group, accounting for Egypt and Qatar without conceding a goal. That set up a huge quarter-final against Cesare Maldini’s Italy that featured the likes of Demetrio Albertini, Dino Baggio and Guissepe Favalli. A cool finish from Kiko and an incorrectly disallowed late Italian goal saw Spain through to the semi-finals, within sight of Barcelona and the podium.
The semi-final drew 38,000 to Mestalla as the team finally registered on the general public’s radar. A clinical 2-0 win over Ghana propelled them from the middle to the front pages of the sports dailies as the country sensed the prospect of another Spanish gold.
They could finally pack their bags for the centre of the universe — Barcelona — arriving the day before the final, checking in to the Hotel Rey Juan Carlos I, just off the Avinguda Diagonal. The star-struck squad were delighted to rub shoulders with the array of sports stars and celebrities that came and went through the hotel’s lobby. Guardiola, in particular, finding it hard to hide his delight at meeting Steffi Graf.
An even more authentic Olympic experience awaited them after the game. The sheer number of dignitaries arriving for the closing ceremony meant the hotel could not accommodate them for a second night. Win or lose, the team would take up lodging in the Olympic Village. That was something that Miera sounded less than impressed with: “I’m told it’s pretty much bedlam there every night, but we don’t have any other choice.”
At Camp Nou, Spain started strongly, but their opponents, Poland, were proving to be durable opposition and took the lead on the stroke of half-time — the first goal Spain had conceded in the tournament.
Abelardo’s powerful header drew the teams level before Kiko bullied the Polish defence to put Spain ahead. Still, Poland would not conform to the script and equalised, leaving the game headed to a nervy period of extra-time as Spain won a corner in the 90th minute.
Ferrer’s poorly hit cross fell to Luis Enrique. His low drive was blocked but fell for Kiko, who took one touch with his left before calmly lofting the ball over the goalkeeper with his right, dissecting the two players on the goal line to give Spain gold.
Kiko collapsed to his knees. Ferrer was the first to join him, followed by Abelardo, then Luis Enrique, then seemingly everyone. Guardiola joined them before rising again, taking in the stadium he was so familiar with rapt in scenes it would never see again.
“I’m over the moon,” grinned Ferrer, “A gold medal in your own home ground! The truth is I doubted there would be so many people here, but I also thought there could never be an empty Camp Nou.”
The squad patiently lined up to receive Spain’s first-ever football gold, waiting for their medals beneath a giant scoreboard that subtly displayed the scoreline in Catalan: ‘Polonia 2 Espanya 3‘. They then turned to face the Spanish flag as Camp Nou — a stadium where the nation anthem is regularly drowned out by boos — respectfully stood for the rendition, even applauding as the royal family appeared on the big screen.
As the players finally jumped off the podium, 11 kilometres away in the satellite town of Badalona, the US basketball team featuring Magic Johnson, Michael Jordan, and Larry Bird were just tipping off on their way to the most inevitable and star-studded gold of the games. As if it were even needed, the ‘Dream Team’ had added yet another layer of glamour and would ultimately lend a nickname to the host city’s swaggering European champions, who were in the middle of four domestic titles in a row.
But club loyalties and old antagonisms were far from the minds of those celebrating the gold medal win. At the post-match celebrations, Barça president, Josep Luís Nuñez, and his Madrid counterpart, Ramón Mendoza, for once toasted the same victory — Barça vice-president Joan Gaspart joining the Real Madrid table to clink glasses with Mendoza.
The party rolled on, well into the night. A conga wound around the room, featuring the famously reserved Miera and his assistant, László Kubala. Nuñez led the singsong, starting with the usual party staples before the entire room belted out ‘Que viva España’ as one. In the spirit of the occasion, that was immediately followed by a raucous version of the patriotic Catalan classic ‘El meu avi‘.
Amid the revelry, a high ranking Federation executive joked: “Maybe we should move all of those national team games we’ve been playing in Valencia and Seville to here.”
The sardonic response from a Barça board member would prove to be more prophetic: “Don’t worry. Real Madrid are here for the first game of the season in a few weeks time. It’ll all be back to normal by then.”