The Spaniards at the cafe watch Villa & Co. Picture by Rashbehari Das

Time: Minutes before midnight

Place: Taberna Vasca or spanish café, not in Barcelona or Madrid but on Sudder Street in the heart of Calcutta

Most of the 50-odd Spaniards who have assembled stand up as the opening bars of their national anthem are played at Ellis Park stadium in Johannesburg. The mood is festive as the young men and women settle down again in front of a projection screen with their sip and bite and the 11 players representing them in the biggest football tournament go into a huddle a continent away.

There’s a buzz in the room. “We will win. Some of us have placed bets on how many goals we will score,” says 20-year-old Nacho Miró, in a red T-shirt blending in with the many wearing Spanish jerseys in the room.

One of his companions, a pretty girl in harem pants and vest, calls out: “4-1, we will defeat them by 4-1.” Another predicts a 3-1 victory. The room goes silent as Paraguay kick off the World Cup quarterfinal.

The intermittent quick exchanges in Spanish become a chorus and arms and legs are flailed around in anxiety or anticipation as the ball nears either goal. Cries of “vamos” (let’s go) become more and more frequent with the Spanish armada struggling to break down the Paraguayan defence.

After yet another promising attack fizzles out near the Paraguayan penalty box, there are loud sighs and quite a few bury their heads in their arms. No stiff upper lip here. The Spanish are animated.

Frustration soon turns to anger. When Fernando Torres takes the ball, one girl snarls and snaps her fingers, a hard glint in her eyes. “We don’t like him. He always lets us down,” explains the young woman. Cigarettes are lit and impatient murmurs start.

“We’ll definitely win. But yes, it’s taking time. We are getting a little restless,” says Miró, as the players head indoors at half-time with honours even.

“We are the reigning European champions but have never won the World Cup. Every time, we get defeated in the quarterfinals. We are cursed,” he adds moodily. “There is a lot of hope from this team. Usually people in Spain do not follow national football so much. Everyone has a favourite club and follow it. But this team has won Euro 2008.”

The student from Spain, who reached Calcutta recently to work as a volunteer for the Missionaries of Charity, was, however, quite taken by the atmosphere at Raj’s Spanish Café. “I was wondering whether I would be able to watch the game. But this feels like home. The atmosphere in Spain will be similar,” he says as the game starts again.

The worst Spanish fears seem set to come true when Paraguay get a penalty in the middle of the second half but Iker Casillas comes to the rescue. Jubilant cries and hugs are exchanged. A few supporters go into a huddle and jump up and down. Some break into a dance.

Their hearts are broken within seconds when Spain gets a penalty and misses. However, they don’t have to wait much longer for a goal. As David Villa pushes the ball into the net, the room erupts in celebration. Someone starts singing the national anthem and others join in.

The strike breathes life into the Spaniards. Perched on the edge of their chairs, they root for a second goal. Lips purse in silent prayer as the three minutes of injury time start — nothing should go wrong now.

The long whistle from the referee is greeted with whoops of joy, hugs and handshakes. Some bring out and start waving the national flag. It’s time for a tryst with Germany.