Paul Bryan witnesses Zinedine Zidane's final appearance at the Santiago Bernabéu.

"I feel that this is what I have to do. I've been thinking about it for some time now. It's been three years since we've won something and for the past two years I haven't been playing to the standards I expect of myself. I have always played to win, and when you feel that you can't do that anymore, you have to be realistic." - Zinedine Zidane.
 
In the centre pages of the glossy magazine handed out to all who enter Real Madrid's Santiago Bernabéu stadium on matchdays, there is a huge image of Zinedine Zidane, poised, his left foot tilted and his right arm outstretched for balance.

The ball, about to receive the full force of the number five's left boot, is frozen in mid-flight at shoulder height. As the fans pay tribute to 'Zizou' while he jogs onto the field of play for his last game in the Spanish capital, they each hold aloft this photograph entitled, "El Mago de Hampden," (the magician of Hampden Park). For many, it was Zidane's finest moment in a white shirt. The 2002 Champions League final against Bayer Leverkusen in which the former World Player of the Year struck a volleyed goal of such immense quality that all of those who saw it were left flabbergasted. It was the goal that won "los  merengues" their ninth European Cup.
 
The 80,000 spectators inside this monstrous arena are loving these moments. After another dismal season without any titles it now suddenly feels like there is something to celebrate. Music thunders out from the stadium's speakers as slow-motion footage of the man they often refer to as "Dios" (God) beam out from the giant screens at either end of the ground.

There are just seconds to go before kick-off and every eye is looking down on Zinedine Zidane. The players, in their respective match positions, are gazing at him while applauding respectfully.

Zidane seems mortified by all of this.

He is desperately trying to ignore the attention by warming up, stretching, jogging from side-to-side, bending forward to touch his toes. Finally, the referee blows the whistle and Madrid's number five can finally look up as he goes in search of the ball. Strangely, the mini-movie and the music continue as the producers of this elaborate show get their timing all wrong. With the music reaching its climax, Zidane accepts a pass, his first touch of the game, and the roars around the famous ground are akin to those reserved for when the men in white score a goal.
 
As much as they would like Real's opponents to play along and enjoy the atmosphere inside the ground, as if it were some kind of testimonial game, it's just not going to happen.

Champions League semi-finalists Villarreal are here to win, to beat a team that has been riddled with a deteriorating disease for the past few years. And so, with the likes of Diego Forlán and Juan Román Riquelme playing like talented, over enthusiastic children in a schoolground, the party has finished before the half-time whistle with Real 2-1 down. Normal service has been resumed and the home players, including the great Zidane, are whistled from the park.

Thus has been life for the football fan here on the white side of the city of Madrid.
 
The time is approaching twenty-past eight on this warm Sunday evening. The playing surface at the Santiago Bernabéu is sublime and as the sun begins to sink behind the recently renovated west stand so the white shirts of the home team light up underneath the strength of the floodlights beaming down upon them.
 
Zinedine Zidane takes possession of the ball just inside the left channel in an advanced position. Appearing slightly awkward facing the yellow shirted defenders of Villarreal the French World Cup winner begins slouching forward like a giraffe on the run. Then, flashing past him, he sees his teammate, Roberto Carlos, zip into the penalty area. Zidane's reactions are alert as always yet his touch lacks authority and his pass fails to reach its intended destination.

The attack is over. Unperturbed, and with his eyes gazing downward, the machine-like Roberto Carlos turns and races back down the touchline: all in a day's work. Yet the Frenchman he passes remains in the exact same spot from where he had last kicked the ball, looking forward, thinking. He clasps either side of his head with his hands before joining his fingers over the top of his shaved crown, failing to comprehend how his touch has failed him. Cruel.
 
The match is pressing onwards and Villarreal should be a couple of goals up. They are enjoying themselves and look brilliantly incisive on the counter-attack. David Beckham hits what seems to be his 150th cross of the game. It's looping from right to left and it is clear the ball will miss the last defender. Zidane is there, watching, concentrating, gripping the soft turf with his boots. He heads the ball delicately back across the face of the goal. The stadium erupts before his effort bounces slowly in at the far post. He's done it. 'Zizou, Zizou, Zizou.' 80,000 people shouting that nickname in quick succession creates a strange sound, as if there is some sort of odd and ancient sacrificing ritual taking place.
 
Villarreal continue to torment and take the lead again before Baptista bags his second of the match to rescue a point. All in all it has been a tremendous game. Goals, skill, a red card, a penalty, touchline antics from both managers, a full house, an incredible atmosphere and a fine tribute to one of the world's greatest ever football players, Zinedine Zidane. Then, just as it seems he will take no part in this, his farewell to the Santiago Bernabéu, the Magician of Hampden Park emerges, a jersey clasped in either hand, one yellow, one white. He walks to the centre of the pitch and begins to cry as players and fans stand in unison, applauding this giant of world football. Zidane lifts the white shirt up to his face and wipes away the tears as his teammates embrace him.
 
"I'm sure I will miss it, but this is another part of what being a football player is. I've spoken with Real Madrid about continuing to work with the club in a special programme for children. I want to give children something of what football has given to me. I think I have a lot to teach them." - Zinedine Zidane.