Is this thing on?
I suppose it is, but then again it isn't an issue of whether it's on or not, but whether anyone is seeing it. You know what they say about the tree falling in the woods...But this is not a place for hopelessness or cynicism, this is a blog dedicated to the mighty FC Barcelona. My name is Alex. I am a relative newcomer to soccer, having been a close viewer for just over two years (that is, I am American). I am graduating from the University of Delaware with a Bachelor's degree in History (Political Science minor) this year, which means, of course, that I am scrambling from career counselor to career counselor considering how to get a job in the too-near future. One consultant recommended that if I would like to become a journalist (one of several options, none of which by any means are slam-dunks), then given my reputation for writing, I would "make an excellent candidate for starting a blog"--her exact words.
So here I am, no longer cluttering up other Barcelona blogs with lengthy comments, striking out on my own with a blog to point potential employers to. My aim is to create a blog that focuses on the play of the team, rather than the news and gossip that fills up the weekdays in between games. Here I will break down my view of every game, analyzing individual performances, team tactics, successes and failures, explaining why we lost and exploding when we won. And so, it is my pleasure to begin by writing about an exceptional performance from the world's greatest more-than-a-club...in the next post.
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But first, let me begin by saying how proud I am to be a fan of FC Barcelona, and how lucky I feel. When I began watching the beautiful game, I was attracted to Ronaldinho--in his final year with mes-que-un-club. That year, the then-world's best and most popular player rarely appeared, a situation that perfectly illustrated the situation. The team was knocked out of the Copa del Rey after a shock 4-0 loss to Getafe after going up three goals at home, pummeled by Real Madrid in the Bernabeu, and, after giving their best display of the year against Manchester United only to garner a 0-0 draw, gave up an early goal at Old Trafford and fizzled out of the Champion's League semi-final. Frank Rijkaard, who had given the club two great years under the majesty of players like Ronaldinho and Deco, left the team under an ignominious cloud of shame, having apparently "lost the dressing room". Suspensions, mediocre defense, injuries to star players characterized the season. The President, Joan Laporta (but you kow that), had a vote-of-no-confidence that he only marginally won. It was a bad year to begin following a team, especially when Rijkaard's replacement turned out to be an ex-player who, though loved by the club faithful, had never coached a first-team before.
I watched every game of last season--every one, every minute. After the first five or six weeks of the season, I began to feel an expectation creep into me. The pinache, the style, the sheer efficiency that the team was playing with gave me a quiet assurance: my team was destined for great things. Barca was hammering teams, scoring three, four, five, six goals per game. At the other end, they were conceding two, one, or zero goals. And in the middle, they were keeping the ball like it was a practice session. Teams couldn't score, they never had the ball...Barca did all the scoring. The ball was constantly in the opposition's box, and players were scoring for ridiculous fun. They played a complete game, the way soccer was meant to be played--and, they made me fall in love with the game as a newcomer. The way they attacked was unparalleled--easy passes, hard passes, creativity, movement, even the occasional individualism--they played profoundly. On the other end--and I came to appreciate this later on--everyone was tracking back, disciplined, taking back and keeping the ball with grit and endless energy. Week-in, week-out.
I could go on for hours, detailing games I will never forget. 2-3 Osasuna. 5-0 Deportivo. 1-6 Sporting Gijon. 1-6 Atletico Madrid. 2-6 Real Madrid. 2-2 Real Betis. 4-0 Lyon. 1-1 Chelsea. 2-0 Manchester United. I am not looking up the results...these are the ones I remember. When someone reminds me, I remember other vintage performances. Toward the end of the year, a commentator watching the game compared them to the best Brazil team from the 1970s--a team I have never seen, except in highlights. Of course, they went on to win six trophies, every competition possible, for the first time ever, by any team.
Valdes, Alves, Puyol, Pique, Abidal, Yaya Toure, Xavi, Iniesta, Messi, Henry, Eto'o--that lineup will forever remain burned into my mind, as well as the rest--Pinto, Sylvinho, Marquez, Caceres, Sergio Busquets, Keita, Pedro, Bojan, Gudjohnsen, Hleb (ahem, last and least, but he was there). Perhaps the best team I will ever see, and I was blessed enough to see its journey from start to finish.
Of course, FC Barcelona, at the moment, is still the best team in the world, and I hope what I document from this point onward is not its precipitous decline (though statistically, it must be), but its plateau as the best team in the world. Mes que un club.
My first match post, on Getafe, Feb. 6, 2010, next...
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