I grew up in the days of Súper Dépor. As a teenager I saw us beat teams like Manchester United and Juventus so despite the heavy defeat in Milan, I still believed we could come back. My father, Antonio, had seen Deportivo in the third division and he felt it was impossible. But I was 15 and had only known Súper Dépor, the team built by Augusto César Lendoiro, our greatest president. Two years before, we’d beaten Real Madrid in the Spanish Cup final at the Santiago Bernabéu to spoil their centenary celebrations. And we had the best Dépor player of all, Mauro Silva, the Gran Capitán, who now has a street named after him.
The game was in Easter week and a lot of my friends were away on holiday – they now regret not having been there. By the 43rd minute it was 4-4 on aggregate and when the referee blew for half-time, our players ran back to the changing room as if they didn’t want to stop. This was the Milan of Maldini, Pirlo and Nesta but we had lots of goals in the team then, and not just from strikers like Diego Tristán. When Fran got the fourth, I hugged my dad and said: “Papá, we’re going to win.” He died a few years ago so that memory has a lot of meaning.
The euphoria lasted right through to the semi-finals. “If we’ve beaten Milan how can we not beat Porto?” was the feeling and you had people looking at trips to Gelsenkirchen for the final. Instead, we lost. And looking back now, it was our last great European night.
I grew up in the days of Súper Dépor. As a teenager I saw us beat teams like Manchester United and Juventus so despite the heavy defeat in Milan, I still believed we could come back. My father, Antonio, had seen Deportivo in the third division and he felt it was impossible. But I was 15 and had only known Súper Dépor, the team built by Augusto César Lendoiro, our greatest president. Two years before, we’d beaten Real Madrid in the Spanish Cup final at the Santiago Bernabéu to spoil their centenary celebrations. And we had the best Dépor player of all, Mauro Silva, the Gran Capitán, who now has a street named after him.
The game was in Easter week and a lot of my friends were away on holiday – they now regret not having been there. By the 43rd minute it was 4-4 on aggregate and when the referee blew for half-time, our players ran back to the changing room as if they didn’t want to stop. This was the Milan of Maldini, Pirlo and Nesta but we had lots of goals in the team then, and not just from strikers like Diego Tristán. When Fran got the fourth, I hugged my dad and said: “Papá, we’re going to win.” He died a few years ago so that memory has a lot of meaning.
The euphoria lasted right through to the semi-finals. “If we’ve beaten Milan how can we not beat Porto?” was the feeling and you had people looking at trips to Gelsenkirchen for the final. Instead, we lost. And looking back now, it was our last great European night.
I grew up in the days of Súper Dépor. As a teenager I saw us beat teams like Manchester United and Juventus so despite the heavy defeat in Milan, I still believed we could come back. My father, Antonio, had seen Deportivo in the third division and he felt it was impossible. But I was 15 and had only known Súper Dépor, the team built by Augusto César Lendoiro, our greatest president. Two years before, we’d beaten Real Madrid in the Spanish Cup final at the Santiago Bernabéu to spoil their centenary celebrations. And we had the best Dépor player of all, Mauro Silva, the Gran Capitán, who now has a street named after him.
The game was in Easter week and a lot of my friends were away on holiday – they now regret not having been there. By the 43rd minute it was 4-4 on aggregate and when the referee blew for half-time, our players ran back to the changing room as if they didn’t want to stop. This was the Milan of Maldini, Pirlo and Nesta but we had lots of goals in the team then, and not just from strikers like Diego Tristán. When Fran got the fourth, I hugged my dad and said: “Papá, we’re going to win.” He died a few years ago so that memory has a lot of meaning.
The euphoria lasted right through to the semi-finals. “If we’ve beaten Milan how can we not beat Porto?” was the feeling and you had people looking at trips to Gelsenkirchen for the final. Instead, we lost. And looking back now, it was our last great European night.
I grew up in the days of Súper Dépor. As a teenager I saw us beat teams like Manchester United and Juventus so despite the heavy defeat in Milan, I still believed we could come back. My father, Antonio, had seen Deportivo in the third division and he felt it was impossible. But I was 15 and had only known Súper Dépor, the team built by Augusto César Lendoiro, our greatest president. Two years before, we’d beaten Real Madrid in the Spanish Cup final at the Santiago Bernabéu to spoil their centenary celebrations. And we had the best Dépor player of all, Mauro Silva, the Gran Capitán, who now has a street named after him.
The game was in Easter week and a lot of my friends were away on holiday – they now regret not having been there. By the 43rd minute it was 4-4 on aggregate and when the referee blew for half-time, our players ran back to the changing room as if they didn’t want to stop. This was the Milan of Maldini, Pirlo and Nesta but we had lots of goals in the team then, and not just from strikers like Diego Tristán. When Fran got the fourth, I hugged my dad and said: “Papá, we’re going to win.” He died a few years ago so that memory has a lot of meaning.
The euphoria lasted right through to the semi-finals. “If we’ve beaten Milan how can we not beat Porto?” was the feeling and you had people looking at trips to Gelsenkirchen for the final. Instead, we lost. And looking back now, it was our last great European night.
I grew up in the days of Súper Dépor. As a teenager I saw us beat teams like Manchester United and Juventus so despite the heavy defeat in Milan, I still believed we could come back. My father, Antonio, had seen Deportivo in the third division and he felt it was impossible. But I was 15 and had only known Súper Dépor, the team built by Augusto César Lendoiro, our greatest president. Two years before, we’d beaten Real Madrid in the Spanish Cup final at the Santiago Bernabéu to spoil their centenary celebrations. And we had the best Dépor player of all, Mauro Silva, the Gran Capitán, who now has a street named after him.
The game was in Easter week and a lot of my friends were away on holiday – they now regret not having been there. By the 43rd minute it was 4-4 on aggregate and when the referee blew for half-time, our players ran back to the changing room as if they didn’t want to stop. This was the Milan of Maldini, Pirlo and Nesta but we had lots of goals in the team then, and not just from strikers like Diego Tristán. When Fran got the fourth, I hugged my dad and said: “Papá, we’re going to win.” He died a few years ago so that memory has a lot of meaning.
The euphoria lasted right through to the semi-finals. “If we’ve beaten Milan how can we not beat Porto?” was the feeling and you had people looking at trips to Gelsenkirchen for the final. Instead, we lost. And looking back now, it was our last great European night.
I grew up in the days of Súper Dépor. As a teenager I saw us beat teams like Manchester United and Juventus so despite the heavy defeat in Milan, I still believed we could come back. My father, Antonio, had seen Deportivo in the third division and he felt it was impossible. But I was 15 and had only known Súper Dépor, the team built by Augusto César Lendoiro, our greatest president. Two years before, we’d beaten Real Madrid in the Spanish Cup final at the Santiago Bernabéu to spoil their centenary celebrations. And we had the best Dépor player of all, Mauro Silva, the Gran Capitán, who now has a street named after him.
The game was in Easter week and a lot of my friends were away on holiday – they now regret not having been there. By the 43rd minute it was 4-4 on aggregate and when the referee blew for half-time, our players ran back to the changing room as if they didn’t want to stop. This was the Milan of Maldini, Pirlo and Nesta but we had lots of goals in the team then, and not just from strikers like Diego Tristán. When Fran got the fourth, I hugged my dad and said: “Papá, we’re going to win.” He died a few years ago so that memory has a lot of meaning.
The euphoria lasted right through to the semi-finals. “If we’ve beaten Milan how can we not beat Porto?” was the feeling and you had people looking at trips to Gelsenkirchen for the final. Instead, we lost. And looking back now, it was our last great European night.
