Adam Crafton - From Guernica to Guardiola

To my grandfather, Martin Glyn

In the arts, it is often said that the darkest times can spawn the greatest beauty and, when it comes to Spaniards in English football, it feels rather fitting. When we think about the Spanish influence of the modern era, it is the close control, it is the geometric precision of their passing, it is the one-twos, the back-heels and the nutmegs. It is those days when Manchester Citys David Silva passes the ball like there is a computer chip in his boots, when Arsenals Santi Cazorla dazzles amid a blur of passing and movement at pinball speed, when Manchester Uniteds David De Gea gives the impression that he will happily play until midnight and his opponent still wont score a goal. It is Manchester City manager Pep Guardiola taking a sledgehammer to the conventions of English football and thrilling supporters with the shortest team in the Premier League.

In the 2016-17 season, the Premier League featured 36 Spaniards, a figure higher than any other nationality except for English players. There were over three times as many Spaniards as Germans, more than double the number of Welsh or Scottish players and over a dozen more Spaniards than Dutch or Belgian players. By November of the 2017-18 campaign, 28 Spaniards had made Premier League appearances. Those players current sides spent a total of 343.9m to sign them and they have a combined Twitter following of over 50 million. Big talent, big money.

We have come a long way since Dave Whelan and his three amigos at Wigan Athletic in the old Division Three during the mid-1990s. Posing in sombreros for photographs, sharing a Ford Escort and living in a run-down semi-detached house, Roberto Martinez, Jesus Seba and Isidro Diaz barely spoke a word of English between them. Martinez, of course, would go on to win the FA Cup as the clubs manager. Alex Calvo Garcia arrived at Scunthorpe as the only Spaniard and he became the first from his country to score at Wembley for an English club, striking the winning goal in a play-off final in 1999. Indeed, he has even written a book Scunthorpe hasta la muerte ( Scunthorpe Until I Die ) which must, surely, be the only foreign language book whose title includes the town of Scunthorpe.

Yet consider this statistic: by the time Chelsea made Albert Ferrer the first Premier League signing of a Spaniard in 1998, top-flight English clubs had purchased players from 51 other countries on six continents. Indeed, it was quite some time before Spanish players landed en masse in English football, notwithstanding the arrival of Nayim in the late 1980s. So, just how do we explain the absence of Spaniards in the top echelons of the English game between the 1950s and the late 1990s? In an era when Spanish football welcomed Brits such as Terry Venables, Gary Lineker, Sir Bobby Robson and Laurie Cunningham, to mention just a few, why were the Spaniards so reticent to swap the Iberian Peninsula for the English game? Or, indeed, why were English teams so reluctant to invest in the Spanish?

This is a book about football but it will also look at the political and historical context. Spanish football is inseparable from the politics that fuels its character and any attempts to understand the success or failure of its representatives abroad must be underpinned by in-depth analysis of an insular culture that is still coming to terms with its liberty.

The Spanish invasion is a modern phenomenon of the past 20 years and I hope this book explains the manner in which Spains international success has impregnated Englands national game, altering perceptions and changing attitudes. Yet for every sprinkling of quality that has arrived from Spain, there has been a liability waiting around the corner. We may talk about players such as Xabi Alonso, Alvaro Morata and Cesc Fabregas with the fondest regard, but Newcastle United followers will shudder upon hearing the names Albert Luque and Marcelino Elena, while Liverpool supporters may wince at the name Josemi and Arsenal fans remain underwhelmed by Jose Antonio Reyes. Some of my most enjoyable interviews for this book have been in the company of those who struggled to live up to their potential. I appreciated the honesty and self-deprecating humour of Marcelino and I was touched by the story of former Sunderland midfielder Arnau Riera, who captained Lionel Messi in Barcelonas B team but is now retired and working as a hotel receptionist.

In an age where Premier League access is ever more difficult, I am grateful to the many players from past and present who agreed to be extensively interviewed, including Mikel Arteta, Juan Mata, Cesar Azpilicueta, David De Gea, Ander Herrera, Pepe Reina, Fernando Hierro, Jose Antonio Reyes, Nayim, Alejandro Calvo Garcia, Marcelino Elena and Arnau Riera. Roberto Martinez, Aitor Karanka, Pepe Mel, Juande Ramos and Pep Clotet provided fascinating insights into management in England, while Xavi Valero and Pako Ayestaran, former lieutenants of Rafa Benitez, were equally instructive.

Stoke City chief executive Tony Scholes brought a different slant by explaining how his club has been influenced by Spanish ideas, while former Middlesbrough sporting director Victor Orta, now at Leeds, demonstrates how Spaniards have been entrusted with overseeing recruitment. Edu Rubio, the MK Dons head coach for the Under-23 and Under-18 teams, explains the Spanish influence filtering down to lower-league academies. I have also drawn on interviews I have carried out for the Daily Mail with Diego Costa, Alvaro Morata, Gus Poyet, Eric Abidal, Bojan Krkic, Gerard Deulofeu, Oriol Romeu and Quique Sanchez Flores.

Yet the story of Spaniards in English football has a deeper and richer backdrop. The year 2017 marked the 80th anniversary of the very first to arrive on our shores. My interest in this topic first stirred while studying Spanish at university. During a meeting with Amnesty International researcher Naomi Westland to discuss the Spanish Civil War, she informed me of the hidden stories of the first Spanish footballers to come to England.

In 1937, as General Franco linked up with Adolf Hitler to brutalise the Basque Country and ravage Guernica with an infamous aerial assault, 4,000 children boarded a rickety boat to England. In a battle for survival, they left their parents behind and embarked on a new life. Their personal and sporting stories are laced with triumph and tragedy, and some of these children, who began their careers at English clubs such as Southampton and Coventry, would go on to star for Real Madrid and Barcelona. One would score Reals first goal at the Bernabeu, another would be the first to conceptualise La Masia, the extraordinary Bara academy responsible for so many magnificent talents. These men would do so, however, having witnessed some of the most chilling scenes imaginable. The families of Emilio Aldecoa, Raimundo Perez Lezama, Sabino Barinaga and Jose and Antonio Gallego went above and beyond in their time and support for the project, bringing to life their relatives most cherished memories and affording me access to all manner of cuttings, keepsakes and memorabilia.

There is, sadly, an unfortunate symmetry to then and now, as the Spain of 2018 finds itself embroiled in its gravest crisis since democracy returned following Francos death in 1975. As the country comes to terms with an economic malaise and a Catalan breakaway movement, politics and culture are inextricably entwined in the football landscape once more. So this is a football story, but it is also a story about Spain Spain as a country, and how its way of thinking translates into football. This is also a book about England, our feelings towards refugees, and is a reminder of how open and closed our culture can prove to be.