Back in 1985 the Spanish football fans didn't really travel abroad.
Foreign travel was for work, or to visit family. The idea of getting on a plane to go to a football match was almost unthinkable.
It was changing – after The World Cup in Spain in ’82 there was more interest. But it was still something of a novelty.
So it was back in 1985 that Spain was set to visit Wrexham in North Wales to play in a qualifier for the 1986 World Cup.
The Spanish authorities (don’t ask me who) were asked to send a delegation and from Madrid the invitation was sent to the Spanish Embassy in London.
Whilst they may have been excited at the prospect, as soon as they looked at a map and located Wrexham they decided it would be best handled by the Consulate in Manchester.
The Consulate received the invitation and, having located Wrexham on a map of their own asked if anyone in the office wanted to represent Spain at the game.
So it was that my wife – who was a secretary at the Consulate at the time – myself, a Manchester City fan from Manchester and a good fried of ours, a Frenchman named Claude became the official delegation from the Spanish government.
Armed with the invitation and a Spanish flag we duly headed over to Wrexham – being from the North I knew exactly were it was – and took our seats in the posh part of the stand, having ousted a friendly group of London based Spaniards who referred to themselves as the “Chelsea Dagos”.
We draped our flag over the stand and stood for the national anthems.
We then got to see one of the best goals ever scored – that Mark Hughes scissor kick.
Frankly, this would be unthinkable today – the idea that no-one from Madrid would fly over (on expenses, of course) is absurd.
But there it is, the Spanish delegation at a World Cup qualifier were a Spanish Señorita at her first ever football game, a Mancunian and a Frenchman.
You couldn’t make it up!
