In Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, Chuck Klosterman
details a ridiculous hypothetical
scenario. As I remember it today, it went something like this:
To me, the idea that someone's sporting tastes would change in just a handful of years seemed crazy, even by the standard set by Klosterman in his hypotheticals. (And the standard was pretty low, or high, or maybe you judge: one hypothetical asks if a cat who read at a twelfth-grade level would find Garfield offensive). It seemed obvious that, in a decade, I would watch Patriots football, Celtics basketball, and Red Sox baseball, as always. If I ever watched soccer, it would mean the New England Revolution made some sort of leap to national relevance (editor's note: ha ha ha).
Well, at 2:45pm EST on Saturday, June 3, Real Madrid of Spain will line up against Juventus of Italy in the final of the UEFA Champions League. This game, which crowns the club soccer champion of Europe, is the final of the sport's most prestigious club competition. The winner on Saturday will be widely considered the best club side in the world.
And I will likely be sitting alone in my room, gleefully muttering to myself, and completely locked in for those two hours.
What the hell happened in the last twelve years?
Let's examine each final in turn and see if we can't figure it out. Things surprisingly (editor's note: ha ha ha) ran a bit long so we'll do it in multiple parts- not too many but more than two- over the next few weeks.
Thanks for reading-and good luck enjoy.
Tim
1988-2004: Blissful (?) ignorance (???)
It's hard to recall what I thought 'world football' looked like in these dark days. I remember the USA losing to Brazil in 1994 on my first Fourth of July in America. In 1998, I knew there was something 'political' about the USA playing Iran in the World Cup- unfortunately, I knew less about politics than I did soccer, so this was a non-event as well.
I did a little better four years later. I recall watching the 2002 USA-Germany World Cup quarterfinal on the Spanish channel. The picture was as fuzzy as my understanding- but even I knew Frings handled. At this point, let's say I was 'dimly aware' of international soccer.
But club football was a different story. I knew of the J-League (Japan's cleverly named national soccer league) and occasionally watched the MLS (America's idiotically named national soccer league). I was, however, definitely unaware of the European Cup or its successor, the UEFA Champions League. To say 'I knew next to nothing' about club football in Europe would be a lie- at this point, I knew exactly nothing about club football in Europe.
It goes without saying that I missed each of the finals during this time period.
2005: Liverpool 3, AC Milan 3 (Liverpool won on penalties)
I do not count this among the eleven finals I watched because I only saw two minutes of the game- it seems like at least a half is required to count it as a full viewing. The minutes in question were the third and fourth, seen by accident when I wandered into a friend's house. We left moments later to make our way to the cemetery to work on a history project (something to do with local veterans) (1).
2006: Barcelona 2, Arsenal 1
I got access to cable TV in the winter of 2006. I'm hooked, but only briefly, for I quickly learned the little secret kept from me by friends throughout my childhood- cable TV sucks.
I might have stopped watching TV entirely at this point. However, one night I stumbled across the Fox Soccer Channel. I developed my new awareness of the sport by watching replays of games late at night on this now-defunct station. In between games, I researched the sport's history on Wikipedia. In just a couple of months, I was conversationally fluent in all aspects of the game.
My new passion for the game reflected (though 'outpaced' might be a better word here) an increasing interest in the sport among my friends. A group of us got together at my friend Rob's house to watch this match.
We finalized the 'venue' based on the size of the TV. Back then, HD flatscreens were rare, so his massive set that took up about twenty five square feet of space was considered the Best Available TV.
In 2006, the game kicked off at 2:45pm on a Wednesday. The switch to Saturday was years away. We agreed to watch the match via tape delay due to commitments with school or sports.
I took on the critical role of videotaping the game on a VCR. Somehow, only one of the group found out the score of the game beforehand (though he did not know the winner). It is hard to imagine that happening now. In those days, we had cell phones but cell phones didn't have internet.
It worked out about as well as it could for him, I suppose, as the 1-1 deadlock was broken just ten minutes from full time.
2007: Milan 2, Liverpool 1
This viewing took place two blocks away from the prior year's. I cannot remember why since nothing about TV size had changed in the previous year. In any event, all of us were out of high school at this point and so we watched this game live.
A full year at college proved significant in terms of developing my interest in the sport. For the first time, people I interacted with on a daily basis considered the results from Europe's leagues as 'news'. Advances in technology also contributed- though games appeared on US TV every now and then, the internet offered plenty of options for those seeking a live stream.
Many of my hometown friends continued the progression from 'non-soccer viewers' to 'soccer viewers' that I noted the prior year. We were at the age where free time remained plentiful and athletic activity the preferred boredom killer. A lot of time the prior summer was spent playing pickup games at my former elementary school; the intent was for 'Oldham FC', as our Facebook group was called, to resume informal action once again in the weeks after the final (2).
My full immersion in the sport remained somewhat unusual among these friends. It was odd to come home and have my changing sports interests viewed with a degree of suspicion. Wasn't the point of college to get into new surroundings, learn a little bit about different people, and try some new things? And yet there I was, having accomplished an irrelevant version of it, and all I saw was a crack, the first hint of separation, appearing between me and those I used to see everyday.
All of that fled my mind at the time of kickoff. I was too excited- by this time, I was a full-speed Liverpool supporter and eagerly anticipating their upcoming victory.
Liverpool coped effectively with Milan's threat for most of the first half. The game turned on a farcical moment just before halftime, however. Milan took a free-kick that deflected off a player's back and into the goal. Liverpool were forced to abandon their strategy of using defensive midfielder Mascherano to track the unstoppable Kaka. Instead of probing carefully for a goal, they chased the game in the second half.
Benitez eventually substituted Mascherano for an attacker and, though well-intended, the result of the sacrifice was predictable: Kaka, freed from his shackles, danced around Reina and netted a decisive second just a minute later.
In hindsight, perhaps a Liverpool victory was not the foregone conclusion as I hoped it to be. The team was good, not elite. They finished seven victories behind Manchester United in the league standings. Milan, on the other hand, were considered among the continent's best. But since Liverpool had a knack for taking on better opponents and were among the toughest teams to beat in any single game during this season, I was understandably confident about their chances (3).
In the end, the result was disappointing but nothing to worry about. Liverpool was a dominant European force. It was their second final in three seasons. They would be back.
2008: Manchester United 1, Chelsea 1 (United won on penalties)
This was the height of English club superiority on the continent and the battle between London-based Chelsea and Manchester United accurately reflected this reality. Unfortunately for neutral fans, these great English teams were built around organized defending, loathsome personnel, and a reliance on physical superiority. A 'tug of war' match would have been more entertaining than this game.
England's fortunes at club level contrasted with the state of chaos in their national team. Just months prior to the final, the national team fell, 2-1, against Russia during the qualification tournament for the 2008 European Championship. It was a hugely damaging loss in a campaign that ended with England's surprising failure to qualify.
Rather than acknowledge the flaws in their national team or pin responsibility on the players for a series of listless performances, the ridiculous English press blamed the artificial turf (also 'plastic pitch', also 'synthetic surface') of the Luzhniki Stadium in Moscow. I suppose the English hallmarks of wild slide tackles, booting the ball thirty yards over the goal, and picking up yellow cards for dissent were all more easily accomplished on grass.
There was also righteous outrage about the Russians 'watering the field' before kickoff. Apparently, irrigation favored the home side. I assume this was due to their proclivity to pass and shoot, skills that a slicker surface tends to enhance.
With the memory of that game lingering in the minds of the English press, the two clubs kicked off at the Luzhniki. It seemed appropriate that this game was contested during a driving rainstorm. And though an imported grass surface was overlaid on the widely ridiculed 'plastic pitch' for the final, no amount of cosmetics improved the entertainment value of this game.
The highlight was a minor brawl taking place after some whining about acceptable behavior following a throw-in. It culminated with Drogba's red card for slapping someone. I recognized the scene- selfish me-first 'stars' flopping all over the place, referees with no control over the game, and off-court 'storylines' having nothing to do with the process of the game itself. It was the NBA.
Did I really look forward to this nonsense all year? And what was the point of watching soccer if it was just another American sport in disguise? Looking back, it seems a minor miracle that I kept watching (4).
As it tends to go in these cases, the Game That Nobody Asked For went first into extra time, then to a penalty shootout. Both Ronaldo and Terry missed, a small victory for the neutrals. But unfortunately, the structure of the shootout meant one of these loathsome teams eventually won. I think it was United.
Exercises in tedium like the 2008 final were my initial exposure to the value soccer fans placed on style of play. Teams described as playing a 'free flowing' or 'attractive' style were lauded whether they won or lost. Players who could 'express themselves' were favored to their earnest but functional colleagues.
Winning mattered to these fans, of course, but the style of play came into consideration at a degree I was not used to. From my experience following sports, winning mattered first and style, in theory, was nice to have. But in soccer conversations, the idea of 'attractive football' was an important discussion point. Managers who played a better style were sometimes preferred to those who consistently won with blunter tactics.
This final was the first time I really started relating to the idea. Both sides were pragmatic at the cost of style. And the result was two-hour rock fight. Who would spend any time watching this? Life, like any match, is too short.
2009: Barcelona 2, Manchester United 0
Ah, more like it.
The big story going into this one was about United's Ronaldo being some kind of choke-artist, a semi-unfair label that he unfortunately contributed to with the prior season's penalty shootout miss. It was also the start of the whole 'Messi v Ronaldo' debate. As usual, looking back on these things makes me wonder why anyone ever watches the news.
On a broader level, the game represented a litmus test for what represented winning tactics. The English, so dominant in the mid-to-late 2000s, sat at home and watched as Spain won the 2008 European Championship. The kicker, so to speak, was that the Spanish triumphed while displaying none of the hallmarks of the dominant English club sides.
Spain accomplished that little trick English teams outside of Arsenal could not quite get the hang of- passing to each other- and confirmed the somewhat starry-eyed era of short passing football was in full swing. (The style was officially known as 'tiki-taka', a Spanish expression that I believe means 'short passing football'.) Many teams in the world would fail to imitate this effectively in the next few years, mostly because many teams lacked the very specific types of players (short, skilled, and Spanish) required to do this properly.
Barcelona was the club embodiment of the Spanish national team's philosophy. Watching them win this game was a revelation. As Barcelona dinked, dribbled, and danced their way past a stationary United, I realized what I missed every time I rolled my eyes at the idea of 'attractive football'- to put together anything truly worth building, function must follow form (5).
The highlight of this game was Messi heading in the second goal. One concession even the most ardent Messi supporter gave to the Ronaldo camp was the Portuguese's superior aerial ability. Well, game on, seemed the message from the Argentine as he wheeled away from the rippling net, the scoreboard recording his contribution to the eventual final scoreline.
2010: Internazionale 2, Bayern Munich 0
The tide continued to shift in Europe as England's stranglehold on the competition loosened. Unfortunately, I knew English teams better than I did others and perhaps that contributed to this match's forgettable nature. So though Milan's crosstown rival and Germany's biggest club were two of Europe's biggest names, to me they remained only ideas I was vaguely aware of.
What hurts this final in retrospect was that the most interesting aspect of the season came during the semi-finals. Internazionale, or Inter, knocked out the defending champions, Barcelona. Since semi-finals happen over two legs (a leg being another word for match) the scores are added together to determine the winner. Each team hosts one leg. If the scores are tied, the team who scored more goals as the away team advances. If that does not break the tie, thirty additional minutes are played. If it remains tied (with the away-goals idea reapplied) a penalty shootout settles the matter.
Got it? Good.
In the first leg, Inter hosted Barcelona. In the days before the match, a volcano erupted in Iceland, covering Europe in smoke, ash, and (not too much) lava. Air travel ground to a halt. So, instead of flying, the champions rode a train to Italy and lost, 3-1. In the second leg, Inter flew to Spain and famously protected their lead by basically having the entire team stand inside the goal. They held on and, though losing 1-0 on the night, progressed to the final thanks to a 3-2 aggregate advantage.
This semi-final reminds me of three things. First, in soccer, goals are scored one at a time (glad I'm here to clear this up). This means that teams never score a goal that brings them from a losing position into a winning position. Teams can tie OR take the lead- but never both- with one goal.
The away goals rule changes this. In the second leg of the semi-final, a Barcelona goal that gave them a 2-0 win would also have tied the series, 3-3. But since they scored in Italy, Barcelona would also hold the away-goals tiebreaker, 1-0. When the score was 1-0, Barcelona was winning on the night but losing the series. Had they scored one more goal, they would have been winning the series.
I think this phenomenon contributes to the wild popularity of the tournament. In this sport, there is no other time when a single goal can propel a team from a losing to a winning position. And although learning to appreciate the 'value' of a draw is a major step in learning how to appreciate soccer, the draw is usually relevant only in a larger league or tournament context. When the situation is win or go home, nothing beats the drama of a losing team fighting desperately to score a go-ahead goal.
The second thing is this video of Inter's manager, Jose Mourinho, 'celebrating' after 'masterminding' his team's 'tactics' throughout the 1-0 loss. The opposing goalkeeper, Valdes, is trying to keep Mourinho away from the Barcelona fans. But Mourinho, despite the evidence in the video, is an adult. He taunts who he wants. This clip makes me laugh every time I watch it.
The reaction to Mourinho contributes to my growing understanding of the sport's very un-American obsession with style. Many criticized his tactics in the post-match and accused him of playing 'anti-football'- a hilarious expression that explains itself- instead of applauding his genius in finding a way to stop the great Barcelona team. It's process over results at its finest.
The last thing of note takes me back to my final college basketball game. We left campus for a vital conference tournament game expecting to be on the bus for three hours. Eleven hours later, we arrived at our destination thanks to the road-clogging efforts of a snowstorm. Such is the nature of New England weather.
The next morning's game tipped off at noon. Though the team's morale was high entering the game, the aftereffects of arriving at the hotel so late the prior night (or perhaps so early the same morning) proved too much. We had no chance.
I usually would have had little sympathy for a Barcelona side blaming its first-leg loss on a train trip. Many would consider such a trip across Western Europe an integral part of a relaxing vacation.
But in this case, I understood the feeling. With some things in life, you get one chance. And although one chance might be all you need- any great goal scorer would agree- in those circumstances, you best not miss.
Footnotes / imagined complaints
1. A microcosm of how new things start?
I suppose I eased my way into being a soccer fan in a fashion similar to how young players start their playing careers. At first, they make substitute appearances, coming in for a few minutes here, a half-hour there. As they develop their understanding of the game and build familiarity with their team, they begin playing entire games. I was, in a sense, no different- this first cameo appearance started a slow progression of viewing that eventually became a full decade of consistent Champions League final viewing.
Missing this game, in hindsight, was tough timing for me. Liverpool's comeback win after trailing 3-0 at halftime is considered one of the sport's most memorable games. A year after this game, I become a full-fledged Liverpool fan, the timing akin to that of someone hitting the lottery on the first drawing after the record setting jackpot- it worked out just fine...but still.
2. Oldham FC
Using social media to track yellow card totals and describe embarrassing missed goals for posterity caught the attention of True Football Fans abroad. Our group was contacted by supporters of Oldham Athletic AFC, a third-tier club located just outside of Manchester, England, UK, (back then) Europe.
These folks thought it would be a fine idea for us to serve as an unofficial fan club for their side. To help us better understand our mission, they related the history of the club, compared our misfiring wannabe goal-scorers to their prolific forwards, and posted pictures of glamour models wearing Oldham kits (uniforms) to our page.
The interaction with these earnest supporters was a lot of fun and I made an honest effort to follow the team's results in the following years.
3. Liverpool 2006-2007
The round of sixteen win at Barcelona and the semi-final shootout win at home over Chelsea remain among my favorite Liverpool memories. Both results were surprising at the time. The key was manager Rafa Benitez, a tactical mastermind who consistently crafted teams that punched above its weight in European competition. The question entering the final was- how would Benitez stop Kaka, Milan's all-world attacking midfielder?
I talked about the possibilities for the entire month of May with anyone who would listen (which was no one). When the game kicked off, the plan to use Mascherano (the great defensive midfielder and perhaps my first true favorite player) to track Kaka all over the field became immediately apparent.
4. Or maybe I conveniently 'forgot' this game happened...
It is possible that watching 'elite' English clubs show off their agricultural tactics left me with concussion-like symptoms for days after the final whistle, causing me to forget any resolutions made during the 2008 final like 'give cricket a try in 2009'.
5. Japan tangent
The 2009 final was my first exposure to the tiki-taka style. Though Spain famously played in a similar fashion during their triumph in 2008, I missed most of their continental triumph the previous summer thanks to my trip to Japan.
The trip was my first to Japan since I moved to the USA in 1994. At that time, each country was just initiating major, near-parallel efforts to create interest in the sport. Japan's first season of its current top professional league, the J-League, kicked off in 1993, while America's MLS began play just a year later. The leagues picked up significant momentum on the back of successful World Cup hosting duties (America in 1994, Japan in 2002). Ideally, these efforts would aid the development of players that could compete internationally against the top talent from Europe and South America. Over time, the logic went that producing top players would equip the national teams to compete for World Cups.
Almost a decade and a half after my move, it struck me how much further along the sport seemed in Japan than back in the USA. The American approach to cultivating talent was, in one sense, too American to compete with the rest of the world. Budding talents often played in high school and college systems that were better suited to developing basketball or helmet football players- sports where the critical development years came late in adolescence. MLS was structured like other American professional leagues- with an imbalanced regular season schedule, a post-season playoff tournament, and a draft system to distribute new players- and this rewarded teams who were poor at identifying and developing talent with the best young players instead of putting them out of business (as was the case in Europe).
When the American team failed at international level, fans at home fantasized about hypothetical teams featuring top athletes from other sports and crowned these squads champions-elect, often failing to note that American teams were already among the fittest teams at World Cup tournaments. The US team needed better players, not better athletes.
On the other hand, Japan's development setup closely imitated the methods of established powerhouses. Young players trained with clubs before reaching puberty and there was no suggestion that academic institutions were responsible for cultivating the potential of the next generation of star players. The J-League was structured like their European counterparts and aligned the incentives of teams with those of both the players and the national team- to become the best footballing nation on the planet.
When Japanese teams failed at international level, efforts were redoubled on developing skills, importing the best coaches, and identifying best practices from successful nations around the globe.
6. Is this why I don't remember a ton of hockey highlights?
When I think of the great highlights from other sports, the buzzer-beaters or last minute scoring that comes to mind almost always involves a helmet football, basketball, or baseball team going from a trailing position to a winning one.
Suppose you have no interest in Canadian football. One day, you are shown a vision which, in this hypothetical, represents the unchangeable future. In this vision, you are clearly many years older. You are alone and mumbling to yourself with pure delight. Surrounding you is all kinds of Canadian football memorabilia. A game is on TV, which you watch intently. Clearly, sometime between the present and this point in the future, you have become a massive fan of Canadian football.
The next day, you are flipping channels when you see the final of the Canadian Football League on TV.
What do you do?When I first read this hypothetical, I was likely around eighteen years old. I probably laughed it off- what a weird concept! I was a diehard helmet football fan who was committed to Boston's teams- some might have argued that I should have been committed, such was my level of fandom.
To me, the idea that someone's sporting tastes would change in just a handful of years seemed crazy, even by the standard set by Klosterman in his hypotheticals. (And the standard was pretty low, or high, or maybe you judge: one hypothetical asks if a cat who read at a twelfth-grade level would find Garfield offensive). It seemed obvious that, in a decade, I would watch Patriots football, Celtics basketball, and Red Sox baseball, as always. If I ever watched soccer, it would mean the New England Revolution made some sort of leap to national relevance (editor's note: ha ha ha).
Well, at 2:45pm EST on Saturday, June 3, Real Madrid of Spain will line up against Juventus of Italy in the final of the UEFA Champions League. This game, which crowns the club soccer champion of Europe, is the final of the sport's most prestigious club competition. The winner on Saturday will be widely considered the best club side in the world.
And I will likely be sitting alone in my room, gleefully muttering to myself, and completely locked in for those two hours.
What the hell happened in the last twelve years?
Let's examine each final in turn and see if we can't figure it out. Things surprisingly (editor's note: ha ha ha) ran a bit long so we'll do it in multiple parts- not too many but more than two- over the next few weeks.
Thanks for reading-
Tim
1988-2004: Blissful (?) ignorance (???)
It's hard to recall what I thought 'world football' looked like in these dark days. I remember the USA losing to Brazil in 1994 on my first Fourth of July in America. In 1998, I knew there was something 'political' about the USA playing Iran in the World Cup- unfortunately, I knew less about politics than I did soccer, so this was a non-event as well.
I did a little better four years later. I recall watching the 2002 USA-Germany World Cup quarterfinal on the Spanish channel. The picture was as fuzzy as my understanding- but even I knew Frings handled. At this point, let's say I was 'dimly aware' of international soccer.
But club football was a different story. I knew of the J-League (Japan's cleverly named national soccer league) and occasionally watched the MLS (America's idiotically named national soccer league). I was, however, definitely unaware of the European Cup or its successor, the UEFA Champions League. To say 'I knew next to nothing' about club football in Europe would be a lie- at this point, I knew exactly nothing about club football in Europe.
It goes without saying that I missed each of the finals during this time period.
2005: Liverpool 3, AC Milan 3 (Liverpool won on penalties)
I do not count this among the eleven finals I watched because I only saw two minutes of the game- it seems like at least a half is required to count it as a full viewing. The minutes in question were the third and fourth, seen by accident when I wandered into a friend's house. We left moments later to make our way to the cemetery to work on a history project (something to do with local veterans) (1).
2006: Barcelona 2, Arsenal 1
I got access to cable TV in the winter of 2006. I'm hooked, but only briefly, for I quickly learned the little secret kept from me by friends throughout my childhood- cable TV sucks.
I might have stopped watching TV entirely at this point. However, one night I stumbled across the Fox Soccer Channel. I developed my new awareness of the sport by watching replays of games late at night on this now-defunct station. In between games, I researched the sport's history on Wikipedia. In just a couple of months, I was conversationally fluent in all aspects of the game.
My new passion for the game reflected (though 'outpaced' might be a better word here) an increasing interest in the sport among my friends. A group of us got together at my friend Rob's house to watch this match.
We finalized the 'venue' based on the size of the TV. Back then, HD flatscreens were rare, so his massive set that took up about twenty five square feet of space was considered the Best Available TV.
In 2006, the game kicked off at 2:45pm on a Wednesday. The switch to Saturday was years away. We agreed to watch the match via tape delay due to commitments with school or sports.
I took on the critical role of videotaping the game on a VCR. Somehow, only one of the group found out the score of the game beforehand (though he did not know the winner). It is hard to imagine that happening now. In those days, we had cell phones but cell phones didn't have internet.
It worked out about as well as it could for him, I suppose, as the 1-1 deadlock was broken just ten minutes from full time.
2007: Milan 2, Liverpool 1
This viewing took place two blocks away from the prior year's. I cannot remember why since nothing about TV size had changed in the previous year. In any event, all of us were out of high school at this point and so we watched this game live.
A full year at college proved significant in terms of developing my interest in the sport. For the first time, people I interacted with on a daily basis considered the results from Europe's leagues as 'news'. Advances in technology also contributed- though games appeared on US TV every now and then, the internet offered plenty of options for those seeking a live stream.
Many of my hometown friends continued the progression from 'non-soccer viewers' to 'soccer viewers' that I noted the prior year. We were at the age where free time remained plentiful and athletic activity the preferred boredom killer. A lot of time the prior summer was spent playing pickup games at my former elementary school; the intent was for 'Oldham FC', as our Facebook group was called, to resume informal action once again in the weeks after the final (2).
My full immersion in the sport remained somewhat unusual among these friends. It was odd to come home and have my changing sports interests viewed with a degree of suspicion. Wasn't the point of college to get into new surroundings, learn a little bit about different people, and try some new things? And yet there I was, having accomplished an irrelevant version of it, and all I saw was a crack, the first hint of separation, appearing between me and those I used to see everyday.
All of that fled my mind at the time of kickoff. I was too excited- by this time, I was a full-speed Liverpool supporter and eagerly anticipating their upcoming victory.
Liverpool coped effectively with Milan's threat for most of the first half. The game turned on a farcical moment just before halftime, however. Milan took a free-kick that deflected off a player's back and into the goal. Liverpool were forced to abandon their strategy of using defensive midfielder Mascherano to track the unstoppable Kaka. Instead of probing carefully for a goal, they chased the game in the second half.
Benitez eventually substituted Mascherano for an attacker and, though well-intended, the result of the sacrifice was predictable: Kaka, freed from his shackles, danced around Reina and netted a decisive second just a minute later.
In hindsight, perhaps a Liverpool victory was not the foregone conclusion as I hoped it to be. The team was good, not elite. They finished seven victories behind Manchester United in the league standings. Milan, on the other hand, were considered among the continent's best. But since Liverpool had a knack for taking on better opponents and were among the toughest teams to beat in any single game during this season, I was understandably confident about their chances (3).
In the end, the result was disappointing but nothing to worry about. Liverpool was a dominant European force. It was their second final in three seasons. They would be back.
2008: Manchester United 1, Chelsea 1 (United won on penalties)
This was the height of English club superiority on the continent and the battle between London-based Chelsea and Manchester United accurately reflected this reality. Unfortunately for neutral fans, these great English teams were built around organized defending, loathsome personnel, and a reliance on physical superiority. A 'tug of war' match would have been more entertaining than this game.
England's fortunes at club level contrasted with the state of chaos in their national team. Just months prior to the final, the national team fell, 2-1, against Russia during the qualification tournament for the 2008 European Championship. It was a hugely damaging loss in a campaign that ended with England's surprising failure to qualify.
Rather than acknowledge the flaws in their national team or pin responsibility on the players for a series of listless performances, the ridiculous English press blamed the artificial turf (also 'plastic pitch', also 'synthetic surface') of the Luzhniki Stadium in Moscow. I suppose the English hallmarks of wild slide tackles, booting the ball thirty yards over the goal, and picking up yellow cards for dissent were all more easily accomplished on grass.
There was also righteous outrage about the Russians 'watering the field' before kickoff. Apparently, irrigation favored the home side. I assume this was due to their proclivity to pass and shoot, skills that a slicker surface tends to enhance.
With the memory of that game lingering in the minds of the English press, the two clubs kicked off at the Luzhniki. It seemed appropriate that this game was contested during a driving rainstorm. And though an imported grass surface was overlaid on the widely ridiculed 'plastic pitch' for the final, no amount of cosmetics improved the entertainment value of this game.
The highlight was a minor brawl taking place after some whining about acceptable behavior following a throw-in. It culminated with Drogba's red card for slapping someone. I recognized the scene- selfish me-first 'stars' flopping all over the place, referees with no control over the game, and off-court 'storylines' having nothing to do with the process of the game itself. It was the NBA.
Did I really look forward to this nonsense all year? And what was the point of watching soccer if it was just another American sport in disguise? Looking back, it seems a minor miracle that I kept watching (4).
As it tends to go in these cases, the Game That Nobody Asked For went first into extra time, then to a penalty shootout. Both Ronaldo and Terry missed, a small victory for the neutrals. But unfortunately, the structure of the shootout meant one of these loathsome teams eventually won. I think it was United.
Exercises in tedium like the 2008 final were my initial exposure to the value soccer fans placed on style of play. Teams described as playing a 'free flowing' or 'attractive' style were lauded whether they won or lost. Players who could 'express themselves' were favored to their earnest but functional colleagues.
Winning mattered to these fans, of course, but the style of play came into consideration at a degree I was not used to. From my experience following sports, winning mattered first and style, in theory, was nice to have. But in soccer conversations, the idea of 'attractive football' was an important discussion point. Managers who played a better style were sometimes preferred to those who consistently won with blunter tactics.
This final was the first time I really started relating to the idea. Both sides were pragmatic at the cost of style. And the result was two-hour rock fight. Who would spend any time watching this? Life, like any match, is too short.
2009: Barcelona 2, Manchester United 0
Ah, more like it.
The big story going into this one was about United's Ronaldo being some kind of choke-artist, a semi-unfair label that he unfortunately contributed to with the prior season's penalty shootout miss. It was also the start of the whole 'Messi v Ronaldo' debate. As usual, looking back on these things makes me wonder why anyone ever watches the news.
On a broader level, the game represented a litmus test for what represented winning tactics. The English, so dominant in the mid-to-late 2000s, sat at home and watched as Spain won the 2008 European Championship. The kicker, so to speak, was that the Spanish triumphed while displaying none of the hallmarks of the dominant English club sides.
Spain accomplished that little trick English teams outside of Arsenal could not quite get the hang of- passing to each other- and confirmed the somewhat starry-eyed era of short passing football was in full swing. (The style was officially known as 'tiki-taka', a Spanish expression that I believe means 'short passing football'.) Many teams in the world would fail to imitate this effectively in the next few years, mostly because many teams lacked the very specific types of players (short, skilled, and Spanish) required to do this properly.
Barcelona was the club embodiment of the Spanish national team's philosophy. Watching them win this game was a revelation. As Barcelona dinked, dribbled, and danced their way past a stationary United, I realized what I missed every time I rolled my eyes at the idea of 'attractive football'- to put together anything truly worth building, function must follow form (5).
The highlight of this game was Messi heading in the second goal. One concession even the most ardent Messi supporter gave to the Ronaldo camp was the Portuguese's superior aerial ability. Well, game on, seemed the message from the Argentine as he wheeled away from the rippling net, the scoreboard recording his contribution to the eventual final scoreline.
2010: Internazionale 2, Bayern Munich 0
The tide continued to shift in Europe as England's stranglehold on the competition loosened. Unfortunately, I knew English teams better than I did others and perhaps that contributed to this match's forgettable nature. So though Milan's crosstown rival and Germany's biggest club were two of Europe's biggest names, to me they remained only ideas I was vaguely aware of.
What hurts this final in retrospect was that the most interesting aspect of the season came during the semi-finals. Internazionale, or Inter, knocked out the defending champions, Barcelona. Since semi-finals happen over two legs (a leg being another word for match) the scores are added together to determine the winner. Each team hosts one leg. If the scores are tied, the team who scored more goals as the away team advances. If that does not break the tie, thirty additional minutes are played. If it remains tied (with the away-goals idea reapplied) a penalty shootout settles the matter.
Got it? Good.
In the first leg, Inter hosted Barcelona. In the days before the match, a volcano erupted in Iceland, covering Europe in smoke, ash, and (not too much) lava. Air travel ground to a halt. So, instead of flying, the champions rode a train to Italy and lost, 3-1. In the second leg, Inter flew to Spain and famously protected their lead by basically having the entire team stand inside the goal. They held on and, though losing 1-0 on the night, progressed to the final thanks to a 3-2 aggregate advantage.
This semi-final reminds me of three things. First, in soccer, goals are scored one at a time (glad I'm here to clear this up). This means that teams never score a goal that brings them from a losing position into a winning position. Teams can tie OR take the lead- but never both- with one goal.
The away goals rule changes this. In the second leg of the semi-final, a Barcelona goal that gave them a 2-0 win would also have tied the series, 3-3. But since they scored in Italy, Barcelona would also hold the away-goals tiebreaker, 1-0. When the score was 1-0, Barcelona was winning on the night but losing the series. Had they scored one more goal, they would have been winning the series.
I think this phenomenon contributes to the wild popularity of the tournament. In this sport, there is no other time when a single goal can propel a team from a losing to a winning position. And although learning to appreciate the 'value' of a draw is a major step in learning how to appreciate soccer, the draw is usually relevant only in a larger league or tournament context. When the situation is win or go home, nothing beats the drama of a losing team fighting desperately to score a go-ahead goal.
The second thing is this video of Inter's manager, Jose Mourinho, 'celebrating' after 'masterminding' his team's 'tactics' throughout the 1-0 loss. The opposing goalkeeper, Valdes, is trying to keep Mourinho away from the Barcelona fans. But Mourinho, despite the evidence in the video, is an adult. He taunts who he wants. This clip makes me laugh every time I watch it.
The reaction to Mourinho contributes to my growing understanding of the sport's very un-American obsession with style. Many criticized his tactics in the post-match and accused him of playing 'anti-football'- a hilarious expression that explains itself- instead of applauding his genius in finding a way to stop the great Barcelona team. It's process over results at its finest.
The last thing of note takes me back to my final college basketball game. We left campus for a vital conference tournament game expecting to be on the bus for three hours. Eleven hours later, we arrived at our destination thanks to the road-clogging efforts of a snowstorm. Such is the nature of New England weather.
The next morning's game tipped off at noon. Though the team's morale was high entering the game, the aftereffects of arriving at the hotel so late the prior night (or perhaps so early the same morning) proved too much. We had no chance.
I usually would have had little sympathy for a Barcelona side blaming its first-leg loss on a train trip. Many would consider such a trip across Western Europe an integral part of a relaxing vacation.
But in this case, I understood the feeling. With some things in life, you get one chance. And although one chance might be all you need- any great goal scorer would agree- in those circumstances, you best not miss.
Footnotes / imagined complaints
1. A microcosm of how new things start?
I suppose I eased my way into being a soccer fan in a fashion similar to how young players start their playing careers. At first, they make substitute appearances, coming in for a few minutes here, a half-hour there. As they develop their understanding of the game and build familiarity with their team, they begin playing entire games. I was, in a sense, no different- this first cameo appearance started a slow progression of viewing that eventually became a full decade of consistent Champions League final viewing.
Missing this game, in hindsight, was tough timing for me. Liverpool's comeback win after trailing 3-0 at halftime is considered one of the sport's most memorable games. A year after this game, I become a full-fledged Liverpool fan, the timing akin to that of someone hitting the lottery on the first drawing after the record setting jackpot- it worked out just fine...but still.
2. Oldham FC
Using social media to track yellow card totals and describe embarrassing missed goals for posterity caught the attention of True Football Fans abroad. Our group was contacted by supporters of Oldham Athletic AFC, a third-tier club located just outside of Manchester, England, UK, (back then) Europe.
These folks thought it would be a fine idea for us to serve as an unofficial fan club for their side. To help us better understand our mission, they related the history of the club, compared our misfiring wannabe goal-scorers to their prolific forwards, and posted pictures of glamour models wearing Oldham kits (uniforms) to our page.
The interaction with these earnest supporters was a lot of fun and I made an honest effort to follow the team's results in the following years.
3. Liverpool 2006-2007
The round of sixteen win at Barcelona and the semi-final shootout win at home over Chelsea remain among my favorite Liverpool memories. Both results were surprising at the time. The key was manager Rafa Benitez, a tactical mastermind who consistently crafted teams that punched above its weight in European competition. The question entering the final was- how would Benitez stop Kaka, Milan's all-world attacking midfielder?
I talked about the possibilities for the entire month of May with anyone who would listen (which was no one). When the game kicked off, the plan to use Mascherano (the great defensive midfielder and perhaps my first true favorite player) to track Kaka all over the field became immediately apparent.
4. Or maybe I conveniently 'forgot' this game happened...
It is possible that watching 'elite' English clubs show off their agricultural tactics left me with concussion-like symptoms for days after the final whistle, causing me to forget any resolutions made during the 2008 final like 'give cricket a try in 2009'.
5. Japan tangent
The 2009 final was my first exposure to the tiki-taka style. Though Spain famously played in a similar fashion during their triumph in 2008, I missed most of their continental triumph the previous summer thanks to my trip to Japan.
The trip was my first to Japan since I moved to the USA in 1994. At that time, each country was just initiating major, near-parallel efforts to create interest in the sport. Japan's first season of its current top professional league, the J-League, kicked off in 1993, while America's MLS began play just a year later. The leagues picked up significant momentum on the back of successful World Cup hosting duties (America in 1994, Japan in 2002). Ideally, these efforts would aid the development of players that could compete internationally against the top talent from Europe and South America. Over time, the logic went that producing top players would equip the national teams to compete for World Cups.
Almost a decade and a half after my move, it struck me how much further along the sport seemed in Japan than back in the USA. The American approach to cultivating talent was, in one sense, too American to compete with the rest of the world. Budding talents often played in high school and college systems that were better suited to developing basketball or helmet football players- sports where the critical development years came late in adolescence. MLS was structured like other American professional leagues- with an imbalanced regular season schedule, a post-season playoff tournament, and a draft system to distribute new players- and this rewarded teams who were poor at identifying and developing talent with the best young players instead of putting them out of business (as was the case in Europe).
When the American team failed at international level, fans at home fantasized about hypothetical teams featuring top athletes from other sports and crowned these squads champions-elect, often failing to note that American teams were already among the fittest teams at World Cup tournaments. The US team needed better players, not better athletes.
On the other hand, Japan's development setup closely imitated the methods of established powerhouses. Young players trained with clubs before reaching puberty and there was no suggestion that academic institutions were responsible for cultivating the potential of the next generation of star players. The J-League was structured like their European counterparts and aligned the incentives of teams with those of both the players and the national team- to become the best footballing nation on the planet.
When Japanese teams failed at international level, efforts were redoubled on developing skills, importing the best coaches, and identifying best practices from successful nations around the globe.
6. Is this why I don't remember a ton of hockey highlights?
When I think of the great highlights from other sports, the buzzer-beaters or last minute scoring that comes to mind almost always involves a helmet football, basketball, or baseball team going from a trailing position to a winning one.
