Napoleon Bonaparte, the French Emperor who wanted to rule the world, is credited with the verdict that “I’d rather have a lucky General than a good one.” In which case, I wonder what he’d have made of FC Barcelona President Joan Laporta.
Sunday’s Supercup Final thrashing of Real Madrid came bang on time to celebrate the fourth anniversary of Laporta officially earning a second stint in charge of the club he left in 2010 — nice timing. And as any lucky General would have it, the trophy lift in front of Barcelona’s dejected, humiliated rivals also came at a time when Laporta’s critics had been circling, reportedly with the will to launch a vote of no confidence.
Still better timing, right? But that’s not where the story of luck ends for this 62-year-old lawyer who I think can easily be described as a rascal and a rogue. However you feel about him and his club, you would be wise never to underestimate them.
When Laporta first took charge 21 years ago, in a searing, white-heat charge of revolution, invigoration and rebel spirit, he inspected the club’s world-famous youth academy and discovered, to his joy, that he’d inherited a young Lionel Messi. Josep Minguella, the agent who brought Romario, Maradona and Messi to FC Barcelona, once said: “I believe Leo comes from a marvelous planet — the one where exceptional people like violinists, architects and doctors are created — the chosen people.”
Given that Barcelona’s finances were a mess and they were in the midst of what would be six years without a trophy of any kind — these days, it’s judged to be an end-of-times crisis if they suffer 12 months without lifting something — stumbling upon a junior recruit who’d go on to become the greatest footballer ever, and win 34 trophies wearing Blaugrana colours, could be categorised as the biggest stroke of luck any General could wish for.
Time to thank your lucky stars and accept that you’ve had more than your share of good fortune? Not for President Joan — the man known as “Jan” to his amigos.
All who would attack him need to accept that Laporta is something of an Artful Dodger bursting with love for the Catalan club, packed full of personal ego and ambition, crafty, aggressive, ruthless and streetwise. Somehow, he keeps walking straight into the face of the tempest and, though bruised, come out the other side! It’s one way to look at his latest Camp Nou mandate as club president, which is helping keep the storied club going.
A little over a year after returning to power via the March 2021 elections after a long hiatus away from the Camp Nou, Laporta watched Barcelona’s legendary player-turned-manager Xavi Hernandez give a debut to 15-year-old Lamine Yamal. How on earth this club have rediscovered the route to that hallowed planet, and raided its natural resources for a second time to extract Lamine Yamal, heaven only knows. But they have.
In that debut moment, Laporta can’t have known what was about to erupt, but Corporal Lamine’s scintillating display against Madrid to help Hansi Flick win his first trophy since taking charge — coincidentally, it was the 17-year-old’s second goal in a Clásico, something he’s achieved quicker than Messi and more quickly than Cristiano Ronaldo, who took eight matches and three years(!) to do so — underlined that the lucky General is still unearthing four-leaf clovers.
During the on-pitch celebrations in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, and once the medal ceremony was completed — Madrid dutifully stood, suffering, and waited until the trophy lift before departing — Laporta placed himself front and centre, where the captain or the coach should be. On Monday, Spain’s media were full of images of him with bulging eyes and joyful face, perspiring in the evening heat, trophy clutched to him while surrounded by the guys who’d actually been out doing hand-to-hand combat with the Spanish and European champions.
Laporta has silverware in his hands, the sense of triumph is palpable, his players faces are bathed in that post-jouissance ecstasy. The battle is won and the war may be turning their way — everything looks right with their world. But as ever with Laporta, please don’t judge the book by the cover.
A few days earlier, it had looked like all the verbal promises he’d been making to Dani Olmo and Pau VÃctor weren’t worth the paper they were written on, to paraphrase Hollywood mogul Sam Goldwyn: given that Barcelona were in violation of LaLiga’s Financial Fair Play rules, the two players were de-registered by the league and faced six months, on full pay, sitting on the sidelines unable to play. That is until Laporta persuaded the Spanish Government to intervene, having already failed on multiple occasions to convince LaLiga to do so.
This tricky, rascally individual is the Laporta I’d like to remind you of.
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Laporta: Barcelona must defend attacks from ‘outside and inside’ the club
Barcelona president Joan Laporta defends Barcelona after their recent registration controversy with Dani Olmo and Pau Victor.
Stories of his youthful misadventures are legion. My book about Barca’s most remarkable era chronicles how Laporta was educated at a priests’ college, but expelled when, as a calculated protest against a harsh physics teacher, young Laporta pinched some test answers and shared them with the rest of his class.
When he was young, Spain still enforced military service. (Perhaps the “lucky General” thing started all the way back then?) So when it was his turn, Laporta was duly punished with military jail for, in order: rebelling against the serving of camel meat; for sneaking off home for a few days’ rest and recuperation; and, worst of all in the army’s view, going absent-without-leave on holiday to Egypt with his girlfriend while fellow soldiers shuffled around at roll-call shouting ‘Present!’ when Laporta’s name was called.
Once Laporta became a young lawyer he, remarkably enough, began to represent his hero, Dutch and Barça legend Johan Cruyff, and was so infuriated when the great man was sacked by Barça that he began a seven-year campaign to seize power, a journey that culminated in 2003 when he swept those Presidential elections by a landslide. As has often been the case with Laporta, sleight of hand was involved.
Laporta’s campaign was failing to garner the necessary votes until he used friends and influence to announce, with Manchester United’s confirmation, that he’d
agreed a fee to sign David Beckham if, and when, he was announced as President in those impending elections. The fact was that United had previously agreed the same price with Madrid and the player had unequivocally decided to join the Galactico revolution weeks earlier. Nevertheless: the voters believed, they were distracted by the smoke and mirrors, and they elected their lucky General for the first time.
The rest of the story is a blizzard of set-backs, rows, votes of no-confidence and copious trophies. There’s Laporta dropping his trousers in insolent anger at the Guardia Civil cops’ insistence that he was trying to smuggle something through Barcelona airport security in 2005. There was his unpopular support for the ill-fated and Florentino Perez-designed “Super League,” or wanting to renew Frank Rijkaard’s contract in 2008 when the Dutchman’s grip on the team had been torn to shreds, only for then-Director of Football, Txiki Begiristain to persuade Laporta to appoint the young Pep Guardiola. (The eight board members who stepped down in 2008, following an emergency meeting and vote of no-confidence, merely set a trend that’s continued into Laporta’s latest regime.) There have been court cases, and the heinous act of pushing Messi out of the club against his will: in short, there’s a Laporta anecdote for every single facet of the football world, from good, bad and ugly to funny, triumphant and downright outrageous.
When Laporta’s re-election campaign was in full swing four years ago, he paid for a gigantic poster up the entire side of a Madrid skyscraper within full sight of the Bernabéu stadium. “Can’t wait to see you again!” was the slogan, beside an jaw-jutting, gently air-brushed head-and-shoulders image of Laporta. It was a declaration of war … and the voters loved it.
Along the way, Laporta and his Catalan army have lost skirmishes and at times have looked very much like losing the campaign. But, and now I’m pretty sure Napoleon would have approved, his luck has suddenly come good again, meaning that we onlookers daren’t avert our gaze as the battle for LaLiga, La Copa and the Champions League recommence. Write them off at your peril.
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