Barcelona vs PSG: It ain't over till Lionel Messi says so

There are a number of fascinating stories that explain the origins of the phrase “It ain’t over till the Fat Lady sings”, but my favourite of the lot has got to be the one involving the infamous Alphonse Gabriel Capone, known to you and me as ‘Al’ Capone.

In the early ‘20s, opera had swept the United States off her collective feet, and the mob boss was no exception. Back in those days the ending of every opera used to be marked by the appearance of a large lady, a sterotypically overweight soprano who would proceed to sing the aria that would close out the night.

As the story goes, Capone was enjoying one of his regular nights out at the opera when, during a lull in proceedings, the two bodyguards accompanying him figured the whole shebang was over and got up to escort their boss out. Not one to overcomplicate things, the don grabbed them by their coattails, dragged them down, and growled: “Siddown… It ain’t over till the fat lady sings.”

ORDER

A couple of years ago, there was an immensely illuminating piece of television as Thierry Henry went on Sky Sports and explained the Pep Guardiola way of football, his famous ‘philosophy’ :

“I wanted to be clever, like we all try do sometimes. You kind of don’t listen to your manager... because you didn’t touch the ball for a little while and you’re like okay... they’re enjoying football over there, let me try and see if I can be a part of it. So me being me, I went there (here he indicates that he drifted in from the left of the field to the right – like he used to do at Arsenal) a couple of times to play with Leo [Messi]... a one-two or whatever it was, and I could hear him [Guardiola] being upset on the side because I wasn’t on the side of the dugout. I still went there. I didn’t really care, you know... I scored a goal, 1-0 up against Sporting Lisbon. Come back at half-time, [feeling] all nice and everything, he took me off.”

No word quite describes the the enigmatic Catalan’s reign at Barcelona – the four years that thrust him and his club on to the plinth of greatness, as they became the touchstone of all that is ‘good’ and ‘pure’ about football – quite like... Order.

Order, not as in authoritative command, but as in “the arrangement or disposition of people or things in relation to each other according to a particular sequence, pattern, or method”. One of the world’s greatest forwards had been taken off because he had not listened to Guardiola, because he hadn’t respected his plan. Because he had disrupted the ‘order’.

Henry called it, or rather said that Guardiola called it, the three Ps – “Play, Possession and Position”.. with the last being the most important.

Guardiola did, of course, give his attackers freedom of movement in the final third, as Henry was careful to repeat multiple times during his explanation. But in the first 2/3rds of the pitch you did exactly as you were told. Ego, superstardom and creative expression were all subjugated to the all-encompassing will of the ‘order’ that Guardiola wanted to see in his side.

The five years since his departure, though, have been a slow descend down the slope, the ‘order’ regressing day by day till it turned into...

CHAOS

Before Guardiola took over, the overpowering theme of Barcelona was ‘chaos’. At times it used to be beautiful – like those two magnificent years when Ronaldinho created spontaneous joy on the Camp Nou pitch – but for the most part, it was left to the individual sparks of talent to catalyse success.

Ever since his departure, though, it’s been just that. A slide into chaos.

The mere fact that a vast majority do not recognise this is a testament to the strength of the ‘order’ instilled in the Guardiola years, and how that has affected our perception of Barcelona. It hasn’t been immediate or overnight, but the truth of the slide is undeniable. When Xavi Hernandez was still around, there was a semblance of order, but by now it has descended into total chaos.

Yes, they are still incredibly successful – winners of the La Liga in three of those five years, they’ve won the Copa Del Rey twice and they’ve won one UEFA Champions League and FIFA Club World Cup apiece – but they’ve made the papers more for their off-field antics. Tax-evasion scandals have enveloped their players, and the controversial transfer of Neymar Jr. threatens to become the ‘sports-law-case’ of the year.

From being proudly unsponsored, they went to having Qatar Airways emblazoned on thier bosoms. From being the saviours of football – investing, and trusting, in the youth system – they’ve gone to becoming more galactico-obssessed than Real Madrid themselves.

They’ve changed managers with an alacrity that would have shocked the most trigger-happy chairmen in the world. And it appears that their own players have now forced their own coach to tender his resignation, before the season has even ended.

And yet, they’ve always maintained one thing, at times giving just a tiny sliver of hope (like today), but usually enough to pull them through the darkest days. They’ve always had...

FAITH

You may be wondering, if you’ve gotten this far, as to what in the blue hell I am on about. Nothing that has been talked about in the title has been talked about in the 800 or so words that have preceded this. That is because I wanted to give you context, and show to you just how much the overlaying patterns of order and chaos and the all-encompassing nature of the club itself have seized the narrative and removed our focus from the most important underlying element of them all.

The main character.

Throughout this decade of tumultous upheaval from ‘Chaos’ to ‘Order’, and back again, the one thing that has remained constant is the ‘Faith’ that they’ve had in said main character of the Barcelona story.

It’s the faith that drove Carles Rexach to lay his career on the line and sign a contract on a serviette, stating that Barcelona would abide by everything they had promised him and his father, despite – and these are his exact words – “the existence of some opinions against it“.

It’s the faith that made an in-the-doldrums Barcelona shell out nearly $1,000-a-month, money they didn’t really have, for the growth hormones that the little lad from Rosario so desperately needed. It’s the faith that convinced a beleagured Joan Gaspart, under fire after Luis Figo had left – to join the enemy – that summer, to pay $50,000 annually to Jorge, his dad, so that the family would stay in Catalonia.

It’s the faith that Frank Rijkaard showed to hand el mudo, the mute one, his full senior debut before he had even come of age. It’s the faith that inspired Ronaldinho to scoop a glorious lob into his path for him to score his first goal. It’s the faith that convinced Pep Guardiola to introduce an element of chaos into his almost manic obsession with order. It’s the faith that millions have had that despite all the chaos around him, he would maintain order.

It’s this faith that everyone has had – for more than a decade and a half – in the main character that has made Futbol Club Barcelona the pre-eminent sporting team on the planet...

Faith in Lionel Messi.

“Mes que un club”, Guardiola and Enrique, Laporta and Bartomeu, and everyone in between, hell, the grand ol’ club herself... all have merely been distractions to the greatest show on earth – a littlle Argentine with a football, and with it, the world, at his feet.

Read, Also – Follow Barcelona vs PSG Live with the inimitable Shaurya Vineet right here

IT AIN’T OVER...

We have written so much about him. Newspaper headlines have ranged from “Unbelievable. Unrivalled. Unrepeatable. Spectacular. Marvellous. Wonderful. Genial. Incredible" to "Messi is the God of football". They’ve gone from "Stratospheric. Magical. Divine. Generous. Extraordinary" to the rather interesting “ET, was born in Rosario and plays in Barcelona". And yet we haven’t said nearly enough.

It’s a stupid thought, an oxymoronic opinion, even, but we really ought to say more, write more, be wowed more.

Part of it though is because he has ruined it for us. Ruined the spectacular by making it mundane, regular. Spoiled us by the mind-numbing efficiency of his work. Lulled us into a stupor with the simplicity of his game – there are no stepovers, no fancy elasticos, no pirouettes on the ball – there’s just him, his left foot, and the ball sticking to him... jogging alonsgide him like a faithful dog. Even the one piece of showboating he does, the panna – the nutmeg – he does with such ruthless regularity that we’ve stopped being amazed by it.

How stupid of us.

While this combination of diruption-of-focus due to the larger picture and the utter inevitability of Messi’s genius has dulled us to his threat, to his ability to turn that stupid Adidas tagline ‘Impossible is nothing’ from a figment of an advertiser’s imagination to a slice of cold, hard reality, there’s another thing that has led almost everyone to respond with variations of “Balls” when asked whether Barcelona can overturn the 4-0 deficit they face against PSG.

No, not just the fact that it has never been done before (the closest anyone has got to doing it in the Champions League is when Deportiva La Coruna, Super Depor, overturned a 4-1 deficit at home against mighty AC Milan), but the fact that we humans are a sadistic race. There is nothing we enjoy quite as much as the phenomenon of building up our heroes, putting them on pedestals high above us, before tearing it all down with rapid viciousness.

The game against PSG was the lowest point of his Barca career, the one day he didn’t turn up. But then again, you’ve got to forgive a man having an off-day, especially when it’s his first in a decade. But what has followed has been brutal, as neutrals and fans of rivals have taunted, teased and mercilessly dragged Messi down to our level.

And we can’t wait for him to fail tonight. You see, it’s not the putting on the pedestal bit that give us most satisfaction, it’s the tearing down bit. We can’t wait to see him become one of us again.... a mere mortal.

How stupid of us.

He may not do it, but the man who has seven goals in three Champions League matches this season, who has scored five in a single CL knockout game before, who is semingly at ease with the world once again, will surely give it a good ol’ go.

For us neutrals, he’s never betrayed our faith in his ability to make sure his team is in the game no matter what the scenario. And it would be utterly stupid of us, and of his opposition, to think that this game is a foregone conclusion.

Be warned, PSG. As Al Capone would have drawled in that iconic Italian-American accent of his if he were around today..,

“Siddown! It ain’t over till Leo Messi says so.”