The first time anyone heard of Nolito was when he scored against Real Madrid. The first and, it seemed, the last. That night, he left the 5,000 San Pablo ground carrying Robinho’s shirt for his uncle having grabbed the equaliser that meant semi-professional Écija Balompié from Spain’s regionalised third tier had held the galácticos; the next morning he was at the newspaper kiosk, clutching a copy of Marca. On the front page it said: “Not Beckham, not Ronaldo, not Reyes, not Robinho … Golito de Nolito” – a little goal from Nolito.
It was October 2006 and Nolito was 20; on Saturday he turned 30, scoring on his birthday. On Wednesday he will be in Manchester City’s squad at Barcelona, one of his former teams. That he made it this far owes much – “more than I can ever say” – to the men who will be on the Camp Nou touchline. Pep Guardiola and Luis Enrique did not just coach Nolito at two clubs and compete to sign him this summer, they brought him here. He might have been headline news a decade back but his is not a story of guaranteed success; those could have been his 15 minutes, long forgotten.
There is a moment while Nolito is talking about his childhood when he says something that seems almost to encapsulate his career, his life. Nolito’s mother was in prison and his father was “another story”, one he does not wish to tell. He lived with his grandparents Manuel, a fisherman, and Dolores. They had 11 children of their own, some of whom lived in the flat too; there were lots of them, little to go around. Aged 13, Nolito got a job at a butcher’s. “I never got to cutting; it was more selling pre-cooked meats,” he says. “And in the evenings I’d train with the local team.”
At 16, he joined Valencia but soon returned, not ready to be alone and unprepared for a professionalised game; at 19 he signed for Atlético Sanluqueño, but that was in the amateur fourth tier; and at 20, he got the better of Beckham, Ronaldo and Robinho but got battered in the Bernabéu second leg; back to life, back to reality.
Barcelona came next, where Guardiola said he deserved an opportunity, but while he shone for Barça B, the “youth” team on their way to promotion, Leo Messi, Pedro and David Villa were there and he played only 14 minutes. Barça B’s coach Luis Enrique got the best from him but, approaching 25, he could not wait. Nolito joined Benfica where he scored in his first five games, got 15 that season and played in the Champions League, but he did not start, score or assist in the competition proper; and the following January he was loaned to Granada.
Then, in 2013, a decade after first playing for Sanluqueño, he went to Celta Vigo, where a familiar face had become manager. “Luis Enrique appeared at a moment in my career where it was either take a step forward or a step back,” he says. “I was at Barcelona B with him, then Celta. He bet very, very heavily on me and supported me. He made me see football differently, convincing me I could really make it.” Luis Enrique saw something in him; he also saw something on him. “I [had] always played carrying extra kilos,” Nolito explains. “He made me see that it was fundamental to lose weight, 10 kilos, to make the breakthrough. He was pesado [insistent], for my own good. It was hard, but there’s been a massive change. Brutal.
“He was on at me every day; he’s been fundamental for my career. The cakes, the bread, the Coke: it’s all good but for my profession it was shit. I’d train then eat: train, eat, train, eat. I was a fish biting its own tail. Eventually, you realise: an elite player has to be fino [slim].”
The results were spectacular; first with Barcelona B, then more consistently at Celta, whose attack he led for three years, first under Luis Enrique then Toto Berizzo, scoring 39 league goals in 100 games, each dedicated to his grandfather, who passed away in 2008. A Spain cap came in November 2014, aged 28. Offers followed, including from England. Last summer more arrived.
But why go to City? After all, he had found a home in Vigo and last Christmas he publicly said he would leave only for Barcelona. But this time was different: the clubs were bigger, the managers men who had believed in him when others did not, and the time right.
Celta were happier to sell to City than to Barcelona and Luis Enrique was determined to sign him. He knew Nolito from working together and had suffered him as an opponent too, losing twice to the Celta side he inspired. But Nolito knew a familiar problem might be repeated: Suárez, Messi and Neymar could limit his minutes. “It was close with Barcelona but in the end I chose City,” he says. “The last three years at Celta have been the best of my life but it was time to go, the right moment. I’d like to win something before my career is over and I think I can at City.”
If some had doubts, many centred on Nolito’s age and the relative modesty of his career, the suspicion that the fact that it took so long hid some flaw. Nolito does not agree. “It’s true that people always doubted me but there’s always someone who does. It’s not been easy: I’ve been through bad moments but this is a good moment and has been for a few years. I think the best is still to come. Age is just a number. I’m in the best shape of my career. I haven’t turned 40, I’ve turned 30. And I honestly feel like I’m 20. Football has changed: you see players who are better at 35 than at 25. You think ‘bloody hell’, he’s 35 and he’s like a fucking motorbike. When I’m tired, I’ll head home. But there’s a long way to go.”
He is enjoying it too much to stop now, although spend time with Nolito and it is hard to avoid the conclusion that he always enjoys life anyway. There is an openness and a cheeky charm about him. He chats away in the strong accent of the province of Cádiz, down in Spain’s south-west where funny comes as standard. He does not just answer questions, he asks them too.
He lives in central Manchester. He misses his best friends – a fisherman and a driving school teacher – and his grandmother, who’ll visit soon. The English is hard, too; he admits that he’s not much good yet. But there’s sign language, David Silva to translate, and he’s learning from Match of the Day too. He’s convinced he’ll get there eventually. And if he doesn’t, his daughters will. “That was part of the decision,” he says. “It’s spectacular to see them learn – and with English they can go anywhere.”
Nolito did not have it easy growing up. They were poor, at times relying on handouts. There is a reason he worked at a butcher’s so young. He talks about his mates having to lend him money; he never had any. Things have changed; but not them, he says. Nor, it seems, has he. He is proud, too. “People like to talk, sometimes they invent things, but I know who I am, where I’ve come from and who treated me well. I was raised by my grandparents; they’re my mum and dad. I’m very happy with my childhood; I was happy,” Nolito says.
Never more so than when playing on the outdoor, concrete five-a-side court below his flat to which he still returns when he is home. “Those courts were always full, but that’s being lost a bit with mobiles, PlayStations and stuff. It’s a pity. I grew up on that, spent my childhood there. I remember those moments, you wished they could go on for ever.”
Perhaps, in some small way, they can. “There are games you really enjoy [as a professional] too. When I’m attacking I try to play like I always have. The first half against West Ham, for example, or the first half against Manchester United … at times like that you’re just out there, playing football. It’s a pleasure to play alongside David Silva, Sergio Agüero or Raheem Sterling, lovely to have a squad that good.”
Silva has made the greatest impact. “At times it might seem almost like he’s not there, but he always is. The way that he plays, the talent he has, he could play in any team.” Even Barcelona? “Yes, easily,” Nolito says.
So, eventually, could he; thanks not least to Luis Enrique. “He put his faith in me and he could have ended up taking me back,” he admits. Instead, aged 30, Nolito goes back as an opponent, a decade almost to the day since his golito.
Comments (…)
Sign in or create your Guardian account to join the discussion