Sangria and the City II: Water, Water Every Where

Younger Turia players supporting the men’s first team (Image credits to author)

The Home of the Holy Grail, the Cradle of Paella, the City of Cyclists. Mary Brown documents her Year Abroad in Valencia in this column, exploring both the haute culture and slightly sillier offerings of the city.

From Rafael Nadal’s unrivalled dominance of the clay court in the Open Era to a record four Euro titles for the men’s national football team, Spain is no stranger to sporting greatness. However, as part of my Year Abroad, I have the opportunity to explore Spain’s sporting heritage on a more local level. When my friend Callum invited us to watch the Club Deportivo Waterpolo Turia (Turia Water Polo Club) match one Saturday afternoon, I figured this would be a great chance to learn more about one of Spain’s sporting obsessions: water polo.

Originally called ‘football-in-the-water’, the sport’s catchier name stems from an earlier version in which players rode barrels in the water (painted to look like horses) and struck the ball with sticks, similar to its equestrian cousin. The origins of the sport are not wholly clear, but it begun as both a recreational activity and a form of exercise and physical conditioning in England and Scotland. It was even used by the British military to improve soldiers’ swimming prowess and overall stamina.

 We headed over to the match, which took place in a leisure centre in Nazaret, Valencia. I was unsure of what to expect of this semi-professional team or the set-up, as I had no experience of watching aquatic sports. Turia’s opponents were Club Natació Premià, hailing from Barcelona. The stands were full of spectators, including the younger Turia players in full kit. One of these youngsters had been entrusted with a huge marching band-esque drum which he beat relentlessly to get the audience going. Despite the relatively small crowd (it numbered roughly 50 people), the atmosphere was electric and there was genuine excitement and buzz among the spectators for the match ahead.

Scores all level after the first quarter (Image credits to author)

My only previous encounter with water polo had been in GCSE History. We were studying the Cold War and approaching the Christmas break when my teacher put on the documentary Freedom’s Fury. It interviews those connected with the notorious ‘Blood in the Water’ match at the 1956 Melbourne Olympics. It was a semi-final meeting between Hungary and the USSR, two of the best water polo teams in the world at the time. However, due to the political context of the match, it was never going to be merely a sporting spectacle.

The Olympics that year took place against the backdrop of the failed Hungarian Revolution, which was brutally suppressed by Russia just weeks prior with little international response due to the concurrent Suez Crisis. As the documentary’s filmmaker Colin Gray noted: ‘It was students and factory workers with Molotov cocktails against tank columns and war planes’. In total, there were more than 20,000 Hungarian casualties. The match therefore gave the Hungarians a golden opportunity to meet the Russians on a level playing field under the glare of the international spotlight.

Whilst water polo is always physical and aggressive in competitive matches, the violence on 6th December 1956 was exceptional in how vicious and personal it was. For example, the Hungarian captain Dezső Gyarmati broke his Russian counterpart’s nose and Russian player Valentin Prokopov ruptured a Hungarian’s eardrum. Despite many examples of violence throughout, the seminal moment came in the game’s dying minutes.

Ervin Zádor was tasked with guarding Prokopov and immediately began verbally provoking him with insults aimed at the Russian’s mother. Prokopov then reared back and punched Zádor in the face. As he emerged from the water, blood was pouring from Zádor’s eyebrow, leading to the iconic image of him surrounded by livid Hungarian officials and fans. The match had to be ended immediately by Australian police as spectators threatened to riot and surged forwards, spitting and hurling abuse at the Russian contingent.

Ervin Zádor poolside, flanked by incensed Hungarians. (Photo credit: Jack Garofalo/Paris Match via Getty Images)

Fortunately, on the 23rd November 2024 in Valencia, no such scenes came to pass. Nevertheless, I saw in person just how physically demanding and rough the sport can be. Spectators hurled abuse at the referees for what they perceived to be biased calls. I have seen similar displays of emotion at Everton’s Premier League matches, yet there is a difference between being 100 metres or 1 metre away from the official in question. In the end, Turia won 10-9 in a tight and exciting match.

 I thoroughly enjoyed my first water polo match: it is a dynamic and fast-moving sport which is easy to understand and follow. However, I left most impressed by the physical prowess of the men, namely the combination of their agility in the water and the strength in their throws and tussles with one another. They were true athletes and their ability to go from floating in the pool to several feet in the air never failed to amaze me, along with their incredible tactical insight. In the future, water polo will remind me of the dizzying heights of human physical ability and the deeper personal and political resonance that sport can have.

The game makes use of the full width and length of the pool, leading to most players swimming over 1.5 miles during a single 32 minute game (Image credits to author)