Seven Goals, Countless Narratives, And A League Title
Sunday's Clasico served up a treat.
This is a guest article by Chirag Sharatkumar. Subscribe to Sideline Stories.
You could not possibly have scripted a better end to LaLiga’s title race than what we were treated to on Sunday evening. You could try, but you would have been forgiven if the task seems impossible. This game had just about everything: goals, seven of them to be exact; chances, too many to count; and narratives, perhaps even more so. It finished 4-3, a fitting end to an incredible game and Barcelona deserved winners.
This is a clash that will forever be billed as a final, even when it might not be, though this time around it certainly felt that way. One game, winner takes all. Forget the Copa del Rey, forget the Supercopa, forget the Bernabeu, which already feels like too long ago to remember.
The stakes could not have been higher. Barcelona win and the league is effectively theirs, wrapped and ready with three games to go. Madrid win, however, and the door that was left slightly ajar gets kicked down completely, everything to play for in a league that never stops giving.
But it is, in the end, Barcelona who not only triumph but trail-blaze. This wasn’t the demolition we were expecting, but it was in some ways even more damaging. It has been said time and again, and deservedly so, that this Barcelona side are immense, brilliant, free-flowing, high-scoring, and everything else the lyrical wax permits.
They are and that is what makes them so special. But perhaps, what makes them even more special is not what they are now, but rather who they were and how they got here. This time last season, Barcelona were in a state of complete disarray. Xavi had left, been begged back, and pushed out once again. There was zero money to spend, a hole left to get out from, and little hope in sight.
Enter one Hansi Flick. What a difference a coach can make. Flick has revitalised, re-birthed, and reshaped the very same Barcelona squad into a group of serial winners, and their football is the only necessary evidence. Four goals in Sunday’s Clasico; Eric Garcia, Lamine Yamal and Raphinha all netting to put Barcelona on top and out of reach, and 95 and counting in the league this season.
But more than the goals, the dangerous but devilish high-line, or the ease with which Barcelona dismantle their opponents, particularly Real Madrid, perhaps what is most impressive, what this Barcelona side most needed, what past Barcelona sides had completely lost, was the psychology. For years now, Barcelona have lacked a mental edge, that inner steel to win when it matters the most, and their numerous prolific Champions League exits only fuelled that narrative.
But Flick and Co have restored something in them. After their heartbreaking loss to Inter Milan in the Champions League last week, those same vulnerabilities would have quietly creeped back in. After Kylian Mbappe quickly slotted home twice inside the first 15 minutes on Sunday, they threatened to come roaring back. But this is not the Barcelona of old. The cracks that once existed have been filled and the team that once crumbled has been strengthened.
They fought back, as they always do, and pulled one, then two, then three, and finally four back. VAR intervened to deny them more but the game was theirs, even when it wasn’t. Raphinha added the fourth with authority on the stroke of half-time, sealing the contest and landing the knockout punch to secure the league title and bragging rights they’ve so keenly longed for.
But you see, football is a funny sport and parallels are but one of its cruelest mirrors. Where this time last season, Barcelona were bankrupt, broken, and bereft of belief, Real Madrid were, well, winning everything again and again.
Add Mbappe to the mix and this season was supposed to be theirs for the taking. But again, football is funny and things rarely work out the way we expect them to. This Clasico was, in effect, the league summed up in 90 minutes. Madrid had flashes of brilliance; they were even good in some moments, albeit lucky in others. But Barcelona were ruthless, efficient, resilient, even when they weren’t.
Mbappe tucked away his early penalty with ease, firmly erasing any lingering ghosts from Anfield and San Mames earlier this season, and added a second in quick time, as if to make a statement. He was caught offside eight times in the reverse fixture as Barcelona’s new high line took him, Madrid and the whole of Spain by storm, but there was to be no trap this time around.
Except there still was. A false sense of safety set in and Madrid were foolishly reminded that two-nil is the most dangerous lead you can have. During their early burst, there was a feeling. You thought for a moment that they had actually learnt, that seeing the Copa final go down to the wire and seeing Inter push Barca to the brink had taught them something. That this Barca side is beatable – if only you have plan, a structure, or an idea of what you’re going to do before you do it.
But then the glass shattered. The league as we know it resumed. Barcelona were very good and Madrid simply not good enough. Even Mbappe’s hat-trick could not inspire any real belief. It was 4-3 but it felt like much more. The space in behind Lucas Vazquez remained open to the public 24/7, Madrid’s midfield remained overrun and lethargic, and their attack, brilliant as it might be, remained off colour and out of sync.
What will undoubtedly and frustratingly characterise the Real Madrid side we’ve seen this season is perhaps how quickly, easily and inconsistently they can go from looking like the best team in the world to a second division side devoid of any real tactics or strategies, just hoping on a whim and prayer that it somehow works out. It did not this season and so marks the end of the Carlo Ancelotti era, not with a bang but with a whimper.
On Monday, it was confirmed Don Carlo will become the first permanent foreign coach of Brazil. He will lead the Selecao at next year’s World Cup.
This game was the perfect conclusion to a LaLiga season that has surprised at nearly every turn. Now, all that is left is for Barca to nudge themselves over the line, requiring only three points from the last nine on offer to do so.
There was a three-horse title race until April, a Clasico showdown to decide the champions that took us into May, and now a befitting end should see Barcelona deliver what few thought they could, but what they, somehow, always believed was already theirs.