I've been looking forward to 6pm this Sunday for weeks. For it is the kickoff time of, for me, the biggest football match of the season. Not Arsenal - Chelsea (I missed Wooden Spoon Super Sunday because of work, and it sounds like I missed b***** all), not the Old Firm, not even the increasingly rare encounters between my beloved ICT and Ross County, the best thing Dingwall has to offer (which is not hard when the only other competitors for that crown are a roundabout and a post office).
No, it's time for the twice a year showdown that is el clasico, Barcelona v Real Madrid. Catalonia versus royal Spain. A clash, which almost inevitably involves two of the very best teams in the world in action. It means so much more to Real than playing neighbours Atletico, and more to Barca than taking on the second team in their city, Espanyol. And in my experience, at least one of the two games each year is an absolute gem. Last year at Camp Nou, Barca came from behind three times in a 3-3 draw, with Leo Messi's hat-trick including a last minute equalizer, after the home side played the whole second half a man down. The year before saw the Ronaldinho show at the Bernabeu; the Brazilian has never since looked like reaching the standards he set with two of the greatest solo goals you'll ever see, within 20 minutes of each other, in a 3-0 which saw the home support applauding the buck-toothed schemer (an honour only given previously to a certain Argentinian you may have heard of called Maradona, who also had a similar waistline). Go back another year and you have a 4-2 Real victory, with a performance from David Beckham so sweet that you could have got diabetes from watching it.
Even the less impressive games have their moments; who remembers the pig's head that got thrown from the crowd at Figo when he took a corner?!
What makes this one particularly juicy is that this is not a Real side crippled by the egos of aging Galacticos, or stifled by the stuffy tactics of Capello; no, this Real Madrid side, coached by Bernd Schuster (who played for both sides and was a Barcelona legend), are four points clear at the top of the league and are firing on all cylinders. Real finally spent cash on the defence in the summer, though Pepe of Porto is maybe not worth €20 million, and Cannavaro has finally got to grips with La Liga after a dodgy first season. The strings in midfield are pulled by Robinho, finally fulfilling his potential, and by Dutch acquisition Wesley Sneijder. And not only is Ruud Van Nistelrooy continuing to feed his goalscoring addiction, but to the shock of all, Raul has rediscovered his mojo and is playing his best stuff for about 5 years. Real are top dogs, and have been utterly sumptuous to watch.
Barca? They have finally clicked into gear in the last few weeks, after being largely carried on the shoulders of Messi in the early months of the season. That's just as well, as the little Argentine is out injured, but Thierry Henry may be back off the treatment table just in time. But Barca still have a solid back line, a midfield improved by Patrick Vieira-clone Yaya Toure, and oodles of quality.
They also still have the enigma that Ronaldinho has become. He really does look a bit podgy these days, and appears to have lost that burst of acceleration that beats players. He was left on the bench last week, though Frank Rijkaard insists that this is because of long standing injury niggles; it may well be that he's been saved so he can unleash his best on Sunday night,
If only.
Anyway, it usually thrills, it rarely disappoints. On Sunday night, for me, El Clasico and El Mundo are one and the same. You would be a bit of a twit to miss it.
L.
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