I have to admit that sometimes I thank God I can watch certain matches in the comfort of my sitting room. This is not because I am a couch potato by nature, or that Madrid is cold and wet at this time of year (as is Bar & Co, the boat on the Thames where I sometimes gather with fellow cules) , but because sometimes TV gives you a perspective on a match which you simply cannot capture sitting or standing in the cheapest seat you can get in the stadium, or with your thoughts distracted by too many journalistic colleagues, typing to deadline.
Last night was one such occasion. Full marks and possibly a medal should go to the TV director who made sure that at several moments in the Real-Madrid-FC Barcelona match I had the benefit of an aerial view of the Bernabeu stadium and the play within. From that angle, several metaphors came to mind, as Barca systematically came back from 0-1 down and confirmed themselves as the superior team.
I know this is not the first time you will read choreography or ballet or poetry in motion as a description of the intricate movement of Pep Guardiola’s boys- but this was the equivalent of a good night at Sadler’s Wells, watched from the Gods. Lest I be accused of being one-sided, there were elements too of a chess game, with move and counter move reflecting the idiosyncracy and ambition of two of world football’s great tacticians. But the overriding image was one of a fresh mountain stream manoeuvring its way through rugged terrain.
This was a Real Madrid that after Ronaldo’s brilliant run and executed first goal, retreated behind its lines, thereafter resorting to hostile defensive tactics and occasional forays by its special operations corps. Mourinho’s campaign of brutal attrition was personified –yet again- by his leading thug Pepe who, no doubt elevated to hero status by some elements of the Ultra Surs, pushed, and hacked, and trampled his way through the game.
By contrast Barca showed that its genius lies in its disciplined and imaginative collective-the way that all the players patiently involve themselves in the build up play, and how , when it comes to creating goals, each player’s level is raised thanks to the inspiration and support of one player in particular. To watch Abidal pick up on Messi’s beautifully timed lob, and hit it home past Casillas, was to a get a sense of the beauty –and effectiveness- in solidarity. It also showed Barca’s wonderful ability to surprise us just when you thought their game was becoming predictable.
Typical of the spirit, endeavour, and talent of this very special Barca team is Alexis Sanchez –for me, the man of the match last night- who with his extraordinary energy, speed, and resourcefulness across the breadth and depth of the pitch, is proving one of the most astute signings of the Guardiola era. Happy Birthday Pep!
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