No Isco, no disco: how a resurrection brought music then silence to Betis | Sid Lowe
Suddenly the music stopped and the dancing did too, the magic gone. The Benito Villamarín might just be the loudest ground in La Liga, where the club’s anthem claims fans are packed in like cannonballs and completely convinced their team are champions even if they’re last. There’s a lot of folklore, it’s true, and some of the silliness is oversold, but there’s a lot of fun and loads of noise. Home to Real Betis, it’s a place where even being dead is no excuse for not supporting, one fan famously taking his dad’s ashes in a milk carton and placing it in his seat every week, yet for one brief moment on Sunday evening it went quiet, 53,336 people sitting in silence saying nothing, which said everything.
This was the last thing anyone wanted to see. Isco was heading into the 81st minute of Betis’s game against Getafe and the 2,307th minute of his season when he chased a ball running out of play at the north end of the ground and felt something go. His hand reached for his hamstring and a hush fell. He leaned on the advertising board, lay on the turf, and did the finger spin that says: take me off. As he limped towards the touchline, teeth clenched, the silence was replaced by a standing ovation and they began chanting his name. Then he slumped on the bench, engulfed in a black coat and a blacker mood. Continue reading...
