Yes, Madrid won yesterday. We all know it and even expected it. A fully insured team visited another one immersed in an inexhaustible trial period. However, football is seasoned with unimaginable unforeseen events, so not trusting your team despite the storm is insulting to say the least. How difficult it is to predict the near future when the present is so changeable!
Barcelona, exhausted as the weather paralleled its passage, was worse despite the fact that the play of both teams a priori irreverent proved irrelevant.
The changes, simply inexplicable. The approach was terribly simple. Given their physical strength and their persistence and effectiveness on the counter-attack, they should have increased the power in midfield, acting as a balance to compensate for the mismatches resulting from attrition. Even so, it seems that it was not evident, so that the white team easily left the home team in evidence.
Secondly, why persist in looking for water if you are lost in the desert? Why not look for another way out? Throughout history, Barcelona has managed on countless occasions to delight with a precise game, beautiful in the eyes of the spectator, but it has never advocated practice. Football is not a game of size. Despite this, Barcelona’s success has always been linked to a group of small players who dance around the ball giving it an intoxicating perfume rather than to tall players who fight to smell it.
Yesterday’s diagnosis is alarming. The term Clasico is no longer associated with elegance or excellence but with mediocrity.
Foot Renegades 