Club, venue and star align to recreate a special, historic, and reassuringly familiar night

Stylistically speaking, it wasn’t just the grey suits that were deemed a poor fit upon FC Barcelona’s arrival to London.

Pressure has been mounting on coach Ernesto Valverde over the direction the second year of his project is heading, caught between his own personal style and the complex aesthetic nuances he’s inherited and the many overt demands that he follow tradition. He’s well aware that even the domestic double of his first year doesn’t serve a sturdy enough foundation for the increased expectations after a summer of signings that’s promising even greater things to come. Those damn promises. Rather than enter the consolidation phase of the project, Valverde’s Barça has looked to start afresh. Until now, Valverde’s second season has looked nothing like the first. Until Wembley.

In other words, there was more than just a whisper or murmur at the growing discontent over the past few weeks. A grey sombre cloud seemed to be forming over him and the club, surprising some by appearing so early in the season, as if Barcelona were awaiting judgment or clarity amidst so many new faces.

The early defining features of year two have clearly centered around Ousmane Dembélé, and the ensuing tradeoff that his quality and the tactical puzzle he’s created are presenting. His return has meant a pronounced push towards a 4–3–3, perhaps more than Valverde himself is comfortable with. The youngster’s explosion has also come at a cost. Knock-on tactical effects on Philippe Coutinho and Jordi Alba, and the stability of the team structure out of possession upon loss of the ball have meant the hard-earned defensive solidity and studied defensive transitions from last season have all but disappeared, as goals continue to be conceded at an alarming pace.

At this point, it has seemed as if it is either Dembélé or the system, but not both, and in need of calm, control and solidity, there’s little wonder that in the Champions League Valverde chose the latter. That dilemma was left for another time, unresolved, no need to actually be addressed on this particular day. In the same way Wembley conjured up kind images of the past for the club and for Messi, the overall performance was also a flashback to the stability of year one for the man at the helm.

As noted in The Guardian, Barça were as brilliant as they were vulnerable. It was a combination of the disorder and prolonged suffering of their first Champions League title at the stadium with the utter dominance of the second.

Missing four key pillars of his starting XI- Dele Alli, Christian Eriksen, Mousa Dembélé and Jan Vertonghen- Mauricio Pochettino was too preoccupied in creating a competitive team to recognize the not so subtle erosion of positional play going on at Barça and to truly internalize and possess the awareness of the weaknesses that have arisen as Valverde tries to fit in all the new pieces. Shortcomings La Liga teams are already pouncing on due to closer proximity and more frequent visits.

Urged by Toto Berizzo’s pressing approach of Athletic Club on the weekend, and by a shared admiration of Marcelo Bielsa, Poch also decided on a high-pressing strategy (not man-oriented but at a similar part of the pitch) that took a risk he probably knew, deep down, most likely wouldn’t materialize into advantages for his team.

Incredulously, with each passing minute, Messi came across as an increasingly foreign concept. The ensuing praise at his masterclass felt more like rediscovery than reaffirmation of his greatness. In fact, it’s actually quite remarkable given how readily available his football is, only a fingertip away. This strange inexplicable hinted unfamiliarity seemed true as much for the English fans as for the manager, since Pochettino had no specific plan to address the sweeping Messi passes to Alba, the ‘alley-oops’ that have characterized Barça’s attacks for years now and are surely no secret anymore. It’s almost like Pochettino didn’t know what his countryman was capable of, or if he was, it was only in broad strokes rather than the vivid detail that those who watch him every week can attest to.

For instance, there it was, the cutback goal from Alba to Messi, like always. Luis Suarez knows by now not to touch it, and now Coutinho too knows who that ball is intended for. Truth is, the consecutive dummies were more artistic abundance than what was really necessary to fool an unprepared Tottenham. Simply, they were not ready for Barça as a club specifically, nor for the Champions League as a competition more generally. Their project continues in steady fashion, but perhaps its very steadfast nature could prove its ultimate downfall. If anything, modern football, especially beyond the pitch, rewards risks if clubs are to reap its greatest treasures, and that is a stark contrast to Spurs’ pragmatic incremental gains painfully secured year in year out.

The match, then, was not defined by phases of play, but by whims, especially of one man in particular. Messi, scorer of a brace, also hit the post twice, in quick succession, seconds apart. One of them was more pass than shot, trickling slowly with a knowing arrogance, suspicious that he was allowed to breeze along the edge of the box as if Tottenham somehow weren’t in the know of his abilities. Immediately, he did it again, less so because the match needed it but solely because he could. It is as if the artist weren’t satisfied with the first brushstroke and hoped to replicate, to improve upon, erase, or replace his first creation. Compared to other memorable Messi performances, it felt a touch less magical but more complete. The totality of the football was fitting of the maturity of the Argentine’s final years.

On another day, it’d be Arthur stealing the headlines, but this was an occasion more about the weight of the historic than the promise of the future. If Ivan Rakitic after an underrated 2017/18 of continued reinvention under Valverde is the perfect complement to Sergio Busquets out of possession, then Arthur is already precisely that in possession.

The Brazilian twists and turns, pirouetting like Xavi, who he is often compared to, although there was also the delicate tip-toeing and balance to keep possession under pressure on several occasions that reminded one of Iniesta. His passes and press-resistance looked as precise as the technique of Ivan Rakitic’s stunning volley. Arthur provided the whole team a structure Barcelona don’t normally have (or don’t have anymore).

With those comparisons in mind, it is also worth keeping an eye on the minutes he spent on the right of midfield at the end of the first half. Arthur made both Busquets and Messi play better and more freely. Weight lifted, that too brought up images of the past.

Another Argentine, Érik Lamela, symbolized the Spurs resistance. Harry Kane may be the one wearing the number 10, not him, and he may lack the quality of the final ball of Eriksen, but when playing that role, he made up for it in attitude. It allowed for a Harry Winks second half surge. The young English midfielder realized that the Barça ball circulation is notably slower than it once was and that this is a different team. Urged on by the home support, he figured out he can hurt them with the ball, as the Blaugrana retreated into a Valverde-esque two lines of four.

Chaos ensued, if only for a little while. Barça no longer knows how to regain control in those moments and didn’t return home to Catalunya without having survived the scare. If this Barça is to fulfill Messi’s promise and win the Champions League, it’ll be philosophically (not to mention chronologically) much closer to Luis Enrique than to Pep.

It continues to be surprising that when matches spiral out of control, Valverde seeks to protect himself from it, rather than recapture the control that was lost. In such, it is an acceptance that he can’t dictate certain passages of play from the touchline from playing out as he envisions (whereas Pep somehow manages to replicate scenarios he thinks up with artistry and bravado, across countries). The solemn realizations of his own limitations don’t sit well with the many who demand the bravery and courage that once defined the Catalan’s way of understanding the game.

In all, however, the aftermath is not that messy as a whole. The images it evokes are reminiscent of FC Barcelona’s former Champions League conquests in the heart of London and the heart of English football. The response has been a very British and understated appreciation of the footballing brilliance that was on display, going beyond mere sportsmanship. Then as now, the feeling is of awe, perhaps one rooted in miscomprehension of a profoundly different football (or footballer) than that accustomed to, invented, or frequently witnessed on the isles.

For a Barcelona that has changed so much, this comes as a nice momentary instant of relief, a respite from current La Liga troubles, a reminder that despite obsessive day to day observation and grumbling from culés from within, the club is still admired and respected from afar, image intact.

The Wembley green wasn’t as pristine as on other days, KOed days before this particular fight. The beauty came more in flashes than in the constant bouts of domination of yesteryear.

Regardless, this ground is always cause for inspiration. And there are still threads and moments that connect club, person, and place. In space and in time. They are still there to be felt, to be remembered. Of course they are. This time around the nostalgia is not to be regretted but rather shared and spread around.

For right in front of us was yet another moment in which Messi set the pace and stole the show, another year in which Messi — and Barça — waltzed to a wonderful win at Wembley.