Madrid Win, Madrid Lose

By AM Sunday, May 25, 2014

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Although it might not seem so to either ourselves or those we discuss our concerns with, not every minute of our waking day is consumed by the demands of the Boston College oral history saga. Huge emotional drain that it is, there is only so much of it to drown in before being forced to the surface to draw breath from something else. Last evening we put Wallander on hold in exchange for the Champions League final.

My wife had no interest in it but our son is into soccer in a big way and had long been anticipating this clash of the Madrid titans. Spain’s supremacy at both international and club level hardly lent itself to surprise that the final offered a Spanish only menu. Whatever the outcome Madrid would win and Madrid would lose. The opposite was true as well. My son plumped for Real Madrid whereas I opted for their neighbours Atlético Madrid. I used to have an interest in the fortunes of Real Madrid but only when the inimitable German midfielder Bernd Schuster was coach. It was to be my son’s night not mine.

Atlético seemed to have it in the bag until Sergio Ramos stepped up to place a brilliantly executed header beyond the reach of the Atlético keeper. Suddenly a lacklustre Real side switched gear and the trophy was wrenched from the grip of Athletico hands in the closing minutes of normal time. The joyous look of relief on the face of Iker Casillas said it all as he kissed Ramos. It was his goalkeeping howler in the first half that had gifted Atlético with a lead they preserved almost until the final whistle.

After that it was plain sailing for Real as their power, depth and stamina combined to overcome an Atlético side whose playing style and game strategy was reminiscent of Holland’s performance in the World Cup final four years ago: thuggish and cynical, eight bookings and one player sent off (the coach as well). So for the football purist it was better that the players and not the pugilists came through in the end. Commiserate as we might with their doggedness, the words of Bill Shankly always find their way to the surface: if you come first you are first, come second and you are nothing.

Defensive blunders have on occasion at crucial points proved the tipping point that changed the outcome of games and altered the course of a season. Yesterday Derby vouched for that in the final minute of the Wembley play-off decider against QPR. Earlier this month Liverpool who could have won the English Premiership were hobbled by a defensive formation that often seemed to be part of the opposing side’s attack. Last night proved no exception to the law of defensive frailty. Given the lethal ability of Sergio Ramos to deliver headers with pin point accuracy how Atlético did virtually nothing to restrict his passage into the box for a dead ball situation, is something they will rue for many a year. With all the intervention of the watching spectators they observed him arch his back, before springing to strike his prey, much as he had done against Bayern whom he helped destroy in the semi finals.

It is now the tenth time that Real have been crowned champions of Europe. A worthy achievement for a club that has a glittering history in European competition stretching back over the decades. No other team, including the great Barcelona has matched them.

Bragging rights belonged to my son. And he duly exercised them. My wife sighed when the game stretched into extra time: Wallander delayed even further. Then, when it was over, I was much too tired to view anything else. Now there is the World Cup to come. Ours will be a Scandinavian free summer. No Sweden in the World Cup, no viewing of Swedish crime drama. Just endless soccer due to the demands of an eight year old who subscribes to the Bill Shankly philosophy that football is not a matter of life and death, it is much more important than that.

For the short time that was in it, Madrid took precedence over Boston.