Pep

The most beautiful football I have ever watched was played by Pep Guardiola’s Barcelona c. 2008 - c.2010. It was a mesmerising, captivating brand of football. The ball moved in these tight, intricate geometries that were absolutely hypnotising to watch. It was such an elevated form of the game that it almost looked like scoring and winning was not the point - the point was to exist on a plane far above mortal men and flawed footballers. But of course they did score, plenty, and won, plenty more. 

What we saw last night with Pep Guardiola’s Manchester City was altogether something different. In this one, there is no disguising that the point was to win. But it was as if the winning was not enough. Man City put Real Madrid to the sword in a way that they had probably not experienced in a long while. As we noted at half time, Real Madrid was subjected to a merciless half of football that they had not seen in decades, if ever. Man City was playing such a breathless, relentless, overwhelming brand of football that the commentator remarked that they probably didn’t know what day of the week it was. And this was not a bottom-of-the-table outfit, a relegation-bound journeyman team. This was European royalty - a team that has been synonymous with the European Cup since the 1950s. And it was not some meaningless group game - it was the semi-final, with all at stake. City stepped on the throat of their opponents and did not let up until Real cried uncle, at which point they were four goals down. Man City were cruel, pitilessly pounding Real like a fit young boxer finally showing up an aging former champion. They could have won that match 7- or even 8-0, and it would have looked like a legitimate scoreline. The Scandinavian Cyborg, Erling Haaland, never even quite got into gear. But for the heroics of Thibaut Courtois, this would have been a massacre of epic proportions. 

It is scary soccer. The most commonly expressed sentiments from fans of other teams in the Premiership was ‘heh! afadhali sisi hatukuchapwa hivyo’. Poor Chelsea. This is nothing so much as that cartoon with the terrified little girl driving down the road, with a relentless juggernaut bearing down remorselessly on her. 

Of course Man City has a gusher of Arab oil money lubricating the process, but so do Paris Saint Germain and Newcastle and even smaller clubs like Schalke. Of course Pep has the pick of the world’s best players, but stitching them into such a championship side is not a given. Just ask all the clubs which have gone with a galacticos model, starting with PSG themselves. No, we have to admit that Pep Guardiola, who expends as much physical and psychic energy as his players during matches - gesticulating, running down the touchline, falling to his knees - has something that few others do. He is, by my reckoning, perhaps the best coach of his generation, and one of the best ever.

And trust me, coming from an Arsenal fan, that admission is the most painful result of all.