The demonisation of a new dirty genius
Like Myra Hindley, Rose West and Debbie McGee, Sevilla centre-back Javi Navarro is one half of a truly terrifying duo, partner in crime to Dr Pablo Alfaro the dirty genius - a qualified gynaecologist and Spain's most infamous, clever and resourceful hardman.
Dr Alfaro is the man that even one of the first division's most nails defenders (himself described as "a psychopath; the hardest man on earth" by a team-mate) insists goes "too far, too often". He is the man who boasts more red cards than any other in Spain. And he is the man who perpetrated the ultimate act of filthy footballing genius last season, by inserting his finger into an opponent's arse - an opponent marvellously named Toché.
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But while once he was Alfaro's apprentice, now nasty Navarro is the master - what with Alfaro growing as slow as a wheelie-trolley-wielding granny down a narrow supermarket aisle and increasingly finding himself left out in favour of also-pretty-rock, gay magazine cover star Aitor Ocio. Despite his as-yet unproven ability in the nifty finger-work stakes, Navarro has caught up with Dr Alfaro when it comes to the dark arts. Like throttling, booting up in the air and gauging out eyes. Or maiming people.
Which is what he did at Son Moix two weeks ago when he crashed into Real Mallorca's Juan Arango. The Venezuelan ended up with 47 stitches, a fractured cheek-bone and a couple of days in intensive care. If Mallorca's medical operation had not been so smooth, quick and successful Arango would have died, bleeding heavily on the pitch having swallowed his tongue, suffered convulsions and passed out. He remained unconscious for nearly three-quarters of an hour, while his wife, down at the dressing room door, wept. Live on telly.
Fortunately, Arango is going to be OK. One team-mate this weekend admitted, before his side all but confirmed relegation with a 4-0 stuffing at Atlético, that he "looks absolutely fine - you'd never believe that he had so many stitches, there's only really a little mark by his lip."
Which is a relief, but it has done little to take the pressure off Javi Navarro, now everyone's favourite evil enemy, the witch at the centre of the witchhunt. His challenge, insisted Arango's father, "was attempted homicide" and however much Navarro, who did admit to "not exactly going round handing out sweeties", protested his innocence it made no difference.
Mallorca president Mateo Almenay, describing the challenge as an "assault", demanded an "exemplary" ban and announced that the club would take legal action, and the press joined in. Spain's most respected columnist called Navarro a "savage", one radio station cunningly invented the world 'manymultireoffender' to describe him and his propensity for violent crimes, and for once front covers weren't graced with Madrid, Barça or Fernando bloody Alonso. Navarro hardly deserves the benefit of the doubt when he insists that he didn't mean it. But the challenge was far from clear-cut: with the ball in the middle, the two players ran towards each other and as they crashed into each other Navarro lifted his arm up in what looked like an attempt to protect himself. From the side angle it looks rather more like a forearm smash, it is true, but it remains unclear.
Certainly not clear enough to say with any real conviction that Navarro meant it - even though a conviction is exactly what much of the press, still piqued at recent, infamous battles between Madrid and Sevilla, are after. There is a willingness to get Navarro that was lacking (except in the agent who foolishly tried to start a fight with him) when Thomas Gravesen creamed Getafe's Gabi and brilliantly only half insisted: "I never try to hurt anyone, especially not on the pitch. (But whacking people in the street is fine)."
Navarro's was a different case, though: a player with a long, bloody record, playing for a club famed for being hard, he had nearly killed someone (although the effectiveness of a bad challenge shouldn't really be the measure of how bad it is). And he had done so at the worst possible time - just as international week began, leaving the press with hundreds of pages to fill and nothing else to talk about except how horrible he is.
Well, almost nothing: when Spain play there's always another chance to point out how indispensable Raúl is, a chance to run massive headlines declaring, "Raúl always returns" (which of course he does: for one night only, every six or seven months), or this column's favourite from the past week's 0-0 draw with Bosnia: "Raúl came on and we nearly won." Nearly. Just as the press nearly forgot about Navarro for a day.
Small wonder, then, that Pablo Alfaro moaned that "even the worst serial killers" - by which he presumably means those who kill a lot rather than the ones who are so bad they don't get beyond the first - "don't get treated like this". After two weeks of Sevilla-bashing, his president agreed, groaning: "Javi has been demonised: the only question mark left is whether he should be hanged, shot or stoned to death."
So, when Navarro, still awaiting his fate, went onto the pitch to face Numancia yesterday, wearing the captain's armband and cheered on by the Sevilla fans who carried banners supporting him, he knew he would be watched like a hawk. On the face of it, that wasn't a bad idea either - after all, but for a moment of Jesús Navas genius, the game itself was dire. Yet if anyone expected more action from the bad boy they went home sorely disappointed: the Sevilla centre-back failed to commit a single foul. All game long.
*If Navarro did nothing, Alfonso Pino Zamorano the referee who, much to the disgust of the Madrid press, only gave him a yellow in Mallorca and was also under close scrutiny had another exciting afternoon, gifting Barça a vital penalty from an outrageous dive. Now the whinging about scandalous refereeing, political conspiracies and robberies are coming from the other side. Just in time to crank up next weekend's Madrid-Barça clasico at the Bernabéu. Genius.
courtsey: Guardian Unlimited Football
Is this what Spanish football has become?