But the big deal seems to be Pinto’s handball outside the box with Roberto Soldado bearing down on him. It was a handball and it was outside the box. That much is clear and indisputable thanks to the video evidence. That it comes on the heels of Sandro Rosell’s statements about refs seemed just perfectly on so many levels. The press knows how to play this softball lobbed down the middle. They had their hook baited and someone snapped it up at the first asking, which is all they could ever hope for.

Yet live, I thought it was on the line. Live, I thought there was no way it was a penalty. The ball rebounded off his arm and that was a close call, but damn, well done to stay in the box. No ref can really call that, either, since he’s looking at it from behind and probably a good 40 yards away. So it’s up to the linesman and I’ll admit to ignorance on where the linesman was standing, but if it was anywhere other than directly in line with the play, perspective tells us he probably couldn’t make the call well either. The linesman in the second half got it wrong against Valencia too, having lined up incorrectly when the ball was played, he didn’t see through 2 Valencia players to Mascherano (I believe) behind him.

Referees do make mistakes, that’s for sure. Lassana Diarra wasn’t sent off, but Sergio Ramos was. Pinto wasn’t sent off, but then again, there were several fouls that were worthy of yellow cards that didn’t get one and they would almost certainly have led to second yellows later. Remember when Eric Abidal was sent off against Chelsea for a non-foul on Anelka? These things happen. And sometimes they go your way and sometimes they don’t. I thought the reffing was rather sad throughout the match last night, but, in the end, it evened out and the 1-1 draw that could have been very different was probably the right outcome. Sport called the whole Callejon-Rosell thing pretty well, though, I have to admit.

What’s best, right now, is to stop talking about referees and start wondering where the midfield dynamism will come from over the next couple of weeks. Xaviniesta, esta es una injury fest. Damn.

Your review is coming up this evening. Hasta mañana.

PS this, forever:

Earlier today, I Tweeted:

I just appreciate what we have now. It’s not going to last forever. So enjoy this man while you can. So proud:

And link this video (must watch by ElAlonso14):

Then someone [nick (@vossbrink)] replied: I had to click on that to see if you were talking about Xavi, Pep, Puyol, Iniesta, or Messi.

Think about that for a second.

The fact is, we have a once in a lifetime team. One that’ll go down as one of the best, if not THE best, in history. For me, it’s better to focus on their merits, appreciate their achievements, and thank them for taking the high road.

Don’t think for one second this doesn’t bother the team as much as it bothers us fans.

It does. A lot. How could it not?

But they don’t feel the need to make excuses, abuse referees, or create a fuss in public. They do their business and move on, probably ranting among themselves.

I’m also extremely thankful for such a classy manager whose love of the club and respect of its values transcends his own pride.

Other people would kill to have a team like ours. I mean, really. A team of classy, ridiculously talented individuals who respect the team they play for and see past their own self righteousness? Who wouldn’t be jealous of that with the way modern football is now? Don’t let the opinions of others distract you from what we have.

Make no mistake, there will be a post written by someone eventually calling out all the false equivalency, hypocrisy, double standards, potential conspiracies, and the overall turgid behaviour. [That someone will not be me, by the way]

Just not now.

There’s a bigger picture, which is: they lost. It’s over.

We have a tough game against Villarreal at the Madrigal, one where we could drop more points (just 15(!) first team players). As of now, I don’t really care if we don’t win any (more) titles. Just so long as the orgasmic football continues, I’m satisfied. (I’d be over the moon if we became the first team to win back to back Champions Leagues…)

It’s impossible not to care [especially if they give the ball away cheaply or silly goals are conceded] but whatever additional titles – don’t forget we’ve already won the SuperCopa, European Super Cup, and the World Club Cup — we end up winning or losing, I’ll just enjoy the ride.

As Xavi said last year:

“Other teams win and they’re happy, but it’s not the same. The identity is lacking. The result is an impostor in football. You can do things really, really well [..] but did not win. There’s something greater than the result, more lasting. A legacy.”

Som-hi Barca

Our occasionally delusive defender.

Riling people up is his part of his M.O,

Other than crosses to who knows.

When it comes to football,

He’s that guy that everyone loves to hate,

But secretly wants as their teammate.

He never gets tired,

Sprints like a man on fire.

Dani is a player cules are grateful for,

Because he’s like a spirit untamed,

Plays as if he were still a babe,

Even if his pants sometimes go up in figurative flames.

~|~

B’s for Busi

The defensive midfield genius,

Who has a terrible reputation,

And while it’s not without reason,

He needs more appreciation.

Gets in the way like no one else,

(except maybe Keita)

His opponents just groan and wish,

They could face someone else.

Such a talented player,

With legs like Bambi,

Watching him do rondos all day,

Would be just dandy.

~|~

C is for Captain Carles

The vine swinging central defending artisan,

Who I am sure sometimes role-plays as a Catalan Tarzan.

He has heart, he has luscious curly locks,

But most of all, he’s a master at those timely blocks.

At 34, some wonder how long he’s last for,

Which I ruefully shake me head at, senor.

Because he’ll be our Maldini forevermore,

Until he can resist the call to wilderness no more,

(Someone has to save those vulnerable orangutans)

In which case he’ll be inducted into Barca forklore.

The indomitable Puyi,

El Capita of yore.

~|~

D’s for Dahveed

Our Asturian maravilla.

Scored twentysomething goals in his maiden season,

While less than his normal haul,

It’s still pretty decent.

Played through pain with a cracked tibia,

Not that that stopped the media.

Now a crack has turned into a break,

In the semis against Al-Sadd,

People are feeling quite bad.

But he’ll recover to be offside another day.

Puxa Guaje! The Euros await.

~|~

E is for Eric

The example of elegance.

Survived the toughest of trials,

With the biggest of smiles,

This leftback will be staying for a while.

A consummate professional,

When he tackles he’ll get all ball.

During training he’ll teach the trainers,

How to walk with major swagger, y’all.

~|~

F is for Francesc

A common name for many Catalan nens,

Not the least two very important men.

The first is a boy who returned home,

After a couple of million Euros were blown.

His play in the final third is fantastic,

Though he still has room for improvement,

Like the passes completed statistic.

The second is much lesser known,

Most remembered in the media for his eyeball woes,

But his presence is very much valued,

As the corner to goal stats will tell you.

~|~

G’s for Gerard

Who also come in a pair.

One will no doubt pique your interest,

As his last name is one of the coolest.

In Catalan God Made Him is (Deu)(lo)(feu),

And if he makes the first team,

That will be his nickname,

What say you?

The other is called Piquenbauer at his best,

On his off days, his passing is a bit of a mess.

His future objective is to be Barca president,

Considering who we have now, few would object.

~|~

H is for Hleb

The name whose etymology stems from bleh.

Attacking moves failed for no reason,

When he was here for one season.

Ego was too large at the time,

To see the picture at large.

Now he’s seen the error of his ways,

Has been quite self-deprecating along the way,

Not that it will help him earn his stay.

His contract expires in June of this year,

And I don’t think anyone will shed many tears.

~|~

I’s for Iniesta

The pale faced Illusionista.

Brilliant as he is pale,

He’s enough to make a grown man wail.

The silkiness of his touch,

Can make the rowdiest of crowds hush.

When he scores the birth rates soar,

Which explains why he doesn’t do it more.

Of course, it could always be that pesky forcefield,

Only extra time desperation can break through that shield.

Glides through the crowd with the ball glued to his feet,

Take a bow, son, you are beyond belief.

~|~

J is for Jose

But not who you’re thinking of.

It’s Manuel Pinto, The Rapping One.

But I guess I could include a picture of the other one.

~|~

K’s for Keiteeee

The Malian utility man.

He never makes a scene,

Just puts out the fire,

Before you can even say ‘please.’

An all around nice guy,

When he takes the ball once again

Rival players just sigh.

Won’t be in the front pages,

Not flashy enough for the attention,

But you can bet his manager will be singing his praises

~|~

L ‘s for Lionel

Who needs no introduction.

The things he does are just silly,

Dribbles past bamboozled defenders,

All willy nilly.

The talent of the century,

Really, we’re witnessing history.

The boy from Rosario will continue like this,

Because we all know that inside,

He’s just a little kid.

“Aguante, Leo!” they chant,

“You’re a once in a lifetime crack!”

~|~

M is for Mascherano

The monster from San Lorenzo.

His last ditch tackling is an art form,

A master at making strikers forlorn.

One of Guardiola’s precious sunshines,

He’ll be around to keep the defense in line.

Defensive midfield is his natural position,

So him at centre back prompted a Spanish Inquisition.

Until they realized he is actually pretty decent,

And maybe, just maybe, he’s not a makeshift.

The only problem is that he is yet to score a goal,

Which is completely unacceptable.

~|~

N’s for Nou

Though many English commentator tends to say Nou Camp,

I am in the other camp,

the one that calls the stadium Camp Nou.

And they would do well to do that too.

~|~

O is for Oriol

Got sold to English giants Chelsea,

To gain some first team minutes,

And it’s all working out quite nicely.

Oh, he’s a real jewel!

Passes better than seven Gareth Barrys,

And never loses a one on one duel!

Chelsea fans are enamoured,

With the bald teenaged Spaniard.

As he gains a regular place,

Cules all sit and wait,

For the inevitable Romeugate.

~|~

P is for Pep

The paragon of perfection.

You can call him a perfectionist,

Or a passionate pessimist,

But he’s really just the personification of excellence.

An astute tactician, a risk taking dreamer,

Whatever you call him, he’ll make you a believer.

Not interested in praise or verbal fights,

Just wants to take the club to even greater heights.

Came in when everything was dire,

Plucked out the problems with a pair of pliers,

Now the trophy conveyor belt never tires.

All we can say is:

Gracies, Pep.

~|~

Q is for Queca

Puyol’s deceased sheep.

I probably could have thought of something better,

but hey, Q’s a difficult letter.

~|~

R is for Rodriguez

Pedro Rodriguez.

He’s no James Bond, more like your average Joe,

But that’s what makes him so lovable.

Whirlwind arms as he closes players down,

The effort he makes will never make you frown.

The first to score in six different competitions,

He received some much deserved recognition.

Suffered a troublesome injury last Hlebruary,

Which cause a loss of form for the Canary[-ian]

But he’ll be back eventually,

When the defenses are least ready.

~|~

S is for Sanchez

Our smiley and speedy striker.

In the mornings romantic music is what he listens to,

No wonder he steals so many hearts,

But I bet he’s quite the heartbreaker too.

He is quite the character,

Indeed he’s always wanted to be an actor,

He’s got the personality, you know?

But his lack of English skills, outside “take it easy”, was the main detractor.

(It wouldn’t fly in Hollywood, you see).

Player of the season for Udinese in Italy,

Trying to keep up with him stride for stride,

Is a classic practice in futility.

~|~

T’s for Thiago

Our terrific starlet.

Not afraid to get stuck in,

Knowing it will help the team win,

This is a young man willing to improve,

Conscious that he still has everything to prove.

His defensive game has come leaps and bounds,

Has developed enough to astound.

He is a player who has his own style,

A fleet footed dribbler who can spray passes with guile.

He is not the next Xavi or Ronaldinho,

He is the first Thiago.

~|~

U is for Unzue

Who, you say?

Juan Carlos Unzue,

The goalkeeping coach.

Yeah, I don’t have much to say.

Sorry, Unzue.

~|~

V is for Victor Valdes

Who conveniently has two Vs in his name.

His job is quite the paradox,

He has to be alert to the danger,

Which is often meager.

But if he’s not focused,

The goals will pour in like locusts.

He has had trouble in his career early on,

Where it seemed like he wouldn’t continue on.

But he persevered and now he’s revered,

As San Victor! …Or not.

Not that the praises will stop.

~|~

W is for Wembley

The historic stadium some envy,

The site of some of our greatest victories.

~|~

X is for Xavi

The grand maestro of the tippy-tappy.

Faced with dangerous tendon trotting players,

An average human would shiver in terror.

Most neurons send instructions to flight or fight,

But his tell him to dominate and smite,

Because for the sake of football, he will do what’s right.

He can pick a pass like a surgeon doing bypass,

Not even crap similes can block his path.

For him, supporting Barca is not just for show,

It really is unconditional.

Y is for Youth

The players of the future,

It’s always a pleasure to watch them mature.

Z is for Zubi

Our former goalkeeper turned sporting director.

I don’t really have much to say about him,

so I’ll just give you a picture.

Zubi channeling his inner Puyi

—

At the start of said race, twenty teams are situated on their individual roads. Their destinations at this point are all the same: reach the La Liga title at the end of the line.

And so, the hunt begins.

But soon enough some start to lag behind, their rusty old death traps unable to keep up with the sleek, powerful luxury cars. And so they swiftly change course to a different destination: avoid relegation, or disqualification from the race.

The other cars manage to keep up with the two leading the chase until they run into a gigantic mountain, a mountain I like to call Money Mountain. Realizing there is no viable tunnel to pass through the insurmountable landform, they too are forced to change direction to another objective: automatic CL qualification and/or European spots.

On the other side of Money Mountain are two cars:  one painted blue and red, the other in white. These are the two that are competing for the title.

The red and blue car is a thing of beauty, one far ahead of its time. The car was almost entirely produced within the place it originated from. As flashy as it is efficient, it’s unmatched in distance covered over time. The engine is purring nicely, the tires study and durable, the paint job sleek and immaculate. The driver is a dreamer, a hairless risk taker with a sense of danger whose methods are as revolutionary as they are unconventional.

The white car is comparatively much more expensive, having cost almost a billion dollars. Each part, down to the paint, was imported from the finest regions. Second to none over short distances, the car is neigh indestructible. With a seemingly endless wealth of money, replacing ailing parts is no issue. The driver of this monster is no-nonsense, one who has no qualms taking off a sheet of paint if it means the car will drive faster.

Now if you all follow my analogy, let me continue.

 “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!”

There are a lot of people who feel that way and do not like the changes that our driver is implementing. Why change something that was already working so well?

What these people don’t understand is that the other cars are starting to catch up, beginning to slowly close the gap in distance. They’re relentlessly studying the blueprint and are adapting themselves to fit into the design.

The structure of this car may be our philosophy, the model this current golden generation of players and the driver our incredible coach, but no matter how good or efficient it is, a 2010 model can only compete with a 2012 one for so long.

It has to be constantly push and reconfigured for it to stay on top. If you stand still, others will pass you eventually.

“The tires don’t fit as well as they could, the engine is stuttering a bit, and the car is lagging behind!” is all they see, not realizing that when the kinks come out and a groove is settled in, the car will tear down the road so fast, others will only see its after-image.

But it will be a bumpy ride.

The road we’re driving on won’t always be smooth. There will be slippery sections — even without being able to cross Money Mountain, the other teams are still able to put pressure on the front two, pushing them to the limit and sometimes even managing to derail them a bit. There will also be uneven pavement, with that rough patch of form, and times where we’ll be running low on gas.

However, the weather conditions depend on the fans. They can make it sunny, or a torrential downpour. A pleasant drive or heck on Earth. Seeing as the media already makes it a pressure cooker environment, I personally chose the former.

That’s not to say that no one is allowed to be critical. Some players need that criticism, those boos, to keep them competitive and on their toes. In the FourFourTwo issue I read recently, Cesc Fabregas had this to say:

“When everything is going well, [Barcelona] is the best team is the world, but when things go bad and they [the fans] get the white hankies out and whistle, what do you do? You go home and you don’t leave the house. You. Do. Not. Leave. In London, we lost and I’d still go out and eat, I had my life. You’re the idol, the captain, you play every game, you don’t win anything in seven years but no worries, the fans are singing…

[...] I wanted that step. I wanted to say, “B*****s, if I play badly I want them to whistle and boo me”. No one wants to be whistled, but I wanted that pressure, those demands. That helps you improve.”

The Burden of Expectation

The incredible performances by the blaugrana car means it is constantly under the pressure to succeed, under the (almost crushing) burden of expectation. They are expected to have maximum efficiency, they are expected to leave the others in the dust, they are expected to never slow down. They are never allowed to have a low fuel tank, nor are they allowed to make pit-stops.

They wouldn’t want it any other way, but we should remember that it wasn’t always like this.

This blueprint was one that took decades to design.  The idea was introduced and the path was paved by Rinus Michels, the philosophy was implemented and the route was designed by Johan Cruyff, and the structure was perfected and the route was memorized by Pep Guardiola.

And now Pep is redesigning everything so that it’ll become even more efficient.

If there is rust, they will repaint it. If the engine is stuttering, they will lubricate it. If there is a flat tire, they will take a spare one from the trunk called La Masia.

But if there is doubt, there shouldn’t be.

A car that has put in so many great performances, ones that will be remembered forever, doesn’t deserve some of the accusations leveled against them. Criticism is fine, just don’t go over the top. For the last couple of seasons, we’ve been traveling unheard of distances using the least amount of fuel. That’s not normal. Right now a team in progress is still finding its feet with some trips and stuttering along the way. This is normal.

If the white car passes the finish line before the blaugrana car, it doesn’t mean the latter is decrepit. The white car may have just had more gas for the home stretch, was more energy efficient during the campaign, or cut the right corners. The blaugrana car will be back next year with even more upgrades to challenge once again.

As long as it strives to improve, there should be no be reservations.

The driver will never let this car veer off track.

That’s all, basically.

———

Watch this video, and freeze it at the 52 second mark.

See us?  No?  Look closely – behind the south goal; to the left of the pink signs; between the 2 orange-coated security guards; behind the metal guards…. we’re those 2 blurry white faces that you can see through the middle rails.

So we didn’t have the best of seats. Surrounded by 7,000+ other Socis, it dawned on many that the majority had been given the less-favoured seats behind the goals and higher on the top tier, while the non-Soci fans had been given the better seats on the laterals, for which they had each paid €5.

Sour grapes, much?  Yeah, a bit – but more on that later.  Let’s concentrate on what we could see, given the obstacles between us and a clear view of the players.

The Miniestadi gates opened at 10am for an 11:30am start. A steady stream of fans heading for the stadium surrounded us as we left our bus and walked to the Miniestadi entrance.  Excited kids were everywhere; dressed in their Barça kits and refusing to obey the chidings of their elders to put on jackets and coats, because that would hide their blaugrana colours.  On the coldest day of the Barcelona winter, thus far.  By local standards it was bitterly cold, and Catalans are usually in jackets, scarves and gloves around the time that summertime (daylight saving) ends in October.  I kid you not.

As the start time drew closer, the crowd was revved up by a stadium announcer who led the crowd in Barça chants and El Cant; calling out players’ first names with the crowd responding with their surnames; as well as interviewing fans in both Català and English, and initiating more than a few Las Olas to warm us up.  We agreed that Camp Nou needs someone like this guy to compère at matches and to stir up some enthusiasm and crowd participation

Bang on time, accompanied by the raucous cheers from the crowd and the roll call of names by the compère, out came the squad led by Pep and the trainers.

Running out to the middle of the pitch, the team split into 2 groups to do a couple of quick laps around the pitch.  The Catalan players were in one group, and the non-Catalan Spanish players and non-Spanish players made up the other group – except for Busquets and Montoya who got some ribbing from Messi, Keita and Co., for being in the “wrong” group.

Heading over to one side of the pitch, (as far away from us as they could get), the 2 groups got into some rondo training.  After about 10 minutes they ran over to the other side of the pitch, closer to the wheelchair contingent camped on the sideline under the main grandstand, and continued rondo duties.

Meanwhile, we and those around us were attempting to peer around the over-the-top security contingent that was parked in front of us, and did their utmost to impede our vision.  There was less than 20′ between each man – worse than what I’ve seen on match days at Camp Nou.  It was ridiculous.  We were behind tall metal ball-stopping barriers, and the security was tighter in front of these 6′ barriers than it was on the laterals, where people could have more easily hopped over the waist-high wooden barrier that was the backing for the pitch signage.  But that’s where the paying crowd was!

After the rondos, the squad reassembled, and then again split into 2 groups.  The players, (who had started the Copa del Rey match against Osasuna the night before), got more rondotime, while the rest got to play some football in the middle of the pitch.

VV was doing goal practice at the north goal furthest away from us, while we got Pinto. That was cool, as we got to watch Pinto do his stuff.

It was obvious that this was not to be a full-blown practice session, but more of a stretching exercise after the Osasuna match.  Pep did little to direct any of the training, as did any of the coaching staff.  It was more a relaxed, social event for all of them – a choreographed do-some-laps, do-some-rondos, play-some-football in front of the crowd before splitting up to visit hospitals around Barcelona, giving out presents to the kids for Kings’ Day.

The Osasuna-playing group ran a couple of laps before going over to spend some time with the fans in the wheelchairs, signing autographs and taking photos with them.  They then did another cursory lap of the pitch, waving goodbye before leaving the field.

The players in the middle left their game to also spend time with the wheelchair group and then kicked about 12 balls into the crowd.  That duty was mostly given to the Barça B players and Messi.  Another quick run-around, staying mostly within the pitch, and then they were gone.

Apart from a handful that briefly did come over to parts of the crowd to give autographs during their farewell laps, the players remained isolated from the majority of the audience. 

One player stood out for his exemplary fan interaction. Maxwell stood on a lateral for about 10 mins, no doubt getting colder by the second, and signed a number of camisetas that were thrown to him by the crowd.  He was awesome. Abidal and Fontas briefly did the same.

It was hard not to feel disappointed for the kids around us, who were calling out to the players and brandishing autograph books, in vain attempts to get them to come over.  There were a few tears shed by kids who had come with even higher expectations than we adults.

So – what could have been done better?  Some points to consider from a personal perspective:

1.  If the club is going to hold a public event to “thank the Socis”, then please make sure that the Socis feel loved.  Certainly those of us who were stuck behind the goals did not get that feeling – especially those of us who were behind the south goal far away from most of the action, with Pinto being the only one who we got to see at close range for more than 10 seconds at a time.

2.  Give the Socis the prime seats instead of sticking them behind the goals and up on the tiers.  We’re the ones showing our loyalty by paying yearly subscription fees to be club members.  We’re the ones who queued really, really early on the first day of ticket releases to get our tickets.  We’re the ones who snapped up most of the tickets in our eagerness to support our team and to see something out of the ordinary. Yet the prime seats are given to non-Socis who, even if they wanted to, could not become members because of the board’s decision to stop new membership registration.  What sort of reward is this for Socis?  A lot of people walked out before the training was over because they couldn’t see much of the event.  I bet that you didn’t see that in the TV coverage.

3.  Arrange better positioning of the training exercises on the pitch.  All the activity took part down the north end which left those sitting at southern locations feeling isolated – especially for those of us stuck behind tall barriers and too many security guards.

4.  During the event, allocate some time for the players to give autographs to the regular crowd, and not just the wheelchair fans. For 5-10 minutes, the players could have been spread out around the whole seating area, and would have given a big thrill to a lot of kids, as well the opportunity for them to see their idols at close range.  Even a run around of players getting close enough to give high-fives would have made a lot more children happy, instead of ending in the tears that we saw, and the stressed-out parents and grandparents dealing with the fallout of unfulfilled expectations.

It’s difficult to write this without sounding disappointed and ungrateful. It’s like Kevin when he gives out his player ratings based on individual match performances, and then receives flak from outraged readers with demands that Messi should receive a 10 for every game.  There’s an expectation that everything that our team and club does should be perfect at all times.

I realise that a vast majority of you reading this would have given your eye, teeth and/or your firstborn to attend a Barça training – you would have most likely been given better seats than we had.

Would we have had a better time with better seating?  I would have been able to get better images!  However, there was nothing that we experienced at the training that we don’t see in a normal pitch warm-up before a game at Camp Nou.

We’re so fortunate to live in Barcelona and to experience “our team” on a regular basis.

We’re living a culé dream, and on the day before El Dia de Reis, we got to see our football kings one more time and, for this, we are thankful and blessed.

More images can be seen here:  https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150706275304012.491322.733604011&type=1&l=923338c1ed

Feel free to download them for private use on personal blogs etc: attributed to me and linked back to my Facebook Album, but there is no commercial use allowed without my permission.

——————-

BFB would like to thank Michele for taking the time to share her pictures and write about her experience. Awesome job!

–I tuned in at 1-0, and was oddly calm. It looked like they had played their best, and we hadn’t.

–I have NO idea how we are going to replace Puyol.

–Fabregas was invisible most of the match, popped up at the right time.

–Happy 600th for Xavi, way to celebrate with a goal. Next time, lay off the hair gel, and you could have a brace.

–Messi was erratic, but enormous at a few crucial times.

–Sanchez is worth every penny. He seems to have said “The hell with it,” and is playing his game. Amazing stuff.

–Valdes needs to work on passing out of the back, man-style.

–The return of Iniesta to the midfield saw the surge of our dominance.

–Keita is. He just is. I predicted he would come on about ’75, for those in-the-way qualities, and so he did. Brilliant.

–Abidal, when players weren’t getting full-speed runs at him, was enormous.

–Best of all, there is absolutely NOTHING they can say about this match. No refs, no diving, no nothing. We walked into their house, and whipped their asses.

That’s all it got for now, folks, but let’s have some FUUUUUNNNNN!

Our #7 has been under constant attack since he has joined the blaugrana side because the goals have not been flowing for him as with his previous teams. With arguably the world’s best midfield behind him, everyone expected Spain’s top hit man to be even more prolific. Following the World Cup, the media, fans, his ex-teammates, his friends and family all placed bets that Villa would achieve one of his lifelong goals to be Pichichi of the league he didn’t dare leave, the league he loves so much – La Liga.

Before he joined Barça, Villa equated himself with the goal. And if you watched or read any interviews asking others such as Xavi, Casillas, Pique, and Iniesta how they would describe Villa, they all answered with one word: goals. Few knew - and few know - that for Barça, the job Villa was signed to do was not so simple. It seems that only two men really knew what el Guaje was in for: Pep Guardiola and Johan Cruyff.

Cruyff knew with Barça’s system already set to revolve around the world’s best player in Messi, Pep would assign Villa to the left. In his weekly column for El Periodico published on March 28 2011, Cruyff wrote in defense of Villa:

Just as Xavi is not in the field only to give assists, Villa plays not only to score. As they are two of Barça. Xavi was needed to be champions of Europe and the World, and reached 100 to receive the praise of all. With him, the selection is a bit of Barça. And a bit of Barcelona is a lot. Xavi brings style, balance and ball control; Villa, depth. His problem, not yours, is the burden up front, is that of a forward. And for that there is no field, there is no coach – the striker stands alone on goal. The error of appreciation is enormous.

Villa is no less dangerous at five games without scoring for Barcelona. Or does any less of a good job for taking three caps to overcome Raúl for the record. The strikers are selfish. The team can win, but they will not sleep easy if they do not meet with a goal.

But if he is already the top scorer in the history of selection, if the percentage of goals per match is high, it is because he does much more than wait for the ball and push it. Villa is synonymous with depth. It means being always ready to open passing lanes, to draw defenders and thus freeing space for others.

Will he always score? No. This failure is part of football. For me, whether a forward plays badly or not has nothing to do with the goal. Or just by moving near the penalty area and marking more numbers than any other. Playing good or bad depends on whether he does or does not do a number of details that mean just as much as a goal. In his case, we are talking about depth.

Cruyff emphasizes that Villa is used to allow Barça to play with its signature philosophy and style. Furthermore, time and time again, Guardiola has also defended Villa and reiterated his confidence in el Guaje, saying that he is “indisputable.” More tellingly, in his October 24th press conference, Pep said: ”Thanks to Villa, we can play as well as we do. We do not find many like him. I would like to have more players like Villa by my side in my career. He has adapted and has the humility to do it… few would have the modesty to sacrifice themselves like that.”

And that’s what Villa is for at Barça: sacrifice. Guardiola knows well that he is not using Villa optimally – but Villa is being used to help Barça in the best way possible.  In a team sport, sacrifice is a necessity and in this team, Villa is a necessity.

Wasted

Guardiola doesn’t fully utilize Villa’s excellent control with long balls and his searing directness in counterattacks. Longs balls are not Barça’s style – though some variability now and then really can’t hurt. However on the second point, the counterattacks, the team really needs to work on. When space is cleared for once, Barça’s counterattacks are miserably slow. Too many players pass sideways even when there is space ahead, throwing the advantage of counterattacking in the bin. But returning to the main point, it is clear that unlike with Messi, the team does not play to Villa’s strengths – Villa is made to play to make the team stronger.

Football Without the Ball

David Villa is one of the world’s best players with his off-the-ball movement and with his ability to desmarque  – to lose his markers, draw defenders, and wreak havoc in the back line with his tireless and intelligent runs.  Especially against teams that park the bus, Villa creates space so that the team, so that Messi and Cesc – or whoever is allowed to play centrally – can score.  Maintaining the width of the pitch like he does requires strict discipline and patience – the latter of which, many have failed reciprocate with Villa.

Taking on a lot more defensive duty and constantly pressuring, Villa became a more complete player but ceded his role as being the focal point through which goals are scored. And nominally known as a striker (and I say nominally, because at Barça he is really a winger), the primary thing people expect of him is goals, and lots of them. Failing to realize that his off-the-ball movement and link-up play up front is what helps create Barça’s goals, many continue to question Villa’s place on this team.

Moreover, Villa always expects himself to score more because that is what he truly loves to do. He achieves this mainly by cutting in from the left, connecting with his teammates, and playing clever one-twos. He also by making runs across the backline waiting for thru-balls. The second strategy has drawn criticism due to the number of offsides he has accumulated – last season. This season, he is in fact onsides a lot more, but the reputation has stuck so that for any 50/50 situation, the linesmen would now raise the flag.

Not Only Barça’s Rivals Are Denied Possession…

Perhaps compelled to fit into the Barça way of passing and eager to prove he’s compatible with Messi, Villa sometimes hesitates, overthinks, and is less bold than his former self. However this is a psychological matter – maybe one of confidence – rather than a matter of ability. He needs to feel that he won’t be reprimanded for not passing and for taking shots. In this team known for possession, he is afraid of losing balls. But look at Messi and you’ll see that he loses plenty – it’s only natural with forwards because they are the ones responsible for taking those risks. Villa needs to know that he is allowed to take those chances too. David Villa has shown and he is continuing to show with Spain, that he has plenty of technique and ability with the ball. With his national side, he still plays on the left but he is given much much more freedom to float between lines and move around. As a result, he receives the ball a lot more and scores at a much higher rate. It’s simple in this respect: in order to put the ball in the back of the net – you need the ball.

1-on-1s is not one of his strengths, but he rarely gets the opportunity to make those individual on-the-ball plays on a team of players who all love to play with the ball – Messi, Iniesta, Thiago, and especially now Fabregas. Often flailing his arms and screaming in frustration in attempt to receive the ball, the amount of ball this footballer sees is minimal. Even Guardiola has recognized that Villa’s runs too often go ignored. Why is this though?

Ignoring any biases players may have with each other and strictly tactically – the space in the middle has now opened up because of Villa and Pedro on the flanks; Messi is free to face the goal. And since it is obviously easier to score right in front of the goal rather than having to come in from an angle, the midfielder would opt to pass to the centrally located false-nine. Also, it must be noted that because Dani Alves is so much better at pushing up and playing the ball in from the right than any left-back at Barça is capable of replicating on the left (with absolutely no disrespect to Abidal), there is simply more action and goal scoring opportunities on that other band.

Behind the Numbers

Any player in Villa’s position, with his job and on this team, will have difficulty scoring as regularly as they may have on other teams.  Too often is the work behind the goals ignored.  Too often are people blinded by the score-line and statistics – the number of goals, assists, shots, etc. The work Villa does (and Pedro too) is immeasurable – often unnoticed and off the screen because it is accomplished without the football. However that work has a very tangible effect on the game and on the success that Barça has achieved.

Not many players of Villa’s quality – top scorer of a Euro and World Cup winning national team – will be able to fulfill that job description with as much grace and professionalism as he has. In addition to what he adds in the locker room (I hear from Pep that he’s a real joker), let’s not forget all the goals he has scored for Barça. David Villa is already a part of Barça history and I say he has done and is doing enough to merit a place in its future. El Guaje is here because more than he loves goals, he loves the team and he loves the game.

This piece was not written as an excuse for any lack of goals; on the contrary, this piece was written in condemnation of people who mistake goals as the sole means to victory and the end to the game. This piece was written to remind spectators, especially culés, that football is més que the numbers, and that there is much more to see behind those statistics. It was written with the hope that they will see the game… and the most beautiful game there is: Barça’s game.

Sources:

The original El Periodico column is no longer available but the quotes can be found on these other news sites:

(1) http://www.lne.es/deportes/2011/03/29/cruyff-dice-villa-goleador/1052716.html
(2) http://www.goal.com/en/news/12/spain/2011/03/28/2414742/johan-cruyff-barcelonas-david-villa-is-more-than-just-a
(3) http://futbol.azumare.com/pep-guardiola-elogio-al-asturiano-david-villa
(4) http://www.fcbarcelona.com/football/first-team/detail/article/guardiola-eager-to-see-how-his-squad-will-react-in-granada

Newcastle’s owner, Mike Ashley, has gone the route of renaming St. James Park after his own company, Sports Direct, and has thus pushed Newcastle fans into a spot where they either accept that their stadium is named something other than St. James’ Park or they stop going to matches. As The Fiver points out,

…with the club sitting third in the Premier League almost entirely as a result of business decisions made by Ashley and his henchman, they continue to attract the ire of locals who, typically of football fans, are happy to protest about various perceived injustices, as long as it doesn’t involve any effort or sacrifice beyond a pre-match “march” from a pub they were going to be in anyway to a match they were going to anyway. Meanwhile outside St James’ Pa … sorry, the Sports Direct Arena, Ashley laughs up his sleeve as the House Full sign lights up again.

And there’s the question about Barça that appears before this particular writer: can you support a team financially and still have the leverage to make changes to that club’s approach or rules? I’ve been fairly vocal about my dislike for the new membership rules instituted under Sandro Rosell’s administration and I don’t think I’ve ever come across as a sympathizer for his particular brand of catalanismo (though such a statement should probably come with several explanatory statements for clarity), but I’m also a dues paying member and a regular purchaser of multiple Barça logo-ed products a year. I can rail against the Qatar Foundation soiling my beloved shirt as much as I want, but doesn’t my money say I don’t care that much?

Well, perhaps. Cules are in a different position than Newcastle supporters: we own the club and Rosell is just renting it for a couple of years. Like how I still pay taxes and live in the US even though I don’t support . At least that’s my current rationalization. We’re capable of changing the system by voting down the budget each year or, come the end of the president’s term, rejecting his vision outright and choosing an opposition candidate. Yet we’re also ultimately human animals as persuaded by success and the status quo as any other fan base.

Come the end of the Qatar Foundation sponsorship for the front of our shirt, will FCB simply sell to the highest bidder rather than restoring either UNICEF or the complete lack of a sponsor? Are we becoming used to the idea that the blaugrana is just another part of our business model? Or are we principled enough to have a few pre-match marches that can be derided by the general media and understood to represent massive voting blocs come election season?

And, more directly comparable to St. James’ Park, what of the Camp Nou? Is that next on the “monetizable assets” list? Are we going to see the Estadi La Caixa? Turkish Airlines Arena? We’ve got official sponsors for just about everything (and possibly actually everything), from our beer to our cars to our handball team to, I imagine, our urinals: piss on Bwin!

Perhaps you scoffed at the Newcastle fans for their marches and their fake caring while still attending matches, but are we so far away from selling the things we claim are the most important to us? There are socis out there who no doubt don’t care about the ever-expanding corporate sponsorship and it’s hard to say they’re wrong when they suggest it would hard to hold onto superstars like Lionel Messi if we couldn’t offer massive contracts. But it would be nice if the general membership could feel confident that they would be asked, in a referendum, if these changes were acceptable.

But Sandro Rosell worked for Nike and no doubt learned the valuable lesson that money makes might and might makes right. Running shoes will never be the same thanks to the swoosh’s advertising, but at what cost?* Are we so sure we want to give ourselves over to the monetary extravagances of PR campaigns from World Cup host nations? To some the UNICEF shirts may have felt like the rich buying off their consciences, but to others it was validation of a motto now emblazoned everywhere like a corporate logo.

The question becomes, I suppose, whether Newcastle fans will make that march and still fill up the seats or if they’ll take their money elsewhere. If you’re a member, what’s the last straw for you? Have you pulled the plug? Are you considering it? Are you in this for the long haul regardless? If you’re not a member, would you become one if you could? Would it matter to you if there was UNICEF on the shirt? Is QF where you draw the line or can we play in Nike Stadium and you’ll still go for that carnet? Let us know in the comments. My own, personal response, will be forthcoming in the next couple of days.

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*Not to get too tangential, but here’s a good quote from a different NYT article: ‘“On the one hand, no one has yet published a study on whether barefoot running is better for you — the evidence is all anecdotal,” Lieberman says. “On the other hand, no one has ever published a study showing that running shoes prevent injury.”’

Yet here we are, all wearing these shoes when we go running and fighting off ridiculous injuries. Some of us are better at it than others and I generally believe in technology, but McDougall’s story about Runner’s World is as illuminating a description of a corporation creating reality through money as you’re likely to find.

What if you could relive everything until you got it just right? What if you could just hit reset sometimes and that awful day you just had could be a little better if you avoided stepping in that dog mess right before you went to the really important meeting with the CEO? This morning I read an article in the New York Times that set the stage perfectly for me then moving on to reading all about Zlatan Ibrahimovic railing against Guardiola and Barça in general. Check out versions of that story here, here, and here.

"And in this part of the Master Plan, you begin to hate me. We win the league anyway."

The difference between the two stories is pretty obvious: in one, the protagonist (or antagonist, if you will) is attempting to perfect the past while in the other he is attempting to redefine his own role in that past saga. I’m not even an amateur psychologist and I can tell you there’s got to be something going on behind-the-scenes. Yet they’re both attempting to redo parts of their past and re-emphasize certain parts of it. Perhaps Todd Remis is merely still in love with his ex-wife and really can’t stand that he doesn’t have all the memories as perfect as he thinks they should be while Ibra is attempting to tarnish the image of the thing he could not convert to his method of thinking and acting.

They’re both somewhere in the throes of grieving. Like Phil Connors in the scene where he drives Punxsutawney Phil off a cliff, they’re reacting negatively to the things that they perceive as having destroyed their opportunities. Having personally just gone through the stress of a wedding and gotten back wedding pictures, I understand how easy and comforting it is to blame the photographer for all the missed shots. Not necessarily his fault he missed that absurd dance move I put on because he was following my orders and snapping pictures of my grandparents doing the limbo, but I guess I could always sue him when my grandparents disown me.

Ibra may not be asking for a redo of the season, but he’s clearly pushing the blame onto Guardiola and the Barça system. Saying things like “I know I share some of the blame, but they were complete dinglewackers I couldn’t work with at all,” is, really, not taking any of the blame. You are clearly blame shifting!

Actual quotes, unlike the made up one above, are somewhat more interesting. From the Yahoo Sports article linked above:

“He wanted to play in the middle, not on the wing, so the system changed from 4-3-3 to 4-5-1. I was sacrificed and no longer had the freedom on the pitch I need to succeed. So I asked for a meeting with Guardiola – for a discussion, not an argument. I said I was being used in the wrong way and that they shouldn’t have bought me if they wanted another type of player. I told him what a friend had said to me – ‘you bought a Ferrari but drive it like a Fiat’. The chat seemed to go well but then Guardiola started to freeze me out.”

Some of that could be construed as fair criticism–Pep is listening to someone too much and destroyed his team’s star striker in the process. But he certainly doesn’t stop there. Apologies to sensitive ears who can’t deal with cursing. Yes, that means you, Bojan.

[Ibra] pinpointed the first major row he had with Guardiola, after a 4-1 win against Villarreal during which the former Juventus and Ajax forward only played five minutes.

“(Pep) was staring at me and I lost it. I thought ‘there is my enemy, scratching his bald head’. I yelled to him: ‘You have no balls!’  And probably worse things than that.

He went on:

Diplomatic relations broke down completely when he shouted: “You have no balls. You shit yourself when facing Mourinho! Fuck off!”

and

I was completely mad. I threw a box full of training gear across the room, it crashed to the floor and Pep said nothing, just put stuff back in the box. I’m not violent, but if I were Guardiola I would have been frightened.”

That, of course, is somewhere between “whoa, whoa, whoa” and “Who are you, Carlos Tevez?” on the scale of emotional reactions to being subbed into a game. So you’re pissed off that you weren’t subbed into a game that the team won 4-1? The thing is, the context of that game should be noted: the team had just been bounced from the Champions League by Inter and was just 1 point ahead of Madrid in the standings going into the match. Ibra had also started the previous match and had been fairly stagnate throughout, so why should he start in a massive game against a good team in La Liga, especially given that his replacement, Bojan, had been good as a sub and then scored this gem.

But it goes beyond that. It goes to this:

“I would walk into a room; he would leave. He would greet everyone by saying hello, but would ignore me….after this I stopped trying to adapt.”

Yeah, okay, let’s say Pep is a total dickweed with a hard on for making your life worse. You talk nonchalantly about being a Ferrari, that your teammates are good little schoolboys who follow the rules but you’re a hard drinkin’, swashbucklin’, man’s man and you won’t have it any other way but your way or the highway. So you hit the highway in your Ferrari and now you’re doing 200mph into happiness. Good for you. But that doesn’t make Guardiola wrong. It just makes you kind of a dingleberry for racing cops in a sports car.*

Know what’s weirder? I don’t really care if Guardiola is a terrible person. Almost the entire team seems incredibly happy with him and the trophies and lovely football are piling up like dead hookers in the back of Anton Phillips’ trunk. If Ibra can’t stomach tactical changes to suit Lionel Messi, well, he should probably not be a part of a team built around the little guy.

If Todd Remis is blame shifting–my wife left me because they didn’t record the bouquet toss!–then so is Ibra. And that’s lame. Or perhaps he should sue UEFA to make them redo the 2009-10 semifinal against Inter so they can include the part where he raced back onto the field and scored the tie-winning goal in extra time and became a Catalan hero. Instead of, you know, merely doing nothing and being subbed off with 30 minutes left.

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*When I was in high school a kid bragged that he would outrun cops on his motorcycle, sometimes just for fun while joyriding in the countryside. I believe Ibra on this about as much as I believed that gallumph.