After spending an entire afternoon browsing the videos on this this wonderful edition of the Joy of Six, I felt compelled to offer my own six favourite football clips on YouTube in the comments. Here I give the reasons for my choices and list the videos that just missed out.
1) Ten minutes of pure Laudrup.
There isn't much to be said about Michael Laudrup that hasn't been said already. All you need to do is read what the greats of the game think. At his best, he represented the zenith of aesthetic football, a player who took pleasure in doing things with an almost mechanical elegance. He made wriggling free of opposing defenders seem like the most methodical pursuit in the world, while still retaining an air of beauty. No gap was too narrow for him to escape through, just as no space was too small for him to deliver a perfect pass.
This video is the ultimate tribute to Laudrup's genius, featuring the very best moments from his time at Juventus, Barcelona, Real Madrid, Ajax and with Denmark. These ten minutes of Laudrup heaven include impossibly-close control, precise through balls and some of his trademark scoop passes. Andrés Iniesta is probably the player who comes closest to emulating Laudrup's style today so it's particularly telling that he calls Laudrup the best player in history.
2) Holland eviscerate Uruguay.
Everyone knows that the failure of the Holland team of 1974 to win the World Cup is one of football's great tragedies. The great exponents of the totaalvoetbal system pioneered by their manager Rinus Michels and their playmaker Johan Cruyff would eventually lose the final against West Germany despite opening the scoring without their opponents touching the ball.
It was their first match against Uruguay, however, that catapulted their style onto the world stage. The video shows the best examples of their fabled free movement and offside trap. Swarms of Dutch players tear Uruguay apart, in attack and in defence, and the 2-0 scoreline ultimately flatters the losers. Cruyff, of course, is at the centre of it all, and scores one of the great disallowed goals at 03:37. The video is set to a delicate piano soundtrack that complements the almost understated beauty of the Dutch team perfectly.
3) Thierry Henry's 226 goals for Arsenal.
I've written about Thierry Henry at length before. Even muted admiration of Henry is frowned upon by an Irish nation who feels it was cruelly robbed of a World Cup place by that "cheating Frenchman". But such are Henry's talents that I can't help but love him. He was the greatest striker in Europe while at Arsenal, with a phenomenal goalscoring record matched only by his penchant for stunning pieces of skill.
This video includes every single one of Henry's 226 competitive goals with Arsenal. Given Henry's famous squad number, it is fitting that the video is 14 minutes in duration, though it hardly feels that long. The uploader wastes no time with irritating replays and instead chooses to show each goal once only. Combined with a gorgeously-refined piano accompaniment, this technique gives the video a simplistic feel that sets it apart from the myriad compilation videos on YouTube.
4) Brazil's best goals at the 1982 World Cup.
From Holland 1974 to Brazil 1982; perhaps the two greatest sides never to win the World Cup. Some claim that this Brazilian team were even better than their 1970 counterparts. With players like, Zico, Socrates and Éder, it's not difficult to see why. In just five games, Brazil managed to score an incredible fifteen goals. Despite their early exploits, they were knocked out before the semi-finals by eventual champions Italy in what is regarded as one of the greatest matches of all time.
Impressive as those highlights are, it is not the video that makes this list. The fourth video I've chosen is perhaps my favourite of the lot; eleven of Brazil's fifteen goals from that tournament, all of which are indisputable masterpieces. It seems unthinkable that such a vast array of astonishing goals could be scored over such a concentrated period of time, but this Brazilian team was special. There is no video that better demonstrates their genius than this.
5) Paul McGrath 1-0 Italy.
No list of favourites is complete without a purely sentimental choice. Ireland's 1-0 victory over Italy at the 1994 World Cup is possibly the great moment in Irish sporting history. After Ray Houghton's looping effort gave Ireland a shock lead in the opening minutes, an Italian side featuring Roberto Baggio came pressing for an equaliser. Wave after wave of Italian attack was repelled by the heroic Paul McGrath in one of the greatest defensive performances in World Cup history.
This tribute to Paul McGrath shows exactly why he remains one of Ireland's true sporting heroes. Beginning with his acceptance of the PFA Players' Player of the Year award in 1993, it soon shows some of the many plaudits piled upon him by celebrated names of football (Sir Alex Ferguson, Roy Keane and John Giles, to name a few). Sandwiched between the praise are the highlights of that performance against Italy: a colossus display of courage, strength and skill in inhospitabale conditions that no Irish fan will ever forget.
6) Xavi, Iniesta and Messi v Real Madrid.
Barcelona's 5-0 victory over Real Madrid was as close to footballing perfection that mortals like us can ever hope to experience. These were the two best teams in the world playing each other in a match so ludicrously hyped that nothing less than an exhilarating thriller would satisfy expectations. What followed was not so much a thriller as complete and utter domination. For ninety minutes, Barcelona were in total control against a team many Spanish football experts, such as Sid Lowe, had tipped to win. This is more of a reflection on the unprecedented scale of Barcelona's dominance than those who expected a Real Madrid victory (I include myself among them).
Ultimately, the 5"7 triumverate showed why they are the heartbeat of the club side many regard as the best of all time. The understanding between Xavi, Iniesta and Messi appears to be telepathic in this video. The three are the instigators of all Barça's forays forward, the conductor through whom the ball moves. If any video captures the spirit of Pep Guardiola's Barcelona's side, this is it.
The videos that just missed out:
Dejan Savićević tears Manchester United a new one.
José Luis Chilavert saves Maradona's feekick. Diego applauds.
"Urruti, I love you!" A dramtic penalty save delivers Barcelona's first La Liga title in eleven years.
And finally...
If you'd like to compile your own list of your six favourite football videos on YouTube, let me know on Twitter @BallBetweenTwo. I would be delighted to publish it.
Showing posts with label Messi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Messi. Show all posts
Friday, 29 July 2011
Saturday, 28 May 2011
Barcelona: A Tribute
It didn't quite turn out the way I predicted but Barcelona were crowned European champions for the fourth time in twenty years in glorious style. Manchester United were subjected to utter domination for the entire match with the exception perhaps of the first ten minutes. The domination in this, a club match on the grandest scale, is testament to Barcelona's now irrefutable place among the pantheon of football's great teams. To Hungary '54, Brazil '70 and Ajax '72, add Barcelona '11.
The plaudits will go to Lionel Messi and understandably so. He is a player of extraordinary class, a graceful juggernaut that not one defender throughout the world is capable of stopping. Yet this Barcelona team is so much more than one man, as talented as that man is. Every single player has a crucial role to play, a task to fulfill to help send their team on the way to victory. The attackers must defend and the defenders must attack, for that is the Barça way. When the opposition has the ball, Pedro and David Villa will chase down defenders until they force an error and regain possession for their team. Gerard Piqué will stride into the opponent's half, head aloft at all times, searching for an incisive pass. They are the contemporary embodiment of totaalvoetbal, forty years after Rinus Michels and Johan Cruyff first laid the template at the club.
If, however, we were to single out one player as the man who makes Barcelona tick, it would not be Messi but the peerless Xavi. Xavi Hernández simply oozes class. Tonight he completed 124 passes, an incredible figure that no other player in Europe can ever expect to achieve. Put into context, that's three times more than United's top passer on the night (Rio Ferdinand managed 40). He is the fulcrum on which every match rests, the man that lets Barcelona play. And yet, were it not for Barcelona's other diminutive geniuses, he would often be the smallest player on the pitch at a tiny 5"7. Xavi's brilliance makes a mockery of the notion that only the best athletes can dominate a game, a notion profoundly embedded in the British and Irish psyche to the extent that a player of genuine skill from these isles is the exception and not the rule. Barcelona's cantera focuses on the skill of these smaller players, safe in the knowledge that their faith will be vindicated as the players age. The fruits of La Masia's labour is this great Barcelona team we see today, the smallest team in Europe yet still the best.
Owned by their own supporters and, up until the beginning of next season, never bearing the name of a sponsor on their shirt, the club is clearly a rather special organisation. Such fawning over their values grates with numerous people but it is difficult to argue that they remain a class above clubs such as Real Madrid, a club that prides itself in gentlemanly conduct yet frequently attacks referees, or Chelsea, the plaything of a wealthy oligarch. While by no means are Barcelona a miserly outfit (no other team in world sports pays more in wages), they do not rely on the investment of some sugardaddy for success. The products of the cantera are equally, in fact, more important than the big-money signings. For every Dani Alves there's a Sergio Busquets, for every David Villa, a Pedro. The club has become a self-sustaining model that will continue to produce players with the Barcelona ideology imprinted in their minds, the legacy of Cruyff and Michels' groundwork.
These myriad virtues make it easy to overlook the unsavoury aspects of some of the players, notably Busquets' playacting and Alves' whingeing. I will gladly accept this admittedly irritating side to the game if it means Xavi continues to split defences with inch-perfect passes, Iniesta keeps creating space with a deft drop of the shoulder and Messi makes our jaws hit the floor with a glorious piece of improvisation that only he is capable of.
Tonight we were privileged to witness one of football's great teams deliver a superlative performance. I implore the critics to cast aside their animosity towards the negative side of Barcelona's game and the seemingly endless plaudits they receive from the press. Simply enjoy a superb team while they're still at their peak. It will be a long time till we see such a fine collection of players together again.
The plaudits will go to Lionel Messi and understandably so. He is a player of extraordinary class, a graceful juggernaut that not one defender throughout the world is capable of stopping. Yet this Barcelona team is so much more than one man, as talented as that man is. Every single player has a crucial role to play, a task to fulfill to help send their team on the way to victory. The attackers must defend and the defenders must attack, for that is the Barça way. When the opposition has the ball, Pedro and David Villa will chase down defenders until they force an error and regain possession for their team. Gerard Piqué will stride into the opponent's half, head aloft at all times, searching for an incisive pass. They are the contemporary embodiment of totaalvoetbal, forty years after Rinus Michels and Johan Cruyff first laid the template at the club.
If, however, we were to single out one player as the man who makes Barcelona tick, it would not be Messi but the peerless Xavi. Xavi Hernández simply oozes class. Tonight he completed 124 passes, an incredible figure that no other player in Europe can ever expect to achieve. Put into context, that's three times more than United's top passer on the night (Rio Ferdinand managed 40). He is the fulcrum on which every match rests, the man that lets Barcelona play. And yet, were it not for Barcelona's other diminutive geniuses, he would often be the smallest player on the pitch at a tiny 5"7. Xavi's brilliance makes a mockery of the notion that only the best athletes can dominate a game, a notion profoundly embedded in the British and Irish psyche to the extent that a player of genuine skill from these isles is the exception and not the rule. Barcelona's cantera focuses on the skill of these smaller players, safe in the knowledge that their faith will be vindicated as the players age. The fruits of La Masia's labour is this great Barcelona team we see today, the smallest team in Europe yet still the best.
Owned by their own supporters and, up until the beginning of next season, never bearing the name of a sponsor on their shirt, the club is clearly a rather special organisation. Such fawning over their values grates with numerous people but it is difficult to argue that they remain a class above clubs such as Real Madrid, a club that prides itself in gentlemanly conduct yet frequently attacks referees, or Chelsea, the plaything of a wealthy oligarch. While by no means are Barcelona a miserly outfit (no other team in world sports pays more in wages), they do not rely on the investment of some sugardaddy for success. The products of the cantera are equally, in fact, more important than the big-money signings. For every Dani Alves there's a Sergio Busquets, for every David Villa, a Pedro. The club has become a self-sustaining model that will continue to produce players with the Barcelona ideology imprinted in their minds, the legacy of Cruyff and Michels' groundwork.
These myriad virtues make it easy to overlook the unsavoury aspects of some of the players, notably Busquets' playacting and Alves' whingeing. I will gladly accept this admittedly irritating side to the game if it means Xavi continues to split defences with inch-perfect passes, Iniesta keeps creating space with a deft drop of the shoulder and Messi makes our jaws hit the floor with a glorious piece of improvisation that only he is capable of.
Tonight we were privileged to witness one of football's great teams deliver a superlative performance. I implore the critics to cast aside their animosity towards the negative side of Barcelona's game and the seemingly endless plaudits they receive from the press. Simply enjoy a superb team while they're still at their peak. It will be a long time till we see such a fine collection of players together again.
Thursday, 26 May 2011
Barcelona vs Manchester United - a review
Two days before Saturday's Champions League final, now is probably the time for a preview. This is where people offer their opinions on how United will cope with Dani Alves' rampaging runs, why Park Ji-Sung's energy may prove to be crucial or how much Saturday's referee Viktor Kassai has been paid by Barcelona / United (delete to your taste).
But just to show how much of a maverick I am, I'm posting a review. That's right, before the Sunday papers can even think of dusting off their (t)rusty typewriters, I shall don my time-travelling cap and give my insights on why Barcelona won the 2011 Champions League final (yep, they won it).
The grand scale of the occasion, as always, first became truly apparent when the teams marched onto the pitch for the first time. Led by respective captains Carles Puyol and Nemanja Vidic, two men that probably feast on lions, the players filed past Ol' Big Ears and went about the formalities. Ballboys waved as cameras panned, pennants were exchanged and Javier Hernández prayed.
Kickoff. Michael Carrick charged into the Barcelona half, demanded the ball and duly won it after a lazy pass from Busquets. Carrick steadied himself and waited for support from his teammates. In the corner of his eye, he saw something none of the Barcelona players, his United teammates or the millions watching on television had spotted. Antonio Valencia had darted into the box unnoticed and unmarked. Carrick played an inch-perfect pass with nothing but a mere glance leaving Valenica with the simple task of squaring the ball to Hernández who converted with ease. 1-0 United.
Forgive me, my memory's quite hazy after all that time travel. That previous paragraph may be slightly innaccurate. I've just realised that it was in fact Xavi who had played the killer pass, Dani Alves who had charged into the box and Pedro who had poked Barcelona, not Man United, into an early lead. Other than that, the paragraph captures exactly what happened.
Once Barcelona had gained the lead, a certain pattern began to develop. It revolved around the Chameleon, the Xavi Hernández. Michael Carrick and his midfield partner, the evergreen Welshman Ryan *NAME WITHHELD DUE TO SUPERINJUNCTION*, soon found themselves surrounded by a flurry of Catalan triangles. After twenty minutes of ceaseless geometric passing, Carrick was seen to break down in tears in the centre circle and Fergie was forced to make the first change of the match. Darron Gibson came on for Carrick, who was last seen muttering to himself in a corner in Carrington.
Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pa- Oh, who cares. Barcelona won 3-0 and managed 71% ball possession. Xavi completed 114 passes and even scored a rare goal to cap off Pedro's earlier tap-in and Messi's mazy dribble that took him past six United defenders, Edwin Van Der Sar, the referee and a streaker before stroking the ball into the net. United finished with ten men after Vidic hauled down David Villa one too many times and United's dreams of a double were over.
A superb performance from Barcelona that surely cements their position as one of football's greatest ever teams. Their victory was marred by tragedy, however, when Dani Alves, Sergio Busquets and Pedro were all killed when Wesley Brown stared in their direction in a threatening manner. Michael Owen's attempts at trying to blend in with the Barcelona team as they made their way up the stands to collect their winners' medals were thwarted when he was ejected by a steward who thought he was a mischievous ballboy.
Quite a final. Congratulations Barcelona, Champions League winners 2011.
But just to show how much of a maverick I am, I'm posting a review. That's right, before the Sunday papers can even think of dusting off their (t)rusty typewriters, I shall don my time-travelling cap and give my insights on why Barcelona won the 2011 Champions League final (yep, they won it).
The grand scale of the occasion, as always, first became truly apparent when the teams marched onto the pitch for the first time. Led by respective captains Carles Puyol and Nemanja Vidic, two men that probably feast on lions, the players filed past Ol' Big Ears and went about the formalities. Ballboys waved as cameras panned, pennants were exchanged and Javier Hernández prayed.
Kickoff. Michael Carrick charged into the Barcelona half, demanded the ball and duly won it after a lazy pass from Busquets. Carrick steadied himself and waited for support from his teammates. In the corner of his eye, he saw something none of the Barcelona players, his United teammates or the millions watching on television had spotted. Antonio Valencia had darted into the box unnoticed and unmarked. Carrick played an inch-perfect pass with nothing but a mere glance leaving Valenica with the simple task of squaring the ball to Hernández who converted with ease. 1-0 United.
Forgive me, my memory's quite hazy after all that time travel. That previous paragraph may be slightly innaccurate. I've just realised that it was in fact Xavi who had played the killer pass, Dani Alves who had charged into the box and Pedro who had poked Barcelona, not Man United, into an early lead. Other than that, the paragraph captures exactly what happened.
Once Barcelona had gained the lead, a certain pattern began to develop. It revolved around the Chameleon, the Xavi Hernández. Michael Carrick and his midfield partner, the evergreen Welshman Ryan *NAME WITHHELD DUE TO SUPERINJUNCTION*, soon found themselves surrounded by a flurry of Catalan triangles. After twenty minutes of ceaseless geometric passing, Carrick was seen to break down in tears in the centre circle and Fergie was forced to make the first change of the match. Darron Gibson came on for Carrick, who was last seen muttering to himself in a corner in Carrington.
Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pa- Oh, who cares. Barcelona won 3-0 and managed 71% ball possession. Xavi completed 114 passes and even scored a rare goal to cap off Pedro's earlier tap-in and Messi's mazy dribble that took him past six United defenders, Edwin Van Der Sar, the referee and a streaker before stroking the ball into the net. United finished with ten men after Vidic hauled down David Villa one too many times and United's dreams of a double were over.
A superb performance from Barcelona that surely cements their position as one of football's greatest ever teams. Their victory was marred by tragedy, however, when Dani Alves, Sergio Busquets and Pedro were all killed when Wesley Brown stared in their direction in a threatening manner. Michael Owen's attempts at trying to blend in with the Barcelona team as they made their way up the stands to collect their winners' medals were thwarted when he was ejected by a steward who thought he was a mischievous ballboy.
Quite a final. Congratulations Barcelona, Champions League winners 2011.
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