So, Bayern beat Barcelona fair and square and in the process condemned them to the worst ever aggregate defeat in the semifinals of any Champions league season to date. What is weird regarding this whole scenario is the happiness it has brought to fans around the world. Barring the faithful Culers who are writhing with the agony of the annihilation caused to their beloved club, there seems to be a general sense of collective joy flowing around the world and it seems to be sarcastically mocking the abject failure of the so called ‘tiki-taka’ system which Barcelona became so proficient at.
So, is it called for? No. Is it the beginning of the end of Barcelona? Certainly not. I’m not one of those ardent Barcelona fans who proclaim that there blood is blue and red instead of red, nor am I the greatest advocate of the “Messi is God” chant . But I am a football fan, a purist who loves the game in it’s most beautiful and simple form, and love them or hate them, but in the past decade or so, no team has played football as beautifully and as wonderfully as Barcelona. It has been a privilege rather than a treat to watch them play. They have not only provided a new meaning to the term ‘beautiful football’, but have gone a long way in making the observers realize what it would have been had they seen Cruyff’s Holland of the 70s or Dalglish’s Liverpool of the 80s, the two previous teams who epitomized the pass and move virtue among their play most effectively.
Watching them play, one can’t help but notice the ease with which the ball finds one Barcelona player after another, the insane accuracy displayed by the passing of Andres Iniesta and the brilliance of the little Argentinian ahead who scores goals just as easily as Gayle scores sixes. You know, you admire a team when being a neutral supporter; their play makes you gasp for your breath, their goal makes you clap like a buffoon and their general movement on the pitch makes you feel as if you’re in a Mozart concert, slowly building towards a high that will leave you awe-struck. You may abuse me or find me to be a fool, but yes, I’ve felt those strong emotions watching the Catalans dismantle opposition teams one after the other over the years (although I’ve only ever heard a few of Mozart’s symphonies, so that comparison might be debatable).
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