"Yalah, yalaaaah" (let's go!), the dozens of people of Moroccan origin who gathered this afternoon in front of the television at the Rincón del Raval restaurant shouted frantically when their team's players challenged the Spaniards. The master of ceremonies, the one who apparently suffered the most during the 120 minutes of play and who shed a few tears when confirming Morocco's victory in the penalty shootout, is Yahya, a burly young man who aspires to become a mosso d'esquadra. The relative contention of a large part of the public in the early stages of the match has given way to extreme nervousness, being aware that Morocco could surprise, and total joy when the final three goals materialized. "This is a historic moment," Yahya summed up excitedly.
Mohamed, Mustapha, Yahya, Salah... At the start of the match, the male audience stated, not too convincingly, that Morocco was going to win. Women did not see it so clearly. Fatima, diplomatically, commented that she would be happy with any result. At her side, her husband, Roidan, could not hide his tension, he was moving his feet nonstop, and he was betting on the Moroccan victory. "I hope there is no extension, I have a flight to Tangier at nine at night," Fátima commented at the beginning of the second part. Behind the bar, Mustapha, co-owner of the establishment, points out the player Noussair Mazraoui. “Your grandfather and my father are brothers,” he would say proudly as he served chicken dishes and mint tea.
“Spain has more experience, but we have opportunities. Come on, come on!" Yahya insisted. He says that he came to Catalonia with his family from Oujda when he was two years old, who now works in a rubber factory but his dream is to be mosso d'esquadra. "I hope they open oppositions in 2023, because I have already failed three times", he confesses. He talks but does not take his eyes off the screen. "As Morocco scores, they are going to blow up the tables, but for now they are not creating scoring chances", he points out without taking his eyes off from the screen.
The place is overflowing, entire families eat chicken dishes with rice, others savor their teas, fruit juices and some coffee. No alcohol.
Fatima looks at the clock every two minutes. On the ground she rests her suitcase, ready to embark for Tangier. "I have vacations, I work in the kitchen of a restaurant in Sant Cugat," she says in a good mood. She had never followed the selection before. This is her first World Cup. “I got hooked on the last two games, but I live it calmly, unlike my husband, he is super nervous, his hands are frozen. Look at him how he moves his feet! I, if he loses Morocco, I will not be upset, but he will ”.
Mustapha is more aware of the clientele than the party. Twenty teas come out for every coffee they serve. The restaurant is a stone's throw from the Sant Pau gardens, where homeless citizens, some young migrants, spend the night. "At night, when closing, we usually distribute about twenty food rations to people without resources," says Mustapha. Yesterday he made a killing but times are difficult, he insists. He takes a gas bill out of a drawer that amounts to 1,800 euros, almost triple what he paid a few months ago.
Yahya, the aspiring mosso, cries out in despair when his team misses a chance to score, and immediately afterwards shows his joy when Spain fails, in the last minutes of the second half.
The tension breaks out in overtime. Fatima does not want to leave but she is afraid of missing her flight. It doesn't matter, with the penalty shootout, euphoria is unleashed, Fatima is encouraged, grows up and no longer says that this is just fun, a game. He vibrates, squeals and gets up from his chair with the first goal. Mustapha gives permission for a large Moroccan flag to be brought out. Yahya gets on a table. His face is a poem. Second goal. Third. Tears fall as Fatima hugs her husband, grabs her suitcase and rushes to the airport. The others continue with the celebration towards the Rambla.
