I have been thinking and writing about the Barcelona match since probably the draw. While having our bread and butter the caviar was always looming. Yet the match at the Nou Camp has come and gone, and today six days after I still haven't written one single word about it. Considering that I was even privileged enough of actually being there, experienceing one of the greatest nights in Liverpool's illustrious history is even more unforgivable or else shows the limits of my writing prolificness! The thing though is that since that night I felt honestly drained as the match itself and the travelling involved took everything off me. I took my notepad with me so as to record everything I went through, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
I had high hopes of achieving a respectable result, but winning 2-1 after going one goal down was beyond my and probably of most reds dreams. Having Bellamy and Riise on the scoresheet after all the tales of shenanigans we had to endure makes it the more sweeter and surreal, in a too good to be true way.
I have been to the Nou Camp once before to watch the Catalans take on AC Milan while on my way to the Riazor Stadium in A Coruna. My seat that night was in the first tier, reasonably close to all the action. The view this time round made the lads look like miniatures, but how more fulfilling it was! It really is a matter of not what it shines is gold. The enormity of the Nou Camp, especially from up there swallows you and make you feel small but by the final whistle every red present must have felt his chest swelling with pride.
Apart the goal scorers and the tactical genius of Rafael Benitez, it is Momo Sissoko that I have to single out as he deserves the real special praise and was my man of the match by the whole distance from where I was sat (or stood) to the pitch. He must have used as much energy as other players do in two whole matches. No wonder, his name was echoing through Las Ramblas and Place Reail, he's magic you know.. you'll never get past Sissoko. On second thoughts his energy might be another reason of global warming.
The metro on its way to the Les Cortes district was bouncing and loud, the anticipation of the match felt in your bones. After having secured such a wonderful result you would expect the return journey to be verging on explosive but it couldn't be further from the truth. The travelling army was still taking it all in, and rather than loud laughter and songs, there were big, satisfied grins on all faces.
Yet, there were no signs of tiredness on the chosen eleven facing Sheffield United. The caviar must have been washed down with the finest Catalan wines but the hunger for the usual bread and butter was still there and tasted satisfyingly good, as Liverpool cruised to a four-nil victory and banished any fear of a hangover. This time it was Steven Gerrard's turn to be the shiniest star in the familiar surroundings of Anfield, having won two penalties and wrap up the match by drilling a shot past the hapless Paddy Kenny through the Kop's net.
The old legend Robbie Fowler reminded us of the old adage that whilst form is temporary, class is permanent. A couple of years ago a Robbie Fowler goal brought only a bout of nostalgia. This time it is the present. In the meantime, the near future has only two of the biggest matches one could dream of laying ahead.
Make us dream indeed.
I had high hopes of achieving a respectable result, but winning 2-1 after going one goal down was beyond my and probably of most reds dreams. Having Bellamy and Riise on the scoresheet after all the tales of shenanigans we had to endure makes it the more sweeter and surreal, in a too good to be true way.
I have been to the Nou Camp once before to watch the Catalans take on AC Milan while on my way to the Riazor Stadium in A Coruna. My seat that night was in the first tier, reasonably close to all the action. The view this time round made the lads look like miniatures, but how more fulfilling it was! It really is a matter of not what it shines is gold. The enormity of the Nou Camp, especially from up there swallows you and make you feel small but by the final whistle every red present must have felt his chest swelling with pride.
Apart the goal scorers and the tactical genius of Rafael Benitez, it is Momo Sissoko that I have to single out as he deserves the real special praise and was my man of the match by the whole distance from where I was sat (or stood) to the pitch. He must have used as much energy as other players do in two whole matches. No wonder, his name was echoing through Las Ramblas and Place Reail, he's magic you know.. you'll never get past Sissoko. On second thoughts his energy might be another reason of global warming.
The metro on its way to the Les Cortes district was bouncing and loud, the anticipation of the match felt in your bones. After having secured such a wonderful result you would expect the return journey to be verging on explosive but it couldn't be further from the truth. The travelling army was still taking it all in, and rather than loud laughter and songs, there were big, satisfied grins on all faces.
Yet, there were no signs of tiredness on the chosen eleven facing Sheffield United. The caviar must have been washed down with the finest Catalan wines but the hunger for the usual bread and butter was still there and tasted satisfyingly good, as Liverpool cruised to a four-nil victory and banished any fear of a hangover. This time it was Steven Gerrard's turn to be the shiniest star in the familiar surroundings of Anfield, having won two penalties and wrap up the match by drilling a shot past the hapless Paddy Kenny through the Kop's net.
The old legend Robbie Fowler reminded us of the old adage that whilst form is temporary, class is permanent. A couple of years ago a Robbie Fowler goal brought only a bout of nostalgia. This time it is the present. In the meantime, the near future has only two of the biggest matches one could dream of laying ahead.
Make us dream indeed.
posted by jean paul at 11:29 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home