I get it now. I get why I support Rayo. Watching the game against Gimnàstic, I realized why my heart belongs to a working-class district in Madrid I've never been to, to a club that smears its own fans and a side that should be competing against Barcelona and Real Madrid but instead plays Reus Deportiu and Mirandés*. It wasn't the 2-0 win. Or the incessant wave of attack after attack. Or the intricate passing patterns breaking down a resolute defense. It wasn't Roberto Trashorras, who had one of his best games in a Rayo shirt and created chance after chance. Or Ernesto Galán, who kept Nàstic's entire left side silent. Or Adrián Embarba, who exposed right back Gerard Valentín's foraying runs forward** with pace and trickery. Or Fran Beltrán, who defended with heart and attacked with skill. Or Antonio Amaya, who calmly kept and distributed the ball. Or even Míchel and his calm demeanor. It's because there is a fight that Rayo fans are fighting and they...