Ruthless Barca close in on being greatest ever
The slogan used to refer to their special status as the heartbeat of Catalan national feeling, but these days it has altogether more ambitious overtones. The birth of the global television marketplace has coincided with Barcelona’s rise on the field. In their imaginations they have transcended mere regional significance and come to represent something like the spirit of freedom made flesh.
The grandiose self-image flows from the uninhibited and irrepressible style of football that has become their trademark, but not everything about Barcelona is open, spontaneous and free. They are also a ruthless corporation who, in tandem with their counterparts in Madrid, have sucked the competitive life out of the Spanish league through their greedy hogging of TV revenues.
Between them, the superclubs absorb 45% of La Liga’s total broadcast income, ensuring that nobody else can sustain meaningful resistance. From the perspective of all the other clubs in Spain, the Barcelona-Madrid duopoly looks less like a rivalry than an oppressive partnership.
Much of what is unattractive about Barcelona is rooted in the gap between the romantic idea they have of themselves as underdogs, and the reality of their position as the biggest and meanest dogs around. They want to have it both ways.
Last week, a club director criticised Chelsea’s signing of Fernando Torres for £50m. “We would not even consider such a deal,” said Raul Sanlehhi, apparently forgetting that Barcelona spent nearly €70m on Zlatan Ibrahimovic in 2009, and another €40m on David Villa last August.
For years Barcelona congratulated themselves on not dirtying their colours with a commercial sponsor, but next season will see Unicef relegated to the back of their shirt to make way for the logo of the Qatar Foundation, who will pay the club €30m a season for the privilege.
In place of the old tradition of the sponsorless shirt, a new tradition has sprung up of gracelessness in defeat: whenever anyone gets the better of Barcelona they squeal about “anti-football”, as though sides who know how to defend are somehow breaking the rules.
Arsenal fans have more cause than most to resent Barcelona after the Spanish club’s long and disgraceful pursuit of Cesc Fabregas. The most irritating aspect of that from Arsenal’s perspective was the arrogant sense of entitlement displayed by Barcelona during a negotiation that was not really worthy of the name.
Because Cesc grew up at Barcelona’s academy, they apparently believed that Arsenal had a moral obligation to stand aside and let him leave for far less than he was worth. Fortunately for Arsenal, their healthy finances allowed them to remind Barcelona that the usual market rules applied even to them: if they wanted Cesc, he would cost a lot more than £29m.
Yet if institutional smugness and hypocrisy ensures there is a lot to dislike about Barcelona, it is difficult to remember that when you watch them play. Even those who temperamentally support the underdog find themselves willing this team to succeed.
Everyone enjoys watching the mighty brought low, but every so often we also need the greatest teams to prove they really are the greatest.
Barcelona have won two of the last five Champions Leagues, they won all six trophies they competed for in 2009, and their key players have won the European Championship and World Cup with Spain.
It is hard to make the case that they have not yet fulfilled their potential. But this season they have taken their play to another level.
Last week, they broke Real Madrid’s 50-year-old record of 15 consecutive wins in the Spanish league. Leo Messi has scored 40 goals in 34 matches and the team’s cumulative goal difference stands at 112-23.
They are almost certain to win the Spanish league and in the process set new records for the most points, the most goals, the fewest conceded, and so on. No matter what happens, they will be remembered as the best team of their generation.
That might be enough for Barca’s eminence grise Johan Cruyff, who has always insisted that Holland did not actually lose the 1974 World Cup because they are what everyone remembers about that tournament. Yet nobody really believes that Holland 1974 were the greatest of all time.
That is the glory within Barcelona’s reach, but first they need to crown their season of superlatives with Europe’s biggest prize.
YOU have to feel sorry for James McCarthy after a week when his two managers spoke about him at great length without making a lot of sense. He has stated his commitment to Ireland many times and proved it with his willingness to endure months of abuse from Scottish fans who were angry that he had declared for the Republic. He has given no public indication that he ever considered switching back to Scotland.
Yet this week Giovanni Trapattoni drew a comparison between McCarthy and Stephen Ireland and suggested that his agent was running his life, while Roberto Martinez claimed that McCarthy has not yet made up his mind which country he wants to play for.
At least Martinez’s statement makes sense from his own point of view: he wants McCarthy available for Wigan’s relegation battle. What Trapattoni is playing at is anyone’s guess.
The problem now is Martinez’s reluctance to make McCarthy available might give Trapattoni a convenient excuse to keep leaving him out. If all this ends up costing us the most talented young player we’ve had since Stephen Ireland, we will end up where we never thought we’d be: pining for the enlightened rule of Steve Staunton.
SKY’S guest pundit Mike Summerbee’s cranky reaction to City’s defeat in the Manchester derby was always going to become a hit with gloating Manchester United fans, but it was also amusing to many neutrals. Many poured scorn on Summerbee for claiming that City had “dominated” possession when the statistics showed United had edged it. Yet Summerbee’s main point was even more ridiculous. He told us that City were gradually catching up on United. “One day we’ll come here and take them apart,” he threatened. You would rather hope so. Nobody is impressed by gradual progress when your squad players cost £20m.
For City to be out of the title race in February is a dismal failure. They badly missed Nigel de Jong on Saturday, but analysing the season as a whole it is plain that their team is stuffed with players who are not quite good enough.
That City were even in the race until now is all thanks to Carlos Tevez, who is liable to leave at any moment. Roberto Mancini is proving to a Premier League audience what Inter supporters already knew: he is no Jose Mourinho.
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