© Europa Press

Spain has won the Euro 2024 and England hasn’t, and we are thrilled. Mariano Rajoy, stoic philosopher, was right: in football and in life, it does no good to be a killjoy. His precursor, Seneca, spoke of the absurdity of protracted pessimism, whatever misfortune befalls us, because if the hurt is deep, it won’t last, and if it lasts, it can’t be that deep. Thanks to the young heroes under Luis de la Fuente, we feel a joy that wants to last, plowing through the sentimental memory of a nation much less conflict-ridden than we insist on believing it is.

While the world got crazier by the minute, from Pennsylvania to Catalonia by way of Calle Bambú in Madrid, the Spanish team won match after match with embarrassing efficiency, indifferent to the apocalypse. It eliminated illustrious champions like France or Germany, and met the highest expectations with a dazzling united play, capable of defensive sacrifice and of individual brilliance. But the public and journalism remained wary: better not to say aloud that this team already smelled victory back home. The emotional restraint so characteristic of this coach turned out to be the perfect strategy for shielding the players from the unhinged pressures of our ‘Españita'...[+]