late, but because nothing beats saying i was there

"Gar firdaus ruhe zameen ast, hamin asto, hamin asto, hamin asto," said Mughal Emperor Jahangir when he thought he had discovered heaven on earth. If Jahangir was a football fan and had managed a ticket to London’s Wembley Stadium for the UEFA Champions League final, there is a good chance he would have changed his mind.
No disrespect to the verdant landscapes of Kashmir but, on Saturday, May 28, the football-watching world—reports estimate about 300 million people watched the game on TV—was lifted, in 90 minutes of magic, straight to footballing heaven.

Manchester United and Barcelona, the champions of England and Spain, considered
the best leagues in the world, were playing for European supremacy. Both clubs have a
rich history in the competition, having won it three times each, before Wembley. And
if the CVs of the teams were impressive, so was the venue. The old Wembley stadium
had hosted the European Cup final five times. Among those was the 1968 final, when United beat Benfica 4–1 to win their first “cup with the big ears”. In 1992, the year before the tournament was rechristened the Champions League, Barcelona’s dream team—led by current coach Josep “Pep” Guardiola and coached by Johann Cruyff—
won their first.

Getting to Wembley wasn’t easy, starting with the first step—convincing the powerful people in the media office at the UEFA headquarters that you are a legitimate football writer.

But as an Indian journalist at the season’s biggest game, the hardest part of it all happens, perhaps, when you walk into the magnificent stadium and are standing by the elevator when the biggest names in football walk past you to get to a room where they will sit down and answer your questions.

What do you do? Do you behave like a professional and tell yourself that, at the end of the day, it’s just another football game? Or do you just walk around star-struck, delighted that Manchester United legend Andy Cole signed your copy of the official matchday programme (which us lucky media freebie hunter types didn’t have to shell out 10 quid for), even though you are as far from being a United fan as the Sun is from Pluto (not sure if that conveys exactly how far I am from being a United fan, but it was the best I could do at the time)?

It’s a tough choice. The game was watched around the world but, on that night, the stadium was like a slice of the planet. All of Europe was represented, as was North America, but the flags hanging off the ramparts were far more diverse. From Brazil to Bermuda, Algeria to Thailand, China to Nigeria—if ever there was a cosmopolitan crowd, this was it. Much is said of the global appeal of football and very little proof of the pudding is needed when you talk to a fan who has spent months saving up and then travelled thousands of miles to witness sport in its purest form.
Walking into the stadium on matchday was a surreal experience. To have the gladiators of the 21st century perform for you while the rest of the world watches is special in ways that cannot be described. To the players, it may have been about winning. To the fans, it may have been about the glory, and to the clubs it may have been about pride and the not exactly small amounts of money along with it. But to an Indian journalist among the 90,000 faithful at the Wembley, it was about being a tiny part of history.

On May 27, match eve, Sir Alex Ferguson seemed a relaxed man. He entered the press
conference room with Nemanja Vidic, Rio Ferdinand and a big smile. “This could
be the best final of the decade.” The facts clearly backed his statement. About 26
hours later, he would be back in the same room to say, “In my time as manager, I
would say they’re the best team we’ve faced. Everyone acknowledges that and I accept
it. It’s not so easy when you’ve been well beaten like that to think another way. No one has given us a hiding like that.” True.

On Saturday night (I supposed it is now I few Saturday nights ago), in front of a full house, Barcelona took to the pitch and handed United a footballing lesson that can only be described as a masterclass.

The game was won in the middle of the park. As expected, Barca played three in midfield—Xavi, Andres Iniesta and Sergio Busquets—with Lionel Messi playing in front of them and David Villa and Pedro Rodriguez as inside forwards. The wide players drew defenders, opening up space in the middle. With players like Messi and Xavi, there is very little room to relax. When given space, they can be devastating—exactly what they were.

The incredible part of watching Barca play is how hard the players work on and off the ball. When in possession, they are calm and watchful, and the midfielders have the vision of Shiva’s third eye. Barca completed 667 passes with 63 per cent possession. United didn’t make half that number.

At Wembley, they did to United what United do to other clubs in the Premier League, week in, week out. Barca broke them down, blow-by-blow, play-by-play, and when United were on the ropes, the Catalans delivered the knockout punch. And the best
part—they made it look effortless.

After the game, Messi praised “incredible” Barcelona. But, while no one doubts the win was a team effort, Xavi put things in perspective. “He (Messi) is the number one, he makes the difference—he is the best player in the world,” said Xavi. Messi scored the decisive goal, like he did two years ago in Rome. It was his 12th goal in 13 Champions League games this season. Cristiano Ronaldo may have scored 40 in the La Liga but Messi may have put an end to the debate over who the world's best player is.

The Catalan club joined Bayern Munich and Ajax at the next level, with four European Cups. The current generation of Barcelona players has won it all. They are spoken of in the same tones as the Madrid squad of the late 50s; the Ajax, Bayern and Liverpool teams of the 70s; and the treblewinning Man United team of 1999. And they have a certain Leo Messi.

Most of us have not had the fortune of seeing older sides play football. We have all seen this Barcelona team, though. While the debate over which of these sides is actually the best club side ever might be an endless one, there is a clear fact. In the evolution of football, teams from half a century ago played a very different style of the game. There wasn’t nearly as much running, possession was given away cheaply and defending was not really a priority.

In the 1956 final, Madrid beat Stade de Reims-Champagne 4–3. Four years later, in
1960, they beat Borussia Dortmund 7–3. A 7–3 result in a Champions League final today
would be inconceivable. “I didn’t see the Ajax of Cryuff, I didn’t see the Real Madrid of Di Stefano and the Santos of Pele,” said Guardiola, summing up the debate after the game. “But if in 10 or 15 years’ time, people remember us for the football we are playing now, that will make me very happy.”

Football may transcend cultures, but it is a tribal sport. Football fans are its fiercely warring tribes. But Barcelona have a quality that make them different. For followers of the sport, Barcelona is a uniting factor.

And there’s a reason for this, it’s the way they make the game truly beautiful. Like
this: In March, Barca leftback Eric Abidal underwent surgery to remove a tumour from his liver. He recovered and was a surprise starter on the night. When asked why he was chosen to lift the trophy, Guardiola said, “It just shows what kind of human beings these players are. This is what makes us strong. It is a privilege to train these players.” And to an Indian football writer among the 90,000 faithful at the Wembley, it was a privilege tp have seen this great team take the field as one.