Showing posts with label Lionel Messi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lionel Messi. Show all posts

08 April 2010

*sigh*


Here's a goal you may have seen once or twice before. The second replay here is my favourite way to watch it, because you get to properly see the two best parts. First: the way that, after Messi beats the first set of challenges and sprints into the space behind, the defenders converge on where they wish he was, a panicked swarm which contrasts with the second, better, delight: once Messi is through on the keeper, he not only slows down but seems to switch into another mode altogether. He's just legged it for fifty yards, dodged two lunging tackles and is about to face the ultimate moment of this already extraordinary passage, and he looks — just for a second or two — as if he's all alone, nowheres in particular, doing nothing special. A football game is a swirling sequence of pockets of space expanding and contracting; the energy spent in trying to shut these spaces down makes their serial exploitation a pressing concern, a ferociously difficult task. And the penalty area is, of course, the most fiercely defended patch on the field. The not-incorrect but humdrum explanation for this moment (hah! humdrum!) might be that he was facilitating his next move — fucking with the keeper's head, essentially. And I'm sure that there is some stuff about how elite athletes experience time differently to merely excellent ones that would fit just nicely here. But when I recall this goal, this is the moment I think of: when Messi created a bubble apart from what surrounded him before returning to our world.

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06 April 2010

Arselona (II): Gravity

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22 December 2009

Scored by the finest Belgian chocolatiers

FIFA have this year introduced an award named after Ferenc Puskás (or, as they've renamed him, FIFA Puskás). It's a kind of global goal-of-the-year competition. Watching some of those YouTube videos crammed full of great goals can feel a bit like eating bad, cheap chocolate just because because you wanted to have some damn chocolate — any chocolate — and subsequently feeling ashamed at your hideous lapse in taste. To watch this compilation of the Puskás-shortlisted goals, though, is to indulge in something that has at least 80% metaphorical cocoa solids in it. Voici après le... uh ... jumpe.



(Video via Back Page Football.)

Nine beautiful goals, plus that Grafite one. Marvellous.

The winner was Cristiano Ronaldo, the confused pubescent girl vote always being strong in popular plebiscites not sensible enough to impose an age limit and a requirement to travel to a polling station. But seriously, folks, before I quite literally virtually crack myself up, some notes:

* For goals scored in the Champions League knockout stages, the Adebayor and Essien strikes have gone dreadfully underappreciated. Of course, Villarreal-Arsenal had a combined global TV audience of me and my dad, and Essien's was followed by some ... stuff. But still. You are silly sometimes, world.

* Speaking of which, put Grafite's goal next to Nilmar's and tell me you still feel the same way you did about the former as you did when it happened.

* Not to be too drippy about it, but don't the Atar, Landín and Torres goals make your heart soar, to be reminded of the so-mad-it's-saner-than-sane improvisatory genius that really can elevate it above simply being twenty-two men kicking a bag of blah blah blah, the strikes right to the heart of what keeps bringing us back to this maddening pursuit? *sigh*

My major problem with the Puskás Award, scrumptious waste of time though it may be, is that it wasn't judged by me. I have therefore instituted the Fredorraci Prize to satisfy my Father Jack-like desire to have something to do with an "Award! Award!". The winner is not necessarily the best goal I saw all year, but it's the most beautiful — so beautiful that the photograph illustrates it better than the video ever could. You know the words, folks, sing along...

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01 June 2009

The Drunken Pixie Tapes: Lionel Messi's Champions League goals

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27 May 2009

If Barcelona-Manchester United was a semi-appropriate line from a Shins song, which line would it be?



And they could float above the grass in circles if they tried
(A latent power I know they hide)




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08 April 2009

Very brief notes on (the first 68 minutes and little bits thereafter of)† Barcelona vs. Bayern Munich


  • There comes a time in Pro Evolution Soccer when you build up your Master League team to such a standard that matches become too easy: when you're playing on autopilot yet still having 80% possession, barely noticing that you have just scored half a dozen goals; when you realise it's probably time to play at a higher difficulty level. (Unless you're like me and you're already at the highest level. *Sigh*) That's kind of what this game felt like. Barcelona were that good and Bayern were that bad. One almost entered into a meditative state watching this, before jolting oneself back into full consciousness with the realisation that no matter how the rest of this season pans out for Barcelona, this is a team to savour while you have the chance.

  • Bayern were that bad, though.

  • Pep Guardiola has been very impressive thus far, and he became even more so to this observer when he was sent from the line for protesting the yellow card shown to Lionel Messi for diving. But then, I come from a family of touchline-shouter-fromers, so that kind of thing impresses me on a profound level. I'm not proud of it, but hey. And it was no yellow card. If Messi ends up missing the final...

  • Speaking of Messi, the brain spasm suffered by a defender whenever Messi has possession near him is one of life's great pleasures.

  • But Bayern's defenders suffered brain spasms whenever Henry got the ball, either, or when Iniesta had it on the left after Henry went off. Now, those players are excellent, but remember...

  • Bayern really were that bad.

Unreliable streams, yadda yadda.

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