Alright, let’s talk about Gonzalo Higuain’s time at Real Madrid. Thinking about that whole period really brings back some memories for me. It wasn’t just about watching games; it felt like a specific chapter, you know?
I remember first really paying attention to Madrid around the time he arrived, or maybe a little after. Young guy, lots of hype, coming from Argentina. You could see the talent straight away. He had that knack for being in the right place, finding the net when you least expected it sometimes. We’d watch the games, me and a couple of buddies, usually grabbing some snacks, making a whole evening of it.
My Own Little Rituals
It’s funny the habits you pick up. For those big Madrid games, especially the Clásicos or important Champions League nights when Higuain was playing, I had this routine:
- Had to wear my old, slightly faded Madrid scarf. Not a jersey, just the scarf. Felt luckier.
- Grabbed the same seat on the sofa. If someone was in it, I’d awkwardly stand until they moved.
- No talking during critical moments, especially when Higuain got the ball near the box. Drove my friends mad sometimes.
It sounds silly now, but back then, it felt important! We got really invested. And Higuain, man, he was often right in the thick of it. He scored some absolute crackers, goals that made you jump off the sofa. Remember that incredible tight-angle goal? Pure instinct.
But then, there was the other side. The pressure at Madrid is just insane, isn’t it? You score loads, but if you miss a couple of big chances, people get on your back. I recall loads of debates with my mates about him. Was he clinical enough? Was he world-class? He’d bang in 20+ goals a season, and still, the conversation would happen. It felt a bit unfair sometimes, watching from the outside. He always worked his socks off, you could see that.
I actually tried to get his jersey once. Went to the sports shop, looked around, but they mostly had the big names like Ronaldo or Casillas back then. Couldn’t find a Higuain one in my size. Ended up just getting another plain Madrid top. Bit of a letdown, but hey.
Seeing him leave Madrid felt… weird. Like the end of an era, even though the team kept evolving. He went on to have a great career elsewhere too, scoring goals wherever he went, which wasn’t surprising. But for me, I’ll always associate him strongly with that specific period at Real Madrid – the excitement, the goals, the debates, the whole package. It was quite the ride watching him in that white shirt. Definitely left his mark, at least in my memory of watching Madrid back then.
