Cat Fight

Barca and Real Engage in Yet Another Chapter of Their Very Heated Rivalry
photo by Endlisnis	via PhotoRee

Notes on El Clasico, numero tres:

Well, I guess Pep's outburst at the press conference on Tuesday had its intended effect: His team came out bitch slapping, cat fighting and play-acting like champions, with even their scrub goaltender Jose Pinto managing a massive accomplishment, recieving a red card send-off without ever setting foot on the pitch.

The game opened with a massive yawn, though, as the two sides basically played knockabout for the first 35 minutes.  At one point early on, I watched as Barca completed 15 consecutive passes without leaving their own half.

Without Real Madrid pressing them in the slightest.

Is that really the Beautiful Game, or just the boring game?

Things soon hotted up though, as the two teams began to fight like teenage girls who've had their boyfriends stolen. Which leads me to the following obeservation: Screw the game.  This contest was something ripped straight out of Correspondent Ed's wildest dreams:  it was like watching teenage girls have a pillow fight at a slumber party, albeit without the negligees or sexiness.

Man Up, Barça!

Regular EPL Columnist Ed checks in, with an alternate view of El Superclasico.  Can't wait for the post-staff-meeting fireworks to begin: 

Last night I sat down at 10:30pm after a long day at the office and turned on the Barcelona vs. Real Madrid “El Clasico.”  If that little descriptive title (it’s not just a game, it’s a Classic!!) doesn’t make you gag something up from lunch, then what I saw probably would.  In addition to the hysterical commentary (not “ha ha" funny hysterical, but rather the “I’m squealing about every pass in this match like I just saw the face of God” hysterical), what happened in the game reminded me of everything I hate about La Liga:  flops, slap fights, excessive hair product, and I’m sure there were a few European man bags as well.

Let’s begin with Barcelona.  I will grant you they are the best team in the world.  Messi is unbelievably good.  I get it.  Yada yada yada.  But I also can't begin to imagine how irritating it would be to be dominated by ten 5’ 6” guys that weigh an average of about 135 pounds.  The way they keep the ball away from you and instantly flop whenever you get near them – urgghhh -- defending them has got to be like trying to kill a fly with a hammer.  I think after the game I might have to put a few of them over my knee and give them a good spanking just to keep them balanced in the head. 

And they need it!  How about we ease up on the vanity, guys!  Unless you’re auditioning for a teenage boy band, I think you can drop the hair gel and the 80’s perms.  Here’s a question:  can you think of another sport outside of roller dancing where the competitors wear hair gel?  And what the hell is the ball like after a few headers?  I’m not a huge fan of the tattoo sleeve, but at least it’s edgy and doesn’t come off on the ball.  Seriously, Barcelona, you’re a bunch of pretty boys.  Let me recommend a quick read that might help you out:  To Be a Man, by Charlton Heston.  Yeah, I’m talking about this guy:

Read it.  Love it.  Live it.