It’s been a while since there’s been a match that, for this nerd, has been worth writing about, that has sparked a degree of passion that makes fingers home in on keys because you have to say something, even if you don’t quite know what. The win against Zaragoza was that kind of match.

And let’s be clear. As I write this, the gap to the Evil Empire is 3 points, but it could return to 6 points if they do the expected, dispatching a temporarily revived in Europe but stanky in the Liga Valencia. And then what? In the matches left, the two extreme possibilities are that the defeat of Zaragoza became the spark that ignited, defined what became a glorious treble season ….

Or it could be an empty gesture in a season where cules try to convince themselves that three tertiary trophies are still gold and not silver, baubles that console in the same way the Jake La Motta in “Raging Bull” crowed at the celebrating Sugar Ray Robinson, “You never got me down, Ray. You never got me down.”

Right now, all that we know is that we beat Zaragoza in their house, one in which an unmanicured lawn, the impediment du jour, didn’t matter. Nor did a ref who was determined to “let them play,” a choice that almost invariably benefits our opponents. Nor did an opponent who didn’t give a toss about our reputation, our anointing as the best club in the world, who came out and came at us with fire, vigor and pressure, who developed early chances and even took the lead, only to have those hopes dashed against the rocks not by going a man down, but by a series of plays by a team filled with excellence, a side that just knows how to make the plays that it has to in order to win Matches That Count.

And at this point, every match counts. In the Champions League, it’s potentially three matches for the grand prize. In the Liga, there is a zero margin for error in a situation that, even if we run the table and win every remaining match might still find us losing the league, thanks to lapses in previous months, taking the macro view. In the micro view, it’s two goals: Messi’s penalty vs Sevilla and the missed chip at Villarreal. If those shots are made, we’re 4 points better which means a 2-point gap heading into our house for the next Clasic, and we’re feeling reasonably good about things.

But that’s life, and that’s football, a game that can make fans weep with joy or sadness. Today’s match was huge, because Zaragoza is fighting for its Liga life, and that makes them very dangerous. What that club failed to realize, however, is that we are, as well, just in a very different way. The struggle made for immensely entertaining viewing, and a match that was a lot closer than its scoreline indicated, embodied in the stories of four players, who I will deal with one at a time.

Victor Valdes

This season, our defense has leaked goals. Victor Valdes has been one of the best keepers in the world for some time now, but we have pretty much been the only ones who have known that. Commentators such as Phil Schoen would always focus on the past, and say things such as were it not for the effectiveness of our press and stalwart back line, Valdes would be found out, dodgy past, etc, etc, reputation-tarnishing brickbats that can come to define a player.

This season, as holes have needed to be filled, Beanpoles have gone on psychic vacations and Cavemen haven’t been the men they once were, goals have come, opportunities have come and Valdes has laid his claim to excellence. Today, Zaragoza had early chances. A stop, a penalty stop and a stop that only a lucky bounce kept from being permanent, inspired all-caps shrieking in the various forms of social media.

But it wasn’t the stops, as much as what the stops represented. Zaragoza were waiting, ready to pounce on a team whose selection meant that there wasn’t going to be the iron-clad midfield control, which meant the opportunity-sapping possession wasn’t going to be there. This meant they had a chance but first, they needed goals. Valdes kept that from happening. As Schoen noted, people are going to forget about what Valdes did in the aftermath of this victory. 1-4 seems lopsided, like a can of whipass was opened up. That wasn’t the case at all. This match was balanced on a knife’s edge, and Valdes kept it from tipping in the wrong direction.

Alexis Sanchez

El nino maravilla crowed the hype for a player whose agent said, in effect, buy him and never lose another Clasic. The hype was there, but the performances weren’t. To be fair, ours is a very difficult system to fit into, as Cesc Fabregas is discovering. Throw in some injuries, one atop the other, and it would have been enough to derail Sanchez, but he kept at it, finding salvation in work rate. Even when he could do nothing else, he could run. And track back. And run for passes. And make sheer effort his calling card, until he found his place in this remarkable team of ours. His last two outings have made it very clear what we are in for next season, with full assimilation into the side. Because simply put, Sanchez was spectacular. Perfect? Nope. But decisive, with a pass and a remarkable move in the box that led to penalty, the catalyst in two desperately needed goals that allowed Pedro’s finale to be icing on the cake.

Those who say that we potentially have two Messis are misguided. There’s only one of those per lifetime. But what we do have is a Messiniesta hybrid, if you will, a player who uses quickness and guile to find space, who has the vision to make remarkable passes (which makes the one that he didn’t make so surprising) and the stamina to raise hell on defense, run to the other end and unsettle the offense. Scary thing is that Sanchez is going to get better, even as we realize that intelligence guides his game, for those foolish enough to think that mere effort is his calling card.

Against Zaragoza, his effect was terror and destabilization. For a defense keyed up to stop Messi, what wasn’t needed was a player who didn’t even need running space to get into the box, just the ball and some ingenuity. And once he got into the box, he became a threat, which meant that attention had to be diverted from the Principal Threat. And he made them pay, efforts augmented by the box-charging midgets, which gave Sanchez places to put the ball. A remarkable match from a remarkable player, who is coming to full flower at the exact right time.

Sergio Busquets

Sergio Busquets has been called a great many things, by a great many people. But it’s a safe bet that “balm” was never going to be among those words, until now. Because there is no other way to describe the soothing, pallative effect that he had on the match, when he was inserted.

But you had to watch him carefully, because on the surface, what you saw was that suddenly, we had midfield control, and possession. Passes went to the right spots, Zaragoza could string nothing together and we grabbed the match by the throat. If you watched carefully, you were rewarded not only with the sight of a man who at times functioned as that perfect pivote, but who was also a flat-out pain in the ass, if you were Zaragoza. He was everywhere.

What made goal-fest Pedro remarkable was that he had this remarkable sense of knowing where the ball was going to be. Knowing where it is, after all, means you’re too late, and always chasing it. Busquets has that ability. Whether it is God-given or a Satanic artifact depends on whether you’re trying to make anything happen in the midfield with him around. He doesn’t seem to chase the ball. It reminds you of the old Pepe Le Pew cartoons, in which the cat runs, pell-mell, trying to escape Pepe, who just trots along, blithe smile on his face, to head the cat off at the pass.

This is Busquets, and it’s beautiful to watch as he describes a series of diagonal runs, watching, moving just a little bit so that he is in the way of the opponent, and always available for a pass from a teammate. That one player can have that effect is remarkable. His entry, too, came at the exact right time, as even with 10 men, Zaragoza wasn’t going quietly, fighting with fire, buttressed by their fans, who deserve immense plaudits as they never stopped singing and chanting, bellicose bellowing roaring along right through the final whistle, egging their side on even as Sergio Busquets was stealing its hope.

Lionel Messi

It seems absurd to say this, but there are benefits to Xavi not playing in a match. One of them is that Lionel Messi sees more of the ball. Rather than Xavi keeping things under control in the midfield, dishing out passes like a chocolatier passing out bon bons, Messi has to go get the ball. He is more involved in the offense and the generation of the offense, aggressive movement that makes him even more unpredictable. And when he is unpredictable, even more than usual, he does stupid stuff …. like that run/pass in which he faked four Zaragoza players out of their jocks, jerked them hither and yon like marionettes then got them to respond to a feint that left him just a sliver of a passing lane to take advantage of, and he did, with a perfect ball. The game is cruel because a goal didn’t result. So instead of that play, that run being on highlight shows for perpetuity, it’s just another almost-moment, that fans can add to their “remember when” files. As Ray Ray said, Messi can sell chewing gum to somebody with lockjaw.

He scored a goal, a flamethrower of a shot to the near side, perfectly placed and leaving the keeper helpless. He scored a penalty. He should have, by rights, had two assists thanks to silver-platter offerings spurned by teammates. He’s also unfair. The neutral, to be truly fair, would say that Zaragoza might have deserved more from this match. But that is what happens when you play a team of geniuses. They don’t have to play their absolute best to break your heart. Sometimes, it just takes a few players …. four of them, to be precise, to rip your guts out and make your battle against relegation, sore-throated fans notwithstanding, significantly more difficult.

Did Zaragoza feel hard done by? Dunno. But I suspect that, in their heart of hearts, after watching the play of the four abovementioned players, performances of the kind that make possible, facilitate then consolidate victories, they won’t feel all that bad. Because though the team was messy, four players were beautiful; joyously, heart-stoppingly beautiful. And it’s never okay to lose. Not for any fan. But to have beauty such as that be responsible for a little disappointment makes you feel just a little bit better somehow, like being conned by a supermodel.

Ah, the glories of Twitter. Those of you who follow me probably already know this, but I threw out a note that everybody and their mamas should follow @estadios_spain. And for damned good reason, because here’s the deal:

Blogging is a thankless, hard-as-hell, time-sucking, joy-filled endeavor. That is, we do it because we love it. Nobody outside of the Huffington Post owners is getting rich off of blogging, so the joy is payment. You would be very hard-pressed to find a more complete embodiment of this notion than the gent behind http://estadiosdeespana.blogspot.com/. Chris Clements is working on a site that covers the history of football stadiums in Spain. All of ‘em. It’s subtitle is “Detailed histories of over 250 Spanish stadiums. Very niche and ever so slightly indulgent”

True as hell, and also brilliant as hell. Want the history of the Mini Estadi? Sure, you do. He has it. Want a glowing, verging-on-loving history of the Camp Nou? Okay. It’s parsed by league, from Primera to Segunda B as well as by region, and it’s staggering. I mean I sit down, watch a match, froth at the mouth and voila, a post. But the research that goes into these posts, digging up photographs and delving into history, just makes me giddy.

It’s a first for me because I don’t think much of a great many blogs. And I sure as hell don’t think enough of them to devote a post to any of ‘em. But I didn’t want this gem of a site to get lost in the comments, where somebody might one day say “Where was that comment about that crazy dude who has the history of all of Spain’s stadiums?” So it’s a post. Set aside some time, and tuck in. To whet your appetite, here’s an excerpt from the Camp Nou:

“There are stadiums great by reputation and association which, when first encountered, disappoint. The Nou Camp is not among them”. So said Simon Inglis, the doyen of all things “stadium”. I must admit that I was, from a distance, a little underwhelmed by the Camp Nou. Then I paid a visit and I got it loud and clear. In the couple of hours I spent wandering around the stadium, the museum and the whole complex, I started to comprehend the size, the history, the symbolism and above all the fact that it is “Més que un club”.

Club finances were not helped by the protracted saga that surrounded the sale of Les Corts, and when it was finally sold in 1967, all of the 226 million pesetas raised were used to pay off the club debt. With the club’s finances back under control, the club set about rebuilding the team and developing the next stage of the sports complex. 1971 saw two significant changes. First of all the Palau Blaugrana, an indoor sports hall, and an Ice Rink were added in 1971. This would be home to the club’s basketball, handball, volleyball, roller hockey & ice hockey teams, and generate valuable additional revenue as a concert arena. On the pitch, the great Dutch coach Rinus Michels was employed, and thanks to his persuasive powers, Johan Cryuff chose Barça ahead of Real Madrid. The league title returned to the Camp Nou at the end of the 1973-74 season and the Copa del Rey followed three years later. As for the stadium, well with the exception of two electronic scoreboards, it remained unaltered until the lead up to 1982 World Cup ….

And there’s so much more. I love this site, and I think you will, too. Have fun.

We won. 3-1 at home. No cow pasture, no physical play, no telescopic legs on veteran defenders. We won. 5 Champions League semi-finals, to square off against Chelsea or Benfica. That’s it, right. Well, not quite.

Two penalties, and a lot of howling. So now what? Well, this is what:

We can’t win everything, and expect everybody …. or anybody, really …. to love us. Or even like us.

13 of 16 trophies? What the hell do you expect everyone who isn’t a cule to say? Soft calls, divers, UEFAlona, ref help, etc, etc.

So what?
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Before I say what I want to note, let me first say that if they stay within the regulated standards (i.e. don’t break any rules) home teams can do whatever they want with their pitch. Many teams morph the pitch to suit their game. For example the grass is cut shorter at Camp Nou than most stadiums so it suits our playing style better. Some other teams like to let their pitch’s grass grow a couple of inches more than usual. If it’s within the rules, okay.

Having said that the state of the San Siro pitch yesterday was, simply put, disgraceful. If that pitch meets UEFA’s standard, then things will have to change in the future.

Should it be blamed exclusively for the draw? Absolutely not. There were other, more important issues. Is that field historically bad? Undoubtedly. It’s been relayed 75 times since 1990 and the fact both Inter and Milan share the stadium compounds the problem.

But the thing is, the pitch wasn’t just “bad” – it was extremely dangerous. To the point where there was a conscious decision taken by Barcelona to not get injured. Blaming the disastrous state of the pitch on it being “historically bad” is, sorry to say, a lazy excuse. I saw the pitch against Roma at the weekend, it wasn’t as catastrophic as that.

Therefore it’s logical to assume that Milan was trying to hamper Barca and their playing style with that field. Which is not surprising (and within their right) considering it’s what home teams usually do and they did a similar thing against Arsenal in the first leg of that tie. (Who really should have complained about it because it was so blatant. Had they done it, it would have put more pressure on UEFA to look into the issue).

That's legal.

But it’s one thing to have the pitch to your advantage and another to have such dangerous conditions. In their attempt to handicap Barca, they created a pitch that was probably worse than some relegation threatened teams in administration. It was the extreme example of what can happen if pitches aren’t held to a certain standard. And it’s UEFA’s job to make sure they uphold that standard. If no one’s going to hold Milan accountable, why should they change anything?

Now, as I see it the word ‘complaint’ carries the connotation of childishness and pettiness. As if the one complaining is whining about something immaterial. There are some who are saying that by lodging an official ‘complaint’ Barcelona are whining about something irrelevant and blaming it and nothing else on the draw. That’s off-base.

What a complaint means in this context is: “A statement that a situation is unsatisfactory or unacceptable.” In this case the situation is the pitch. Does anyone (besides Madridistas and Milanistas) believe the San Siro field was satisfactory for a game of football in any way? I sure didn’t. I don’t think Robinho does either.

To lodge a complaint is well within the club’s rights; they have to defend their interests and that interest is doing their best to ensure their players don’t get injured. In a meeting before the game Barca and Milan had agreed the pitch was dry and it needed to be watered. Milan didn’t do it. Had they not asked UEFA to get Milan to release an official explanation we wouldn’t have known that. It gives us real answers rather than assumptions.

If Messi twisted his knee as his cleats dug into a tearing turf and tore his ACL, how many people would begrudge Barca for asking UEFA why it was in that condition? How many people would be outraged after it was revealed Milan broke the pre-agreement to water the pitch? Or angry at UEFA for allow a field like that in the first place?

It would be worse to make a whole media storm about it and not do anything to address the root of the problem which UEFA’s standard of what is an acceptable pitch. Barca didn’t kick up a fuss; they just submitted a complaint – a legitimate one. This is the quarter finals of the UEFA Champions League, the best football competition in the world. Expecting a playable pitch is not unheard of.

By officially ‘complaining’, Barca are also questioning the standards set by UEFA for allowing such a field. That’s important. I would have been annoyed at Barca if they didn’t lodge one, because it was just terrible. There are people who call it whining or whatever, but what they say is irrelevant to me. As stated before, a Club protects its interests and that field was a serious injury waiting to happen. I don’t see any problem with letting UEFA know that.

And it should be noted that Pep has been calling for better pitch conditions for some time. It’s an ongoing issue. At the latest event at Elite Coach Forum, Pep was backed by both Sir Alex Ferguson and Arsene Wenger (of course). This pitch just gives him more ammunition in that saga.

That all said the first leg is over. Milan executed their game plan very well and for that, you have to commend them. (Good ol’ Seedorf’s still got it!) The pitch isn’t the reason we couldn’t finish, nor the reason Xavi was so determined to play through the middle. But it wasn’t an non-issue either. In the future, if UEFA continues to allow such fields to be played on — we’ll see some serious injuries. That’s the real complaint.

It’s March and Kansas is winning, which means I have little time for Barça-related thoughts (as you’ll note by the end of this). That should come as little surprise to those who have seen the Jayhawks flame out over the last couple of years to the likes of Northern Iowa and Virginia Commonwealth (average seed for Kansas in those matchups: 1; average seed of opponent: 10) and still I gamely trudge through the rest of the tournament, wondering what if, what if, what if…

With Barça, the what if’s are fewer and farther between at the moment. The year I started watching Barcelona, in 2001, Kansas was eliminated by an Illinois team coached by Bill Self. Illinois was a truly good squad and Kansas, good as they were and good as that team would prove themselves to be with 2 consecutive Final Four runs, was no match. Barça was a relief both in terms of a new sport that I was fast becoming addicted to and a savior from what had become perennial disappointment in teams I saw as talented enough to rise above the fray. Funny then that Barcelona finished 4th in 2000-01 and 2001-02,  6th in 2002-03, and finally came in second to Valencia in 2003-04. It wasn’t until 2004-05 that the team’s first title came to pass for me. Yet there I was, addicted anyway; perhaps I became addicted because of it.

To understand that, perhaps a bit of history: as someone who grew up a Kansas fan in the 1990s (I was 5 in 1988 and have no memory of that trophy win), we were always good and always watchable, but rarely did we do anything other than choke ourselves to death early in the NCAA tournament (example: versus Rhode Island in 1998). Then we made that magical run in 2003, eventually losing in the final to Syracuse and their massive barrage of 3s in the first half that had us down 20 at the break. KU eventually lost by 3 when Michael Lee’s shot was blocked by Hakim Warrick. I hate that play, but it was beautiful. Lee should have pump faked. Then Roy Williams left for UNC and Bill Self, moving from Illinois, rebuilt the Kansas program around his different-style offense. Now we’ve had 8 straight conference titles, 5 conference tournament titles (including 3 straight at one point), and a national championship title. We’re in the Final Four for the 14th time in school history and the 2nd time in the last 9 years.

Super Mario drains an epic 3

The comparison to Barça is pretty good: 3 straight La Liga titles, 2 Champions League titles in 3 years (along with a semifinal), and a Copa del Rey title as well as another final appearance. Since 2003 the number of league titles is 5 and the number of Champions League titles is 3. The question then, is whether or not I should feel entitled to having a good team? No, certainly not, but am I accustomed to having a good team? For sure. In both college basketball and football (soccer), I’m used to having a team that goes deep into tournaments and puts up gaudy numbers against most opponents. But the important thing is that each time they win, each time those stats are posted, I devour them with the same zeal I did when I was 12, when winning a game made me giggle and losing made me tear up a bit, if not outright cry. Now, fortunately, losing only makes me curse and go to bed; winning still makes me a giddy child bouncing off the walls (see me Sunday night, a bundle of stupid nerves gone all haywire).

Perhaps I’m simply outside the Kansas-centric media circus. I don’t know what most KU fans think of the team given that I live some 1,200 miles from Lawrence and haven’t read any KU blogs this season, but when Barça started winning everything in sight, the Catalan media became a one-way street of expectation and delusion. Kansas doesn’t compete with North Carolina, Duke, or Kentucky so much as with Kansas State and Missouri, so it’s against them that we view ourselves. Losing to those rivalry schools is the unacceptable thing, but the tournament rarely (if ever) offers up the opportunity to play out those kinds of grudge matches (which is what makes the Kentucky-Louisville game on Saturday all the more interesting).

Barça-Madrid, on the other hand, is happening with the kind of frequency that tears the universe apart simply because of the heavyweight nature of the encounters. This season’s “Border War” games with Missouri—referred to by me as the hick clásico in an attempt to explain their significance to a futbol fan–had major implications for both the conference title and the tournament seeding—Missouri was, in my opinion, screwed out of a deserved 1 seed based largely on their regular season losses to Kansas State, but that is neither here nor there, especially given that they lost to a 15 seed in the opening round—and because of that there was a lot more gnashing of teeth and lighting strikes attributed to the other side. Were Kansas and Missouri to face each other 4 times in the span of 2 weeks, I believe we would all find ourselves face-to-face with the End of Days. Especially if it took place at the same time as a clásico 4-bagger.

Without that marathon against Madrid, those 4 matches in what I think was 3 days (given that I think I existed solely during those matches, perhaps it was only 7 consecutive hours of insanity), it would be a different world. Instead, we are engaged in a Cold War-style competition where every mistake is not a mistake, but rather an advantage given to a rival cast in the role of depraved war monger. That tenor, that “we must kill to survive” attitude, is slowly gutting everyone associated with the club and everything the club stands for. I’m never going to claim that I’m completely innocent of it—see my Clasico Week insanity—but the season-long pressure on us all to care more and more, scream louder and louder, eventually leads to some sort of line being crossed and the fan base turning from cheering crowd to zombie attack horde. That, in turn, leads to expectation that if the fans are consuming as much opponent flesh as possible, so too should the team that is being “supported” via Internet flame wars (not guilty) and constant harassment of local bars via unruly chanting and guttural cursing (definitely guilty).

All of that is why I’ve tried to be more “team-centered” in my last few writings. It doesn’t matter what Jose Mourinho does [inside his evil lair of doom!], it matters what Pep Guardiola [and his shiny knights!] creates on the field. It matters whether the team is playing beautifully and sticking to the principles our philosopher-in-chief has laid out. The results are important, of course, because that’s why we play the game, but the form matters as much as the substance. It’s not just on the field, however, that that is true: it is true of us fans as well. Our substance, our form, our approach to the game is important and to cast our lot with the dark side just to beat Madrid in the short term is a fairly short-sighted goal. Yes, we all want to win the league, but at what cost? Some will say at any cost, but those who go that route are as shameful as the Bernabeu boo birds, as cowardly in a lot of ways as the current Madrid technical and playing staff with their vaya atracos and ¿por qués?

To enjoy this group of stars at the Camp Nou, to watch them and feel happy is, actually, the point of the whole thing. To worry about an opponent is to mistake the game’s rivalry for an actual rivalry on the ground. We are not fighting duels with madridistas, as much as some of you would claim to want to; we are playing a game against them on a field. If Mourinho wins a title in Spain, Franco will not rise from his grave and anoint him Regent of Cataluña any more than a Guardiola-led victory will result in the Free State of Catalunya breaking from the coast of Spain and sailing through the Mediterranean on a Voyage of the Dawn Treader type mission.

In fact, we are not playing against them on a field. We are sitting in bars, on our couches, at our absolute closest we are in the stands waving silly banners about trading smooches for Messi’s shirt. I believe in this club, I bought into the UNICEF logo and mes que un club even though it was a marketing scheme because, well, I like UNICEF and the idea that my sports teams can do more than just play a game on a field. They can make the world a better place.

Kansas was, and is, a way of communicating. It was the way I talked to my father throughout my adolescence, in those awkward father-son relationship days when “Did you see the stats from yesterday’s game?” meant “I love you.” I am now mature enough to simply say the latter instead of the former, but the former still brings quiet joy to my life. Barça too is a way of communicating: I spoke of Messi, Ronaldinho, Xavi, and Eto’o throughout my travels in Latin America and while forging friendships in the US. Barça also happens to play the way that brings back memories of children strutting with a ball in the Congo, joy in their expressions, the name of Diego Maradona always on their lips when they pulled off a fancy move. It was 1991, after all. While that is certainly a romanticized version of their lives—and mine—in an impoverished region of the world subjugated by a brutal dictator, the simple pleasure of playing a game and speaking through it to millions of others is too wonderful, too good, to ever let go of.

The expectations of a single season are dwarfed by the brilliance of the whole history. The failure in one part is the shade beneath the mountain of success in another part. To forget that Barcelona is playing at a level you will never see again is to look the gift horse directly in the mouth. And then punch it. To watch simply for the trophies, to best another team, for the fulfillment of expectations, is, I think, a shadow of what can be achieved through sport. The club itself is full of diversity and that is exactly as it should be. Trophies are, as I have said, the purpose of the team, but they are not, I don’t think, the purpose of the fan.

It is fun and a worthy intellectual pursuit to dissect and discuss the tactical innovations, the transfers, and the results throughout the season and over the long, long offseason (it looks so short on a calendar!), yet it is an altogether different thing to forget to put that away on game day. It is fun to be right and frustrating to be wrong about what Pep should do with the team, but the cold negativity of those who aren’t handed manitas on a plate is, frankly, disturbing. The number of scornful attacks from FCB’s quarters has risen sharply as Mourinho has become the focal point of a negativity campaign he is no doubt chuckling about. How the mighty Barça has fallen to the depths of its neighbors, he must be saying through his grins.

Don’t get me wrong, I love to have my over-the-top screamfests when it suits my moods, but perhaps its the perspective that maybe none of this matters enough to burst a blood vessel in my head that has calmed me down of late. Or maybe it’s the age, the frequency of posting, the introspective nature of this whole gig. I don’t know, but more and more I wonder why I should bother being a fan of anything that doesn’t bring me complete joy. And more and more, I think that blowouts are boring unless they’re against rivals. The Sporting match was elevating, in a sense, as was the tough-it-out of Mallorca. And certainly Kansas’ win over North Carolina on Sunday was anything but an easy victory that had me over the moon.

Mainly I want to remember the Guardiola years, however much longer they last, celebrating the simple fun of watching the team play. I don’t want to screech about referees or opposition players incapable of remaining within the laws of the game (that latter part is where RFEF has failed miserably to deal with things). I don’t want to end up rocking back and forth in a corner when we’ve got another 4 clasicos to live through. I don’t want to hate Madrid, I don’t want to get angry, I don’t want to feel insulted; I want to watch this game because it’s brilliant and enjoyable. I want to smile and have a good time with my friends.

(MESSI IS OVERRATED

Now that I have your attention: if you wish to participate in the BFB book giveaway, please post your predictions on the previous thread/post and NOT this one. We would like all predictions to be on the same thread. Thank you.)

Aww, yeah!

It would be unfair to skip Mallroca game and go straight to the Milan one, so some thoughts:

- Yay! Three points!

- Wonderful game from Barca under a lot of pressure. Every game is essentially a final and we were left back-less against a team who got 78% of their wins at home.

- Pique says hello to all his critics. For what it’s worth I think some misgivings were justified — his lapses in concentration and judgment could have been very costly for us in the past — but most were hyperbolic IMO. And I’m not saying this in hindsight, mind you. Absolutely crucial goal at a time where he really needed to step up his game, like champions do. Keep up the good form, Geri!

- Busi.

- That pitch was a cabbage field. Players slipping and sliding like Bambi on Ice. Poor Iniesta miscontrolled more footballs this game than in his entire career, I bet.

-That said, Andres and Messi never hide do they? Thiago sent off and both demand the ball, try to make things work under pressure. Love it.

- Mascherano.

- I’ve done Mallorca a bit of a disservice. As most games featuring Mallorca were tight, one goal games, I had expected a bit of a dirty game from them with overtly defensive tactics. I admit it. But they had some real flair going forward with nice interplay between forwards. Their transition offensive was particularly impressive. Luckily for us, their end product left much to be desired. I’d say that’s the reason why they’ve scored so little goals – their finishing, not for the lack of trying.

Onto Milan

So I was rewatching the November Milan game at the San Siro (that’s what I do on my Sunday afternoons) and I originally wanted to tweet my thoughts about it, but it would have been far too long for 140 characters and flood everyone’s timelines so I’ve decided to put into a post.

I don’t consider myself a tactics buff, though I certainly enjoy reading such posts. In fact, it sort of scares me as there’s so much I don’t know, understand, or see. The below turned out much more tactics heavy than I originally had in mind, so if there are any mistakes I’d love it if you let me know.

Getting to it

It’s been awhile so I’ll give you some context coming into the Milan match:

- We still had Villa.
- We didn’t have Iniesta due to a hamstring injury.
- Alves was suspended due to accumulation of yellow cards.
- Adriano was injured. The sky was blue.
- Alexis was coming back from the injury he suffered against Sociedad.
- Barca only needed a draw to advance.

Naturally, the formation we used was heavily influenced by the above. It should be noted that Pep and the team were still experimenting with and re-introducing the 3-4-3. [Interestingly enough, it was also the match before that loss against Getafe.]

Our lineup was a 3-4-3 at the beginning of the game: VV – Puyol – Mascherano – Abidal; Busi, Keita, Xavi, Thiago; Cesc, Messi, Villa.

Something like this

Cesc was at false 9 while Messi was moved to the right and Villa was on his usual left wing.

As you remember, the result of this was very much mixed. Offensively, we could have scored at least three goals in the first half alone; there were a lot of chances created – so no problems there. The main issue was defensively where the team struggled to space itself properly on the pitch. The starting eleven included a lot of players who were used to playing in the centre (or middle) of the pitch.

Watching this match, it was very clear how much trouble Barca has when Alves isn’t on the pitch, or, worded another way, how much Alves brings to the team. Cuenca wasn’t promoted at this point; as noted earlier Iniesta was injured; Alexis and Pedro were both just returning from injury and started on the bench. (Full bench by the way: Pinto, Pique, Maxwell, Fontas, JDS, Pedro, Alexis). This meant we had no player to play off the right wing to spread the pitch and create additional width. In the end Messi was stationed there, like he used to be during the 08-09 season and the seasons prior.

Now Messi will create danger no matter where you put him – he’s that good. However as he is developing now, putting Messi on the right flank (on the wing in general) hampers his ability to influence the game (vs. playing him closer to the middle). Specifically against Milan, because so many central players played in the starting XI, play went through the middle for the majority of the game, especially in the first half. Messi, seeing this, pinched in centrally.

This left Barca without a man on the right flank (defensively or offensively) outside Puyol, consequentially giving Milan a lot of space to attack from and virtually no threat to defend against. Big problem.

For much of the first half and a good chunk of the second, what ended up happening was Villa was doing his job and staying wide on the left but that effectively took him out of the game, as Messi and Cesc pinched in and were playing through the middle like the rest of the team. And because there was such an overload in the middle, Busi in particular was unable to contribute much.

What should have been something like the formation above ended up being something like this:

Barca Clustered in the Middle

And that spacing issue was what lead to Milan’s first goal. Seedorf took advantage of the space on right that had Puyol having to to defend both Seedorf and the significant space in front of him.

Image Courtesy of Euler

Ibra intelligently got between Puyol and Mascherano to score.

Image Courtesy of Euler

So why are you being such a Debbie Downer? What the fudge?

The great news is the above has largely worked itself out. Barca has learned to space themselves on the pitch significantly better. That’s the whole point of this post. It was so surprising to see the contrast between this game and the game we played yesterday.

Not only is our form better but with the way we play 3-4-3 now, the defensive system issue that we had against Milan — slow transition from offense to defense when we lose the ball (aka transitional defense) — is minimized as we’ve learned to space ourselves out better. This is not to say we’ll suddenly score a manita against Milan on Wednesday or anything along those lines; I’m merely pointing out the massive improvements the squad has made over the course of the season.

And while a lot of it is down to the incredible players we have, just as much is down to Pep Guardiola.

In a lot of ways, you can see the vision that Pep has. When Mascherano played right back against Valencia, to many it was a move that made no sense. Why experiment a DM-cum-CB at right back in such an important fixture? It had me baffled at the time as well.

But now as the season has gone on, it has become clearer – in a 3-4-3 there needs to be a player that plays at right side of the three man defense. As it is, only two players have that ability in the current Barca side: Alves and Puyol. While the former is ultra reliable in terms of fitness and form, the latter has sadly become more injury prone in the last season and a half. Fittingly enough, the same can be said for the left backs of the team [former being Abidal, latter being Adriano].

The complex part comes here: with the unfortunate situation with his liver, Abidal is out for the season (and possibly for duration of his career). This is, of course, incredibly saddening from a human perspective but it’s also a big blow tactically. Abi is most likely the most important defender tactically for Barca with his ability to play both LB and LCB (incredibly rare in itself, rarer still to find real quality).

The good thing for Barca is that Adriano is still there as a back up and a fantastic player to have but he is of course injury prone. Still in the Barca squad, Puyol can play LB as can Fontas.

Though injuries are hard to predict it is probable that Pep had thought at the beginning of the season: In a situation where we need Puyol to play on the left side of a three man defense, who will be able on the right? Mascherano indeed has the intelligence, positional sense, and skill to play there — but he needs to be played there and have the time to gain experience and adjust against quality opposition.

And there lies the beauty of this Barca team: The talent of Mascherano is such that he doesn’t need a large sample of games to get a hold of it – the greatness of Pep is that he can see the potential and have the gumption to do it.

Adjustments and Improvements.

You can see Pep learning from his experiments, how he makes his adjustments to the issues that arise from those experiments. That is the most underrated part of Pep for me (putting aside how underrated he is in general). He does things so he can learn from them. If something fails, he doesn’t just ditch the idea – no, it’s revisited, analyzed, and adjusted so it can work next time. Masche didn’t excel at right back, but he returns as a more capable defender on the right side of a three man defense.

Team in La Liga and Europe have constantly been adjusting themselves to better compete against Barca. That’s to be expected. Pep’s main test was to readjust – to keep the gap between us and everyone else. Because if you stand still while you’re ahead, others will catch up and pass you eventually.

As aptly noted by Euler on Twitter, Pep starts with a initial idea that becomes more refined as the season goes on. This is true for both formations (which have become more flexible) and player positions (which become more refined). For example, Cesc’s best position isn’t at false 9. That was obvious against Milan in the November game. But it was important to play him there so that becomes clear and adjust his position on the team accordingly. As you experiment and adjust and readjust players in different positions, you’re left with a significant improved draft, or in some cases, a finished product.

A big problem with a 3-4-3 is there is no spare defender, which a 4-3-3 obviously has, and that leads to problems. By experimenting with multiple formations early on in the season, Barca is now able to seamlessly shift between them over a coarse of a single match without a substitution. Which is remarkable. (Something they had trouble with early on in the season). It’s especially impressive to note they’ve been able to limit the effect of the trade offs that come with those formation changes. Against Mallorca there were two formations the team changed between that I saw: 3-4-3 and 4-3-3. Busi operated as another CB or a sweeper in front of the defense depending on the situation.

On a similar note, to me, Pep’s tactics are as flexible as his players. It’s why he’s constantly searching for players that can play multiple positions, rather than just sign a single player for a specific position. If you sign flexible, intelligent players, it makes it easier to readjust. Different formations and positions can be introduced and those players can adapt to those formation changes. It was for these reasons that Cesc and Alexis were signed – they’re not just great in one position, but good in many. (This principal has its own trade offs of course; we’re feeling the effects of one this season).

And inside the squad, though the season is not over, it’s particularly important to note how much Keita has improved in the DM position. It was said earlier in the season that Keita being able to play DM and play it well would have a significant impact on our season. For one, it would allowed Busi to gain time and experience at CB. He’s stepped up and done it. Hats off, Keiteee!

Other Talking Points:

- I only highlighted one issue we had against Milan. Fatigue was a large issue then as well, one that we still have now.

-Lack of pace at the back might also be a problem on Wednesday too. It’s extremely likely we’ll see Puyol at LB, though how flexible and improved the team is, it doesn’t really seem to bother me as much as it probably should.

- Alexis in particular will have a large impact on Wednesday’s game. When he came on, he caused Milan fits. And that was when he was just coming back from his Sociedad injury.

- Milangate Part 2: it’s been noted many times but the team won’t be able to return to Barcelona until Friday because of a general strike in Spain. At least there’s no volcano and it’s after the game this time.

-On a youth team note: 16-year old Jean Marie Dongou scored his first –and the winning — goal for Barca B yesterday. Remember that name.