Every time I set foot on the Bernabeu turf I got the jitters, a kind of anxiety that takes hold of you the moment you step out into the glare of the floodlights.

The bacillus of efficiency has also attacked football, and some dare to ask what's the point in playing well. I feel tempted to tell about the time they dared to ask Borges what is poetry for, to which he answered: 'What is a sunrise for? What are caresses for? What is the smell of coffee for?'

You cannot play with Riquelme without playing for Riquelme.