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Lionel Messi

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Second halves are rarely at the midpoint of anything. You know they are upon you not by a calendar, but by a set of unseen cracks in your very fiber and standing that seem to widen all at once — for a man, for instance, it’s the pretty girl who now looks right through you, the sudden back spasm, the name of that childhood sports hero suddenly no longer on the tip of your tongue. You can survive a second half for a while, even thrive, but there is nothing to prepare you for that first gust of chilly wind, the blow to your confidence delivered by the quick loss of things you took for granted.

For Barça 2009-10, we can now declare the real first half of the season over — the unbeaten one, the largely injury-free one, the one in which we were serene about the smallish gap between ourselves and our perpetually fretful archrival. (You would thought that 5 points was 50, so unconcerned did everyone — except Madrid — seem about the rest of the season.) Players are now going down like Columbus has brought smallpox upon them: Now Xavi is out for 15 days and Keita a month — throw those logs on the pyre along with the bodies of Yaya Toure, Dani Alves, Abidal and Chygrynskyi. The lead is down to 2 points after yesterday’s universally foreseen loss to Atletico — a 6-6-9 team that shockingly dominated Barca in midfield and made Carles Puyol look about 75 years old on their counterattacks. Phil Ball says neither Barca nor Real would be “suicidal” if they lost La Liga, so long as they won the Champions League…but if you thought Messi cried after failing to defend the Copa del Rey, they’re going to have to build an ark to navigate the sea of tears if Real’s smash-and-grab spree is vindicated in the end over the patient tutelage of La Masia. Death Star is in our rear-view mirror again, and gaining fast.

So one defeat can turn a major chord minor; yes, it can. Which is not to say that Barça shouldn’t have won the match — they should have, handily. The one difference between last year and this year hides in plain sight: goal scoring. 68 after 22 matches last year; 53 after 22 this year. Goals came in swarms last year, in Everlasting Gobstoppers. The chances are there again this year, not quite as many…but the strikers are now missing; Pedro blew about four yesterday, and Ibra fumbled his customary two or three. As the old saying goes, strikers are paid to miss; but not this much, and not over the course of a season. We’ll have to wait for a new second half for that to change.

(Image credit: piterart/Flickr through a Creative Commons license.)

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As a Barca fan, of course I adore this animated pass-shot-goal graphic feature from ESPN Soccernet of Xavi's equalizing goal last night, a mesmerizing hymn to the innate superiority of the Barca way (and also something of an analog to the bullfight) — the chronic, monk-patient triangles; the fluttery, midfield prestidigitation, with increasingly close-in passes of the cape; the Catalan dedication to ornate figuration at the expense of almost everything else; and finally the estocada, the sudden sword-thrust through the aorta, in this case from Messi to Xavi via a gorgeous one-time by Abidal, whom I underestimated as a crosser. (What would a Drogba goal look like in this feature? Would the screen shatter?)

Too bad this was really the only good combo in an otherwise pretty mediocre and occasionally utterly dangerous display by our heroes, who probably should have lost, given a couple of blown bunnies by Kiev and an outrageous handball by Pique in the first half that stopped a breakaway and definitely should have been a red and was one of many big wanking red flags.

Group F was, if not the group of death Sir Alex thought, certainly the Group of Numb Extremities and Slightly Blue Lips. (Let's hope the first knockout isn't CSKA Moscow, given the way the boys play in cold weather.) The good news: Barca is through and top-seeded, despite Pique and Ibrahimovic being awful, Iniesta and Puyol and Keita being spectral, and Messi being, once again despite the goals and assist, pretty subpar. (He's in doubt for this weekend.) The bad news? All the above minus the first clause, plus Victor Valdez up to his old shaky tricks again. Just another night at the opera, as this year is turning out. Ibrahimovic did almost break the goalie's jaw on a free kick, which was fun.

Chelsea and Barca have been made 7/2 co-favorites to win the Champions League. You'll have to get behind Tony Cascarino if you want a piece of that action, I'm sure. Draw is December 18.

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Deportivo la Coruna 1-3 Barcelona: The Last Pass

by Bob Lalasz on December 6, 2009

in Barca, Football

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Has Leo Messi plateaued? Everyone is thinking and almost writing that, while also protesting that it's almost churlish to think and write that, as they pull up short and blame Maradona's mind games. Messi's second in La Liga in goals scored — despite Maradona, despite exhaustion…isn't that everything? He scored twice yesterday and brilliantly dummied a pass that went to Ibrahimovic for the third. Case closed.

But he's no longer the king of the team, and his play speaks of insecurity over that (relative) fall. When he doesn't pass — which is even more frequent than last year, when he flagrantly ignored Samuel Eto'o so many times it looked like one of those unspeaking marriages where the parties use a son (probably Bojan) as a communication go-between for 30 years; when he dribbles into six defenders like a crazy gyroscope, wobbling through hits until someone finally steps in and steals his lunch…he looks no longer artistic but desperate, the boy at the adult party who doesn't understand why playing the same magic trick over and over isn't still charming everyone. When he does pass, it can be brilliant, and it can also be a buffoonish turnover, especially in midfield. The Barca fan keeps waiting for everything to click back into place, for the stars to rotate back half an inch and his crazy runs to once again yield their impossible and yet inevitable magic. Time passes for everyone — but even a 21-year-old Messi? Still, see the first goal yesterday in the video above — a thing of impossible, whirling, deadly beauty…

But it's Ibrahimovic's team now — yes, because of the El Clasico goal, but also because the game is so clearly on his boot when he has the ball. As Brian Phillips has pointed out, he stops better than anyone in the game. He stops, considers, calculates…then passes — almost always passes, and it is always the most creative, the most expressive, and the best possible pass, the mathematician an artist in the way that he solves the proof, the Way suddenly opening itself with extreme simplicity, his previous flamboyance at Inter now elegant, unadorned necessity. Our mouths agape. Who wouldn't be insecure around this? (Thierry Henry is practically invisible.) When Ibra did score yesterday, he smiled sheepishly, almost embarrassed at the largesse. He looks happy. Which, should it continue, means Barca always has a chance.

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Barcelona 1-0 Real Madrid: Sprites and Elves

by Bob Lalasz on November 29, 2009

in Barca, Digital, Football

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You never know which Dani Alves is going to show up — the good elf whose free kicks are sprinkled with fairy dust, or the bad elf whose crosses sail into orbit (or dent the Stamford Bridge Shed trying), who flops and whines and collects yellows like baseball cards. But in a match of boy sprites (Messi, Xavi, Kaka — even Ronaldo seemed a little smaller, just a bit more feminized than usual), it was the mischievous good elf Dani who finally slew the dragon, making Ibra appear like the right call after all. That and Puyol, putting his body in front of every bullet fired. He can’t run, but he sure can catch up.

Seriously, though, Real looked very dangerous for about 20 minutes, and then disappeared. Manuel Pellegrini whipped out an Arsene Wenger protractor during the press conference to prove that Real was the better team. Barca will certainly need more than two points lead going back to Madrid in April — but ask Messi, Pique, and Abidal which team blew more bunnies in front of the goal mouth. It was Real at its best this year versus Barca at not nearly its best, and if you can’t get the result under those circumstances you should not say anything at all.

BTW: New hashtag on Twitter: #fillinginforray, started by The Run of Play. Because Ray Hudson was apparently replaced by someone whose brain had been completely hollowed out by bovine spongiform encephalopathy and then stuffed like a turducken with cliches. And he didn’t mention crickets once, perhaps because the game was too important. But not too important for GOL TV to show us their 30-second “exclusive camera shots” of players warming up along the sidelines while the action was going on.

(Image credit: foxspain/Flickr through a Creative Commons license.)

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Soccer Line of the Year

by Bob Lalasz on November 21, 2009

in Barca, Football

"He's running like he's got 1,000 crickets in his pants."  — Ray Hudson on Lionel Messi.

(Only Ray knows how did the crickets got from singing Messi's praises from the trees to inside his pants…)

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