Google
Web realmadrid-news.blogspot.com
www.realmadrid.com www.as.com

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

DIARRA EXCLUSIVE: The midfielder looks back on his past and praises his teammates and the Bernabéu

Realmadrid.com and RealmadridTV conducted a joint in-depth interview with Mahamadou Diarra, whom they accompanied to his native country of Mali for the space of eight days. Once in Spain, the Club media decided to speak to the number ‘6’ of the Whites and look back and contrast the different experiences lived on African soil with those as a Real Madrid player, his experience in the Spanish League, his opinion on the Santiago Bernabéu Stadium and, above all, insight into the significance of what goes on inside the dressing room through his own eyes. The interview was held inside the dressing room and on the turf of an empty Bernabéu. It was the first time the Mali native had been interviewed inside the Stadium, an event that filled him with excitement.



THE DRESSING ROOM

How do the players sit inside the dressing room?
By shirt number. I'm number 6, so my locker is between number 5, Fabio Cannavaro's, and number 7, Raúl's. But sometimes Ruud Van Nistelrooy comes over, or David Beckham perhaps... Or sometimes I'll go over to them to talk about the game. Other players do the same. It's what makes a team.

How early do you get to the stadium on matchdays and what exactly goes on?
We get here one and a half hours before the match. Ninety minutes gives us enough time to focus on the game. Sometimes we get here earlier if it's a Cup match or another competition. It's the most important time; more important than kick-off even. It's when you really think about the match; about what you need to do and what you need to avoid doing. We analyse the opponent and motivate one another to do our best on the turf.

What do the players do during that time?
Some players get massages. Others, like me, see the physiotherapists to get taped up. Some listen to music, while others sit in their corner, next to their shirt, to concentrate on the match.


We know that you tend to be very serious and focused before matches.
Yes, that's just me. It's how I always am before a game: stressed out. It's how I should be; nervous and scared. It's how I focus. I go over to a corner all by myself to think about the game, to think about how it might unfold, and I prepare myself for everything that might happen on the pitch. But, like I said, I mostly think about giving it my all and not letting anybody down. That's how I feel before a game.

And what happens in the final minutes leading up to kick-off?
Well, we yell a victory chant and something about Real Madrid. It's essential to this team. It gives us strength before taking the pitch. It's the last group action before a match. I don't understand all the chants, but I know they're for the good of the team, for motivation, and to bring out our team spirit.

Who takes part?
Everyone. The 20 to 22 players who have been called up. I love it because it proves we have team spirit and it reflects the strength of this group.

Describe what one of these team huddles is like.
Everyone brings it in and we each put one arm forward and place our hand on top of Raúl's. Then we yell something. Sometimes I feel like laughing, but I hold it in. It's great, even if I don't say anything.

What role do the dressing room leaders have?
There are a number of leaders, as there would be on any team. They say what needs to be said. Normally, everyone says something in the five minutes leading up to the game. You point something out to your teammates, whether it's about a training session or about the previous week's match, in order to correct mistakes. And someone does the same with you. They are words of encouragement. But most importantly, not everything has to be said in the dressing room. The pitch is where you really need to talk.

Who are the leaders and what do they say?
Many players speak: Raúl, Íker Casillas, Salgado. Guti has less to say and gets straight to the point. He always says exactly what needs to be said. Beckham sometimes says some words. Ruud doesn't have much to say, but I love his way of being. As I stated earlier, everyone says what he has to say. But it all has to carry over to the pitch, which is exactly what is happening now.


THE BERNABÉU

What are your thoughts on the Santiago Bernabéu?
It's the first time I've seen it empty like this. It's like being stuck inside a calabasa –traditional percussion instrument of Mali-. Well, I also saw it last season when I came to play against Madrid with Lyon in the Champions League. I spent 10 minutes just walking around and looking at it. I then went to sit in the dugout and I realised how comfortable the seats were. You're sitting there all curled up and comfortable... you can really get used to it. Anyway, it's a stadium I hold in great esteem. It's gorgeous, absolutely brilliant.

What's it like playing in the middle of the field?
Playing as a midfielder means that you are surrounded by a lot of people. As is commonly said in football, you have to see before receiving when in the centre of the pitch. It's where most players gather and, therefore, it's where you have to apply tactics on the pitch. You have to have great vision for the game. You're in the heart of it all here. It's the centre-point of the stadium. It's like being in the middle of 22 actors. The team suffers if you don't have a good day.

What does coming out of the p'layers' tunnel feel like?
You can't hear a thing when you step out of the tunnel and the entire stadium is yelling. If a player is 10 to 15 metres away you have to communicate with gestures. To the left... back up... to the right... Let's say I'm 15 metres away from you and there are 80,000 fans yelling their hearts our. You can't sit there trying to hear what a teammate is saying because the ball is still in play and you have to run after it!

Sergio Ramos whistles. Do you?
No. I don't know how to. I don't like it. I have a low-pitched voice, so I can shout out to someone who is 50 metres away if there isn't much noise. I don't have to whistle because I tend to speak loud anyway.

How is the Bernabéu treating you?
Well. The team wasn't doing that well during the first four or five months of competition. We admit it. Of course this crowd is used to seeing spectacular football, lots of technique, dribblings, beautiful goals... We weren't playing at that level and the public grew impatient. But they are truly behind us now. The fans have become the 12th man. They push us to give our very best. We need them. We are really motivated to play here now.

MAHAMADOU AND FOOTBALL

In Mali you are known as Djilla. Where does the nickname come from?
It was given to me by one of my older brothers who sadly passed away a year and a half ago. He was a friend of a former Malian player named Mohamed Djilla. I share his name, Mahamadou, and they said I played like him as well. When I was starting to become recognised in the streets of Bamako, he was reaping success with the national team and Malian clubs. Everyone named Mahamadou wanted to follow in his footsteps; he was their idol. That's how I became Djilla. Additionally, my family calls me Mohamed, which I am very fond of, and sometimes Djilla as well.

How did you relationship with CSK Bamako, your first team, begin?
There weren't many football academies when I was a kid and not everyone had the means to sign up. They used to pay us. They started by paying me 1000 CFA francs –the equivalent of 1.5€– per month, which seems like very little but it actually was a lot for a 14-year old in Africa then. I went because I had a childhood friend who played for the Centre Salif Keita, or CSK. His father was a director and I told him I wanted to join. The father then spoke to the coach and Salif. I remember my test was on a Saturday morning. Everything went flawlessly and they picked me. I was very focused on studying then and my father insisted on the advantages of having an education. I also got good grades. That's why he didn't understand why I wanted to spend so much time playing football. You couldn't earn a living as a footballer back then. We were in Africa, football wasn't as popular, and young players found it hard to prove themselves. I combined school and football for four years; from 13 years old to 17. I became champion of Mali in the Under-15 and Under-17 leagues. I also played with the Under-15 and Under-17 Malian national teams. I played against Casillas two straight years. I clearly remember missing a one-on-one I had with him. Spain knocked us out of the Under-17 World Cup. When I look back on everything I have gone through until now, I realise all the hard work, discipline, and desire I put into it. I had a rough beginning. Finding a pair of boots was a huge challenge. And let's not talk about transportation to training sessions. Furthermore, we had to pay the football academy. It reached a point where my parents were rwally fed up.

Did the truly elite competition for you only begin when you started playing in the Champions League?
I discovered the Champions League while playing for Olympique Lyonnais. But I learned a lot in the streets of Mali, as does every African player. There were no real sports academies in my day like there are now. We learned in the streets. You stopped playing whenever you wanted to. It's the best football school there is. Kids were left to play in the streets until whatever time tey wanted. I learned a lot in Mali. Then I went to Greece for one year, and then to the Netherlands, where I played for three seasons. I played three UEFA Cup matches with Vitesse Arnhem. That was my first contact with the elite European competition. I played more than 20 Champions League matches over four years with Lyon. But Spain is different. To be honest, the French Ligue 1 isn't at the same level as the Spanish League, which is superior. You could say that Champions League matches are at the same level as any La Liga match. I love this Championship and wanted to play here since I was small. So I guess dreams can come true. It's up to me to make sure I continue to play here.

Interview by Luis Orueta
Photos by Ángel Martínez & Luis Orueta

Translation by Matthew Goltz

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home