This match, a match that ultimately wasn’t a whole lot of fun to watch, really, is why I kept saying that the worry shouldn’t be there, that the comparisons to the Rijkaard era were invalid, that this was a club that just glitched a couple of times and merely needs to regain timing and most importantly, focus.
Osasuna came into the Camp Nou with a Liga record identical to ours, at a win and a draw. They left the victims of a club that had something to prove to itself, a club that looked in the mirror and was determined not to have any letdowns, any flaws in concentration or lack of interest. The result was about as uncompetitive a match as you are probably going to see in La Liga this season. Continue Reading
Every match comes down to a key moment, and for me, this picture illustrates that moment as eloquently as any verbiage. Because in the 30th minute, when Alexis Sanchez was hacked down by a tackle that deserved at least a yellow and instead got nothing, the match changed for the worse for us.
It wasn’t even that David Villa entered, making the left side a place where attacks went to die. It was that the most positive player on the pitch was gone, and the malaise seemed to creep about like a particularly virulent infection. The players became aimless. Nobody seemed to know what to do with the ball, or where to go when they had it. Was some of it the pressure that a brave, tireless Real Sociedad put on us? Absolutely. Witness their players collapsing after the final whistle. They played their hearts out for a draw that they justly earned, so put any talk of gifts out of your minds, as this draw could easily have been a loss, courtesy of two late set pieces.
And we go into week 3 of the Liga actually better off than we were at this same time last season. How ’bout that? So everybody, calm down. Continue Reading
The big news is that Puyol has been cleared by the medical team and is on the bench. Guardiola doesn’t like being upstaged, so he has rolled out an interesting lineup:
Valdes – Alves Busquets Fontas Adriano – Xavi Keita Thiago – Pedro Fabregas Sanchez
Bench: Pinto, Puyol, Mascherano, Abidal, Iniesta, Messi, Villa
Join me a couple of minutes before the game, which is at 12:00 pm EST.
He wasn’t going to make it, they said. As much as we’d love him to, as proud as we’d be if he overcame the odds, he just wasn’t good enough.
Sitting in a bar, or cafe, or even in the living room, the main talking point during the summer transfer window always remained the same: the team needed another goalkeeper.
“His feet are too shaky!” one exclaimed to their seat neighbour. “s’like he’s got lead in his boots. Or bugs down his pants…”
“He always gets beaten at his near post. It’s so irritating!” another griped. “And he can’t command his area to save his life!”
“Our team would be unbeatable if we had a world class goalkeeper.”
The rest could only sigh and nod their heads, raising their glasses in a general sign of agreement. The ‘here, here!’ went without saying.
Victor Valdes simply wasn’t good enough to be first team goalkeeper at FC Barcelona.
The team was incredible upfront — a Ronaldinho in his prime, Samuel Eto’o scoring goals like a madman, and the impish Ludovic Giuly bombing down the flanks; not to mention a shaggy haired wonderboy coming through the ranks, one Leo Messi — the midfield contained the mercurial Deco, the cerebral dictator Xavi, hardman (ahem) Mark van Bommel; and yet another golden boy ready to replace anyone if need, the one who was going to retire both Xavi and Pep: Andres Iniesta. Carles Puyol and Rafael Marquez had a strong accord, with the Brazilian Juliano Belletti at right back and Dutch left back Giovanni von Bronckhorst completing the defense. Good lineup all the way around, if they would say so themselves. They could just pretend Oleguer didn’t exist.
Goalkeeper? Oh. Right. Well… He came from the youth teams. He’s young. He’s Catalan.
…And he’s not very good.
That was the general consensus.
Real Madrid had Iker Casillas come through their ranks, so naturally cules wanted a rebuttle, a counter argument; someone they could serve up as example that was just as good. W-well, we have an amazing goalkeeper from our youth teams too!
Like fine wine, they believed, he’ll get better with time.
Or rather, they hoped.
Sometimes, they weren’t so sure. Even when he won the Zamora trophy at the end of the 2003/2004 La Liga season, some felt it was due to the defense in front of him. After all, a goalkeeper is only as good as his defense. And their defense was amazing.
It wasn’t hard to poke logic sized holes into that reasoning.
However, through the doubts, through the harsh, unforgiving criticism from media and fans, through the pressure of being the last man between victory, stalemate, and failure, he persevered. More sit ups, more push ups, more chin-ups, more everything. He was going to prove them wrong, he was going to make himself better. Faster. Stronger.
And he was going to make it.
So when May 17, 2006 arrived, the long anticipated Champions League Final between Arsenal and Barcelona, it might as well have been D-Day. The Gunners were coming into the final with a record number of clean sheets, the Boy Who Left was starting in the midfield, and most terrifying of all*: one Thierry Henry upfront. Ready and firing.
Just make sure the ball doesn’t get near Valdes and we got this. If the team followed that simple rule, the CL trophy would be going back to Barcelona.
A minute in, and Thierry Henry was through on goal, had only Valdes to beat. Cules feared the worst. They covered their eyes. Damn, we’re 1-0 down. Already!
Except they weren’t. Valdes stopped him from point-blank range.
Wait… wut?
In case some people didn’t see it the first time, Valdes then stopped Henry again. From point-blank range. Again.
Valdes had made two crucial saves within the first three minutes to keep the game scoreless. It started to look up. After 18 minutes, Barcelona were up a man after Arsenal goalkeeper Jens Lehmann was sent off for a foul on Eto’o — until they went down in the score board 19 minutes later, Sol Campbell heading in freekick. 1-0 to the Arsenal at half-time.
Uh oh.
Second half started and after some good chances, Henry was put through on goal by Alexander Hleb. (Note: that was not a typo). Only had Valdes to beat. Again. Surely he would score this time.
He was stopped.
Again.
Then Eto’o scored after a pass from Swedish legend Henrik Larsson, the supersub, and the score was tied 1-1. And then Belletti scored that goal after another pass from that man Larsson. 2-1.
And then Barca won its second CL trophy.
After the game, what did then-coach Frank Rijkaard have to say?
Valdes played a decisive role. He saved us at crucial moments.
And no-one disagreed with him.
Without the final in Paris [in 2006], I wouldn’t play at Barça anymore. That was my key game, my most important night as player
– Victor Valdes, a couple of days ago.
And it was that night that cules realized hey, we might just have a goalkeeper after all…
Fast forward five years, three Zamoras later, and many people are wondering why Victor Valdes can’t get a game for Spain.
“His feet are incredible for a goalkeeper!” one says to their neighbour. “It’s like he’s another outfield player!”
“His reflexes are amazing!” another booms. “Not to mention he almost never gets beaten one-on-one.”
“World class. The guy is world class. Would be starting for any other national team, for sure.”
The rest could only sigh and nod their heads, raising their glasses in a general sign of agreement.
The ‘here, here’ went without saying.
So when Victor Valdes steps onto the pitch at 12pm EST on Saturday, he will overtake former starting goalkeeper and current sporting director Andoni Zubizarreta as the goalkeeper with the most appearances for Barca with 411.
He made it alright. And now he’s making history.
Who woulda thunk it?
His BFF Iniesta
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A tribute by allasFCB2:
We salute you, Victor.
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Carles Puyol, Ibrahim Afellay, Adriano, and Maxwell have all been given the green light. They are in the 20 man squad travelling to Sociedad.
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*You guys don’t know how much I wanted to write:
“[...]and most terrifying of all: Alexander Hleb was starting.”
A serious internal struggle took place. For real.
By the way, whatever happened to Oleguer? Last I heard of him, Ajax was paying for his, uh, services.
Barcelona’s 2010-2011 season has ended, and it has ended gloriously. Like a firework created by Gandalf, lit by Messi, and exploding with the force of 10,000 super suns. Yeah, that’s pretty. So what better way to recap the season than by quoting the single greatest movie of all-time: “Jurassic Park.” For those of you who don’t know, here’s the quick and the first on the film (the book is awesome too, but come on, the movie is SO quotable): British man is wealthy. British man funnels money to dinosaur excavation research. Through inexplicable, yet still seemingly possible, genetic recreation and biological experimentation (read: cloning), dinosaurs are brought back from extinction. British man wants to start dino amusement park. Lawyers (woohoo!) want real paleontologists/scientists to sign off on safety before insuring the park. They come to park. Everyone surprised. Inexplicably, British man allows grandchildren to accompany scientists through park. Tech guy sabotages park. Tropical storm limits leaving island. Defenses down. Goat. T-rex. Tree. Dinosaur sex change. Reset the system. Shit gets real. Awesome early 90s computer hacking sequence. Shit gets realer. Escape. There you have it. And without further adieu, I give you the greatest season recap in 65 million years.
Ian Malcolm: “God creates dinosaurs. God destroys dinosaurs. God creates man. Man destroys God. Man creates dinosaurs.”
Lionel Messi. They always say put your best foot forward, so we start out with the world’s best player, the two-time defending FIFA Ballon d’or winner, and all-around swell messiah. There’s really no point in naming his accolades for the season, but in case you forgot: 55 games played; 53 goals (nearly 1 per game *cartoonishly-large goggly eyes*); 24 assists (77 goals contributed on the season, are you kidding me?); Champion’s League top scorer (3rd consecutive); Champion’s League Final MOTM; 2010-11 DiStefano trophy winner; CdR top goalscorer; medals in La Liga, Champion’s League, and Supercopa de Espana. And lest anyone have delusions of him being lackluster in big games we have: 2 assists in Manita vs. Madrid; goal in 2nd Clasico (his 8th in all Clasicos); 2 goals in CL quarters against Arsenal (2nd leg); 2 goals in first leg of CL semis against Madrid; and the game-winner in the CL Final at Wimbley. godlike.
Robert Muldoon: [seconds before being eaten by a raptor] “Clever girl”
The raptor is Dani Alves, and he’s mighty clever. He is and will be forever trashed by opponents as a diver and a whiner and by some fans as not loyal enough (yes I’m eyeing you, yes you know who you are), but he’s the missing link in the team’s evolutionary chain. The right back who Sid Lowe once presciently called the world’s second best player is a vicious attacking machine who passes well, runs well, moves into space well, tracks back better than he is given credit for, and is a hassle to deal with in defense. Scoring 4 goals and giving 20 assists in all competitions (15 in La Liga, making him 3rd), he is a constant pain to opposing sides and never stops running. He also seems to be the most excited when another teammate scores, which is awesome to watch.
John Hammond: “All major theme parks have delays. When they opened Disneyland in 1956, nothing worked.”
Ian Malcolm: “Yeah, but John, if the Pirates of the Caribbean breaks down, the pirates don’t eat the tourists.”
The 2-0 loss to Hercules seems like a long time ago, but as I remember it, there were a lot of people who felt it an ill omen. How could such a talented team and defense be opened up by little ol’ Hercules? No goals, what about Villa? Will Messi get on track? Ah, hindsight and all that. Now it is a faint glimmer of a remembrance of walking dream perhaps, but it was a huge moment at the time and would prove to be the biggest darkness before the dawn and all those other quaint platitudes. But oh the handwringing at the time. Just seems funny now.
Alan Grant: [frightening a small child who mocked raptors] “The point is … you are alive when they start to eat you. So you know … try to show a little respect.”
Could it have been anything other than the Manita in the first Clasico? No, no it could not. There were more interesting games that the team played, more competitive, more fun to watch in terms of suspense, but as far as games that involve bitch slapping your eternal rival in the mouth, silencing the doubters, and setting up the rest of a double winning season, this one takes the cake. I am no particular wordsmith, as you must all know by now, so I have the Spoiler’s description of the game, which was awarded their Match of the Season honor:
It takes something pretty bloody special for a 5-0 hammering to be considered the Match of the Season, but this was absolutely, amazingly nice.
Barcelona were incredible. They were beautiful. They were sex on 22-legs.
Yep, that about sums it up. In retrospect, it wasn’t the most important league game of the season for Barcelona, nor for any other competition really, but as a fan of the Blaugrana, a 90-minute surgical torture to the tune of 5-nil will put a smile across your face for years to come.
A rush of blood to the head
John Hammond: “Spared no expense.”
Well it wouldn’t be this season’s review without mentioning the Qatar Foundation sponsorship thing (I could also have included David Villa’s signing here, but I think the QF issue somehow was a bigger thing). I fell firmly on the side of those who believe (maybe because I resigned myself to this fact over a year ago) that it’s just business, it was going to happen, and the sponsor might have been worse (read: a picture of Sepp Blatter on the front, BP oil on the back). But no matter how you feel, it was a HUGE deal. Barcelona will be paid €170 million over 5.5 years making this the largest shirt sponsorship deal in football history. Some viewed it as the ultimate violation of everything the team stands for, then again, I kind of viewed that as happening when they wouldn’t let me become a socio because I’m not a Catalan. So yeah, get in a dither about that if you want, but I view xenophobia a might bit harsher than getting paid. Selling out? Perhaps. Luke being jaded? Most likely. Nevertheless, it was big news, and it will shape some of the things to come in the team’s future, both on the field and economically. However, this is sexy as hell:
Tough as a T-Rex hide
Ian Malcolm: “Life finds a way.”
The prospect of 4 matches against Madrid in 18 days was enough to excite a number of fans, and enough to drive the rest to drink. Then remembering that those matches could decide La Liga, would decide the Copa del Rey, and would determine one of the finalists for the Champion’s League, you might have considered killing yourself. It was too much, way too much. 2 Clasicos in the league every year involves enough press room histrionics to cause me to avoid any mention of them. However, no season review would be complete without the mention of 4 games against the most arch of rivals just as evolution is not complete without the messy process of billion of years, and billions of dead. In the end, 1 win and 2 draws was enough for the Barça Double’s life to find a way, even if the Cup of the King was not survival of the fittest, but instead an action to make the team stronger going forward. And without survival, and that’s really the only word for it, or those 4 games, we would never be treated to Barça’s 4th European Double in history and pictures like this:
Much deserved trophies for a great star
Heart-warming
Dr. Ian Malcolm: “Don’t you see the danger, John, inherent in what you’re doing here? Genetic power is the most awesome force the planet’s ever witnessed, yet you wield it like a kid that’s found his dad’s gun.”
Eric Abidal was diagnosed with a tumor in his liver in mid-March. We did not know the extent of problem, whether it was cancerous or benign, but we do know that he had surgery to remove it shortly after diagnosis. Most called it a season-ending injury. Hell, invasive surgery like that usually keeps a player out for a long period just because they have no fitness coming back. Then, Guardiola subbed him in during the Champion’s League semis against Madrid in stoppage time. It made for a good story but Adidal was clearly out of shape and his positioning was suspect. But Pep knows better and started Abidal in the Final, and he played well. Not great, but well enough. But overcoming the possibility of cancer to return and play in the biggest club football game on the planet gains you a special place in the hearts of your teammates and other fans. So of course Captain Puyol, who played very little in the game, handed the armband to King Eric for one of those incalculably sweet and beautiful moments: Abidal lifts the trophy in the place of the Captain and the Vice-Captain. A touching moment, and probably the Barcelona moment of the year.
This team is special. Put aside all the envious vitriol from other people, and repeat after me: this team is special. It’s a once in a lifetime team. A historic, unrepeatable, almost unbeatable team who has special talents coming out of its youth system, and around Europe, fitting in seamlessly. Just think about that for a second.
