They were waiting for them and they appeared, demonstrating once again their usual ultra paraphernalia to dismiss the one they still consider their only and legitimate president: Josep Lluís Núñez Clemente. They were expected because they are still there, ready to poke their heads at the slightest carelessness, as happened in the previous one of the last Classic played in Barcelona or in the visit to Vallecas last November 3. And they were expected, too, because they are specialists in appropriating any collective feeling, even the pain, as they did in their day after the death of Tito Vilanova. "Thirty of Boixos Nois who in the morning brought a crown to the stadium also respected this space of solemnity and prayed while some applauded them. For Tito, "wrote a well-known Catalan journalist that day. The article, for the greater glory of the ultras, was titled The other great family of Tito Vilanova.
With Nuñez at the head of the club, the Boixos Nois became the masters and lords of a Camp Nou that ran at their whim, a kind of praetorian guard with license to intimidate and do business under the protection of colors represented, at that time, by the president and his board of directors. Such was the collusion between leaders and ultras that in 1997 came to be observed a minute of silence in the stadium by the death of Sergi Soto, a known neo-Nazi with a broad criminal record, killed a few days earlier by an overdose. So that no one harbored any doubt of his power, that same day they would cross more than 100 Boixos Nois stadium to violently attack the members of Sang Culé. Two days after the incident, the members of the animation group most critical of the directive announced its dissolution, a resounding and dissuasive message for all the dissidents who frequented the field: they sent Núñez, los Boixos and, above all, fear.
Over the years, and until the announcement of his death this week, the most steely and unpleasant image of Núñez was dissolving like sugar in water thanks to the parodies and imitations of his figure in various radio and television programs. As often happens in these cases, the character ended up devouring the person and little by little we became accustomed to perceiving him as an almost endearing old man, eternally worried about money, his dogs and with a tendency to tear easily. It is not surprising, then, that when journalist Enrique García Corredera recounted in NAC-1 the attempt of Núñez to negotiate a reduction in the price of the ransom with the kidnappers of Quini, Jordi Basté will immediately remember one of his most famous imitations . "It seems like a scene from Crackòvia, you", the announcer of Horta-Guinardó was amazed by the direct.
And probably that is the best tribute of collective memory that can be offered to the late Josep Lluís Núñez: that of the friendly caricature, that of the whitest humor. The other, the one that connects directly with the crudest reality of his mandate, was offered this Tuesday by the same Boixos Nois who recorded themselves attacking the police in the company of his photo, the same one that they exhibited in the memorial organized by the club under a blanket of flares. Not even he, who spoiled them and consented to the extreme, deserves no one to point them out as the other great family of the former president.