[LaFuriaBlaugrana]

Yeah I read that...Kind of interesting, Quique was openly fighting with his players at the beginning of the season and I wouldn't put it above Soler to fire him right when things were turning around. However I still stand by my opinion that Quique could do no better than qualifying for Europe and the CL Quarter finals at best.


I don't think Soler can afford to fire Koeman right now because it would be openly admitting he f*cked up, I expect Valencia to drag its way through this season, Koeman will make up an excuse to quit afterwards, and they will lose their best players.

[Beast]

well the results Koeman is making doesn't give him any hope of surviving the season 1 win in 8 games... no goals crap defending and for the love of god he makes Schuster looks like a genius when it comes to selection and subs.. Vicente on the bench, M Fernandez on the bench (while a reserve player was fielded against Barca ! ) and Zigic is on the bench even when Moro was injured... don't think Soler will wait for the fans to kill him or Valencia go down

[Beast]

Struggling Ronaldinho gets stick of the nail-encrusted variety
Ronaldinho has been made the scapegoat for Barça's 'El Clasico' defeat - unfairly, perhaps, but the Brazilian's crisis is real
Sid Lowe

December 24, 2007 1:47 PM
It's the Spanish Christmas tradition as entrenched as traffic, turrón and tack, up there with nativity scenes of bewildering detail and monumental scale, lottery draws stalked by kids chanting like an army of pre-pubescent Gregorian monks and the Catalan caganer - the chocolate figurine producing a chocolate log. Every year when the football wraps up for winter, La Liga's Brazilians catch a flight home for Christmas. And every year when the football returns, La Liga's Brazilians don't. Much to the irritation of the fans.

This year, though, there's a difference. When Ronaldinho arrived at El Prat last night in the comic get-up of the teenage bad-boy - sunglasses, silly hat, sparkly jacket, BA's chains and Suggs's trousers - it was barely an hour after the final whistle at the Camp Nou. It was the fastest he'd moved all night and rather than wagging thumb and little finger at adoring fans, he sneaked silently through a side door. If he is late back again, busy holed up in the boot of a car or working on his pneumatic drill impression, few will care. In fact, right now, plenty of Barça fans couldn't care less if he doesn't fly back at all.

And they couldn't care less because last night Barcelona were beaten 1-0 by Real Madrid in what used to be called the derbi and is now dubbed the clásico but was only classic in the way that old telly programmes which weren't very good the first time are classic. Because a Julio Baptista goal inflicted Barça's first home defeat for almost two years. Because they failed to score for the first time since a 0-0 with Espanyol almost three years ago. Because defeat leaves them seven points behind Madrid, closing an annus almost as horribilis as the Queen's. Because, in an admirable display of clichéd fools seldom differing, both Marca and AS's websites declared it a "white Christmas", while Sport and Mundo Deportivo called it "the nightmare before Christmas". And because the league looks done already: "It's over," insisted Marca's Roberto Palomar, "the difference between Madrid and Barcelona is the difference between an antelope and a lion. And I don't remember a single documentary where the antelope wins."

Most of all, though, they couldn't care less because it's all Ronaldinho's fault.

Now, it's not actually all Ronaldinho's fault, of course. Barcelona came up against a Madrid side that was too good. Not a side with great fluidity or creativity, and certainly not one playing the fantasy football promised when Fabio Capello was sacked, but one with few weaknesses beyond President Tourettes - the man with a blunderbuss permanently cocked at his foot. The Mask's Képler Laveran Lima Ferreira - Pepe to his mates - cost Madrid €30m and is starting to look well worth it alongside Fabio Cannavaro. Sergio Ramos is a ridiculously good athlete. Iker Casillas performs miracles like he's making a nice cup of tea. Ruud Van Nistelrooy is still the most effective striker in Spain. Raúl's oxygen tent is working wonders. Robinho is finally finding consistency. Wesley Sneijder is recovering his early season form. And Baptista, built like Mr Strong but half-way out the Bernabéu door, has learnt that he doesn't need to be so nice all the time.

Then there's Bernd Schuster, the marvellously miserable manager who planned last night's match to perfection. Pepe apart, few Madrid players shone individually but collectively they were superb, strangling Barcelona and reducing them to a measly five shots. Without Messi Barça had little cutting edge, Samuel Eto'o was snuffed out, Carles Puyol couldn't get forward, Deco looked unfit - which he was - and Xavi produced half the passes he normally does. Only Andres Iniesta and late substitute Bojan Krikic came out of the game with credit. But while no one in the Barcelona side really performed well, it's Ronaldinho getting the stick. And not just any old stick, either, but a bloody great plank encrusted with nails. He's gone from black sheep to scapegoat: "Ronaldinho plays, Barça lose", was El Mundo Deportivo's succinct conclusion.

The reason is simple. All week, the build up focused on two men: Guti and Ronaldinho. Schuster left Guti out and his replacement scored the winner; Rijkaard put Ronaldinho in and he did not. In fact, he was awful. Included in the side despite poor form and victory in his absence, the clásico was a chance for him to prove a point. All he proved is that his crisis is real. Sure, there were a couple of nice touches and sure he tried, but he wasted the one chance he had, spent the game diving in desperation, gave the ball away eighteen times - "meaning he provided more passes to Madrid's players than Diarra", as Miguel Serrano noted - and never managed to get away from Sergio Ramos, the man he destroyed two seasons back.

The only person Ronaldinho destroys these days is himself. Overweight, unfit and unhappy, there have been flashes of brilliance and plenty of goals - last year he scored 21 - but there's no escaping the decline. Worse still, he's seen as the embodiment of all that's wrong with a Barcelona team going down the galactic route, while Madrid head in the other direction. He missed over 50% of Barça's training sessions last season, can't get on with Samuel Eto'o, and has already pulled out of two games this year - on the morning of the match. As one columnist put it, "Ronaldinho is the best player in the world but the worst sportsman at Barcelona"; "Dinho", another declared, "is deceased ... or gone fishing." Last night wasn't just about last night. For Ronaldinho it was a challenge: now or never. And as the fans whistled him from the field, the inevitable conclusion was never.

Results: Zaragoza 2-2 Valencia (Is that the same Zigic you didn't want, Ronaldo?), Almería 0-2 Getafe, Sevilla 4-1 Racing (Partidazo. Thank God for that), Valladolid 0-0 Betis, Villarreal 1-1 Recreativo, Atlético 1-2 Espanyol (more comedy refereeing and brilliant football from Espanyol), Levante 0-1 Deportivo (won with a penalty. What a surprise. Adiós Levante), Barcelona 0-1 Real Madrid, Athletic 1-1 Murcia
=========================

First Classico review .....

[Irish_Cule]

And you wont find a better one. Sid is spot on!!

[Beast]

I'll wait for Phil & Tim first ...Phil usually make a great article each Classico ... he is the eldest most experienced & Knowledgeable of the Trio

[Lemmiwinks]

Deen's

Quote

spent the game diving in desperation, gave the ball away eighteen times - "meaning he provided more passes to Madrid's players than Diarra",

ouchie, don't let the door hit you on the way out..

not enough mention of tactics etc but a good article. bit short.

[Beast]

Phil made his with a little depth while Tim reported the game and Dinho demise

[Beast]

Real talking titles after Madrid derby takes an inevitable turn
Yesterday's Madrid derby had been mercilessly and tirelessly hyped as the best in years. However, in the end the result was all too predictable
Sid Lowe
January 21, 2008 3:38 PM

High in the Vicente Calderón, under the gaze of the Royal Palace and the Almudena Cathedral, lit by the flashing blue lights from the riot vans poised ready on the San Isidro bridge, the guy with the look of Luke Skywalker turns to the bloke next to him and says "you know what's going to happen now, don't you?" His companion nods: "inevitable". "In fact," he adds, "I'll put a fiver on it." As hands shake, way down below them a corner floats into the area, a scuffed shot drifts goalwards and squirms past the dive of the keeper. A thousand fans leap into the air, cheering; 54,000 more don't. A grubby €5 note gets tugged from a pocket and handed over.

It is no consolation. All around, they're doing their nuts, exploding with the injustice of it all. "Utter, utter, utter bastards!" "Jammy gits!" "Typical, bloody typical!" The bloke with the dodgy mullet takes it out on his chair, stomping it into submission, while his mate, suddenly 10 rows below, tries to take it out on a stray member of the opposition. Real Madrid have just gone into a two-goal lead in the derby against city rivals Atlético Madrid, Ruud van Nistelrooy's half-hit half-volley beating Christian Abbiati. "Van Nistelrooy's goal," Atlético coach Javier Aguirre later says, "was a hammer blow".

More like Robert De Niro going to town on the cowboy trying to con his casino. There's still four minutes until half-time but it's all over. Madrid are home and dry, their feet up in front of the fire, hot chocolate in one hand, buttered crumpet in the other. With the exception of Sergio Aguero, Atlético have given up and so have their fans. As the second half ticks irrelevantly away, they can barely muster a chorus of "Guti, Guti, Guti, maricón!" (Guti, Guti, Guti, you're a poof!), a spot of gloating about Madrid's late No7 Juanito, a show of support for Luis Aragonés over Raúl, and a few half-hearted (and isolated) ooh-oohs. The atlético who whipped down his pants and gleefully slapped his arse with every Madrid name read out by the stadium announcer now sits in silence, the huge joint hanging from his resigned fingers saying it all. Only at the very end can they raise themselves for one, defiant rendition of the Atlético anthem, finishing on a spine tingling roar of "Atléeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeti!"

The reason is simple: Atlético have been crushed by the cruel inevitability of it all, the heart-wrenching familiarity of failure against their bitterest rivals, the sheer unfairness, the pain of falling into that same old trap.

With Atlético in third and finally playing exciting, attacking football, scoring lots of goals along the way, this had been mercilessly hyped as the best derby in years, the chance for the Indians to defeat the Vikings for the first time this century. All week they wheeled out anyone who is anyone and quite a few who aren't. They went behind the scenes to reveal the most earth-shattering secrets of Spanish soccer. A president smoking a cigar! A ticket office that's sold out! A press office with a phone! They interviewed the "famous"; they interviewed sinister simpleton Esperanza Aguirre, President of the Community of Madrid, who declared her desire for "both teams to win"; they even "interviewed" a couple of babies in football kits and nappies. Speaking of which, they gave a whole page, daily, to a debate between mad Madridista Tomás Roncero and Atlético-supporting columnist Manolete, staging a competition to see who's the biggest paleto - the most vocal of the local yokels.

Most of them - Roncero apart - said that this might be Atlético's year and the fans believed them. For about 31 seconds. Which was 24.2 seconds longer than it took Joseba Llorente to score for Valladolid and precisely how long Real Madrid needed to take the lead 209km further south. Two summers ago, Pablo Ibáñez agreed to join Madrid if Juan Palacios won their presidential elections. Instead President Tourettes won them and had a better idea - keep him at Atlético. The defender didn't so much open the door to Madrid as lead them to the biscuit barrel full of cash, dithering, chasing himself down a dark alley, and eventually losing out to Robinho, who waltzed past and crossed for Raúl to score.

And yet far from collapsing, Atlético dominated. Iker Casillas made three excellent saves and Aguero hit the bar. With half-time approaching, Thiago Motta did the same. It was Atlético's sixth effort on target; Madrid had had one. But a minute later, the visitors were two-up - Pablo again defending, as one columnist put it, "like Peter Sellers". Abbiati had just two saves to make and made neither of them; the whole place deflated. For the team who last season blew it at the Bernabéu and got robbed at the Calderón, who've seen so many victories snatched away, a second blow was too much to take.

No wonder former player Milinko Pantic sighed: "new year, same story". Fans agreed when TVE's roving reporter heartlessly stuck a microphone under their nose - "the same old story," muttered one, "we played but they scored" added another, "classic Madrid", said a third - and Marca's website described it as "the never ending story". No wonder El Mundo Deportivo followed suit and AS asked "sound familiar?"

Yes, very. As familiar, in fact, as the roars from the Madrid players as they disappeared down the tunnel, shouting "yes, the league's in the bag!" It might have been presumptuous with 18 games left, Madrid's football faltering, and Casillas being forced into more saves than anyone else in Primera, but it was hard to disagree. Seven points clear, Bernd Schuster's side have won away at Camp Nou, the Madrigal and the Calderón, as well as San Mamés and Mestalla, they've scored more than anyone else, conceding just 14, and their toughest opponents must all still visit the Bernabéu. For Real, a 31st title draws near; for Atlético, another opportunity slips away. And even easy money can't dull the pain.

Results: Getafe 3-2 Sevilla, Villarreal 3-0 Valencia (Pires, Rossi and Nihat class; Valencia truly, deeply awful. Again. That's right Ronald, you build a wall, mate - that'll do the trick), Osasuna 2-0 Athletic, Zaragoza 3-1 Murcia, Levante 2-2 Mallorca (Levante in scoring goals shock. But it's surely too late), Almería 1-0 Deportivo, Valladolid 2-1 Espanyol, Betis 1-1 Recreativo, Barcelona 1-0 Racing (Henry scores again, but Barça are awful).

[Beast]

A scandal and a robbery, yes, but Barça aren't complaining


A hugely debatable penalty 10 minutes from time gave Barcelona a lucky win over Zaragoza - and moved them just five points behind Real Madrid, writes Sid Lowe

Monday February 18, 2008

The linesman raised his flag, the referee blew his whistle, and everyone else blew their tops and raised hell. Zaragoza's players raced over to Bernardino González Vázquez and Pedro Barcia Fernández while their fans whistled and booed and "shat on their prostitute mothers". César Sánchez hopped up and down in those natty Lycra tights, a demented Mr Motivator. Sergio Fernández shook his head one way and his jaw another. And Juanfran sank to his knees, head in hands like Sgt Elias in Platoon, slain by the terrible injustice of it all. Somewhere high above Andalucía in their Airfix plane, Real Madrid were doing the same. Barcelona's players, meanwhile, avoided eye contact and giggled embarrassedly up their sleeves, unable to believe their luck.


El Heraldo de Aragón saw an "assassin's hand", El Periódico de Aragón called it a "killing", Equipo bemoaned a "scandal and a robbery", and AS's cover screamed: "Hands up!" Catalan comic Sport called it "debated" and El Mundo Deportivo did their best to not call it anything at all, tucking it away on page nine, clasping their hands behind their backs, turning their eyes innocently skywards and whistling a little who, us? "I feel cheated, conned and completely indignant," moaned Juanfran, that permanent pout having turned right in on itself leaving his lips curled up on the inside, his gums glistening on the outside. "We might as well give up on football, grab a coffee and start playing cards if this is what's going to happen," complained César.
What happened was this: with 10 minutes to go between Barcelona and Real Zaragoza at the Romareda, Barcelona were given a penalty. Not just any penalty, either. A penalty that came after half an hour of Zaragoza completely dominating, with Ricardo Oliveira too quick for Rafa Márquez, Peter Luccin too strong for Xavi and Deco, full-backs Carlos Diogo and Juanfran too dynamic for the Barça defence and Sergio García just too good for everyone. A penalty that came after Zaragoza had missed one of their own, Diego Milito lumping his spot kick over as his brother and former team-mate Gabi won a disappointingly non-existent Milito family duel. A penalty that substitute Ronaldinho scored to make it 2-1 to Barça, sparking talk of a resurrection for the Brazilian undergoing the most rapid decline since Eamonn Holmes took a sledge down Muswell Hill. A penalty, above all, that wasn't a penalty at all.

"It should never, ever have been given - it was a move with no danger whatsoever," complained Zaragoza coach Javier Irureta. El Periódico de Aragón agreed on two counts: "First because it was not a hand-ball and, second, because a simple sense of justice meant that the ref could have overlooked anyway."

If the reasoning was rubbish, they were right. An aimless ball into the box cleared Barça's forwards and sailed towards the far post. As Juanfran leapt for it, bringing it down, his arm extended and one commentator said something about a "hint of a handball" but no one in a Barça shirt appealed. Replays showed that Juanfran had controlled the ball on his chest or perhaps his shoulder, photos showed likewise and the "3D" imagery on Club de Fútbol showed that down Televisión Española's way the "latest" technology is not so much cutting edge as school scissors with plastic handles and blunted blades. Marca meanwhile showed that they'd be as much use in an operating theatre as Nick Riviera, noting: "It hit that confused area than some people call the shoulder and others call the biceps."

Without the slightest guilty pause, Juanfran carried on up the line and Barça carried on after him, as if nothing had happened - which it hadn't. But before the full-back could launch yet another attack, the referee's earpiece was buzzing and he was pointing to the spot. Suddenly, what could have been a famous victory became an infamous defeat, thanks to a Galician born in Frankfurt and an assistant accused of trying to take over from Spain's most famous linesman, another man whose "greatest" moment came during another Zaragoza-Barça; Rafa "Rafa, No Me Jodas" Guerrero.

"Barça got by with a little help from their friends," declared AS and even Sport admitted the ref had lent a hand. Marca disagreed: González Vázquez had not given Barça a helping hand at all; he had in fact given them two. Not only had he awarded a decidedly dodgy penalty, he'd also allowed Thierry Henry's opener to stand even though his control looked suspiciously like handball - certainly more of one than Juanfran's. "No one realised that Barça's 'together we can do it' campaign meant 'together with the referees'," sniped one columnist as César added: "Barça had 12 players out there - the 11 in blue and red and a guy playing on the wing in yellow." "To be fair, you can't blame it all on the ref," wrote Zaragoza-supporting columnist Juan Montaner. "Just 95% of it."

But if it was all too much for poor Zaragoza to take, president Eduardo Bandrés vowing to write a very angry letter to someone, it was in Madrid where events hit hardest. After all, it's here that some are convinced Gonzalez Vázquez is a Barça-supporting anti-Madridista, (handily overlooking his helping hand against Atlético) and, with Zaragoza floating about in mid-table, it's here that Saturday's result had the greatest impact. Going into Saturday's games, they were counting on Madrid going 11 points clear, pretty much tying up the title. Instead, they lost to Betis thanks to Edu scoring the exact same goal he'd scored in each of the previous four games and Mark González heading home another, offering Barça the chance to close the gap to five points. It was a chance they were on the verge of blowing until the linesman's flag rode to the rescue - meaning the league is back on, along with the conspiracy theories. How we've missed them both.

=======================
Cheats

[Irvin_007]

we didn't cheat. we were bailed out it seems.

dah well. winning a title isn't all about skill. you need luck as well.

[Beast]

well its more a " little help from your friends " then luck in your case Irvin

[bobo]

That's not cheating, Beast, thats fortuitous. Big difference..

[Beast]

or money bags after all Villar is going through a rough time in the current elections... he must pay his dues to gain support

[FCB-Mo]

Nice to see that all that time Sid Lowe spends with Real Madrid is finally starting to blur his judgement. Not a penalty? f**k off, it was clear as daylight. Juanfran lifted his arm and the ball hit him there, end of story.

[Beast]

not according to the replays , footage..etc... even the Vanguardia said its very controversial decision & Sport said its debated .. maybe you should start seeing the games instead of listening to it on Radio Barca