We should swap managers with Barca

This is an interesting comment from Barcelona presidential candidate Sandro Rosell:

"We must be careful, because from an economic standpoint we are not good. We have a stratospheric level of debt. £420million over what needs to be paid for Zlatan Ibrahimovic and Dmytro Chygrynskiy. We must improve the squad each year, but we must also make sure that we are managing the economic resources that the club needs to survive.”

Most presidential candidates run on the platform of how many superstars they can bring in. Joan Laporta himself came in on the back of a bogus "Beckham-to-Barcelona" ticket, and when that fell through, had to bring in Ronaldinho to avoid getting lynched. For Sandro Rosell to run on a platform of relative financial prudence is kind of refreshing.

There's an interesting article on Rosell on wikipedia. Rosell was Laporta's running mate, and was instrumental to the Ronaldinho to Barcelona deal. He resigned from the board in 2005, claiming Laporta had failed to carry out their original plan for the club. Since then, he's been critical about the way Barcelona's been run, calling it "absolute anarchy".

It'll be interesting to see what would happen if Rosell got elected. Some of the more mediocre senior squad players would probably leave. More youth players would be promoted. The redevelopment of the Nou Camp would probably be put on the back-burner (how can you make a 100,000 seat stadium more profitable?). And they probably won't be willing to shell out £50m for Fabregas to act as Xavi's backup.

I'm not sure Guardiola would be impressed. Barcelona have the best team in the world, but there are a few areas that need to be reinforced. David Villa's been signed to replace Henry. They'll probably need a new left-back / centre-back as well. Guardiola is great with getting the best out of players, and he's great at promoting players through the club, but he also likes his marquee signings. Alves and Pique a couple of seasons back, Ibrahimovic and Chygrynskiy last season, and Villa and Fabregas now?

Would he be willing to stay at Barcelona and have a restrained transfer budget?

There's only one manager in the world who could keep an elite club competitive, and yet is willing to keep it financially solvent. And that one manager is Arsene Wenger. So if Rosell gets elected, what are the chances that Guardiola walk and Wenger is appointed manager? And if that's the case, what's the chances that we'll hire Guardiola?

It makes a perverse kind of sense. Barcelona needs a manager who can reduce their debt. Arsenal need a manager who can turn a talented group of individuals into a talented team. Wenger needs a club that will push him to win trophies. Guardiola needs a club which, um... plays like a crappy version of Barcelona's football. Guardiola has won everything under the sun, and he needs a new challenge. Wenger likes playing young players, and La Masia is the best youth academy in the world.

So would anyone else swap Wenger and Fabregas for Guardiola and money?

So on the 337th last day of my 20s, I cracked the shits at work. I'm sick of equipment that doesn't work, and of bosses who are too absent to fix it. It pisses me off in a big way. Can't wait to give notice next week.

Listened to Plastic Beach by Gorillaz today. It's not bad, but it's a bit disappointing when compared to Demon Days and Gorillaz. It's a series of aural doodles that sound nice as commuting music, but nothing stands out like Feel Good Inc, Clint Eastwood or 19-2000.

Fabregas to Barcelona would complete the set

""Barcelona boos Pep Guardiola is stalling on signing a new contract with the club - until they can guarantee the £50m signing of Cesc Fabregas."

- the Daily Star

It wouldn't surprise me if Guardiola walked into the boardroom and demanded a full-blooded assault on Fabregas. Guardiola has a liking for Barcelona youth players. He promoted Sergio Busquets last year, Pedro this year, and Bojan Krkic's been around for a couple of years. He paid big money to lure Gerard Pique back from Man Utd. There's no reason to believe he won't do the same to try and get Cesc Fabregas back as well. I'm just surprised that he didn't try to resign Fran Merida when he was available.

It's like Guardiola is trying to turn Barcelona into an old boy's club for La Masia graduates. Incidentally, I tried to do that on Football Manager once. I picked up Pique for £25 million and Merida for £3 million. I cheated by making Busquets awesome, and promoted him to the first team. I improved Oleguer's stats until he was a viable right-back. I can't remember what I did at left-back and left-forward, but whatever the case, it was an excellent team and won everything. The only problem was that I couldn't get Arsenal to sell Fabregas. I bid £55 million, tapped him up like crazy, and Arsenal still wouldn't budge. It was incredibly frustrating to be so close to completing the set.

In real life, Guardiola's almost there - Valdes, Pique, Puyol, Busquets, Xavi, Iniesta, Messi, Pedro, Krkic.... apart from a lack of fullbacks, that's a team with serious ability. It would probably win the Premier League. But it's still not complete; Barcelona are a Fabregas away from having a full house. I hope Guardiola has the same (bad) luck in getting him as I did on FM08.

I think this large cohort of Barcelona ex-youth players one of Guardiola's greatest strengths. He knows these players intimately, since he helped develop most of them. They're all drilled to play the same sort of football. And they've grown up playing for him, so they'd be incredibly loyal. You can't underestimate that sort of rapport.

As luck would have it, we've got our own potential Guardiola in Steve Bould. Bould has done great things at the Academy, especially with last year's double-winning youngsters. I'm not sure he's got the experience or the tactical nous for the role, but it'll be a really interesting choice in four or five years' time. Bould would be as committed to the aesthetic sides of things as Wenger, and would be just as interested in promoting (his) youth players. He'd have a clutch of youngsters who've been with him for a long, long time, alongside relative veterans like Ramsey, Song, Bendtner and Walcott.

If he does get the gig, I just hope Steve Bould doesn't get carried away and try and resign players like Ashley Cole or David Bentley. I don't want the set that badly.

Cesc to Barca... again

"Cesc is wanted by me, by the coach Pep Guardiola and by the sport director Txiki Begiristain. We are concentrating all of our efforts on it, but at the same time we have a lot of respect for Arsenal. We have positive relations with Arsenal so it will not be an easy topic to talk to them about."

- Jose Laporta, respectfully trying to tap up Cesc Fabregas

With friends like these, who needs enemies, hey?

I'm glad Barcelona have "positive relations" with Arsenal, because I'd hate to see what would happen if our relationship turned frosty. I'm imagining a midnight raid and a bottle of chloroform would be involved, followed shortly by a grainy video of Cesc with a gun to his head, imploring Arsenal not to try to rescue him because he's "very happy to be with his new friends".

The whole Cesc-Barcelona saga is getting a bit drawn-out. It's a bit like the closing stages of the Cold War - you know nuclear Armageddon could occur at the push of a button, but the threat's been around for so long that it's lost its power. Similarly, we know Cesc is going to leave us one day, but we've read these tap-ups so many times that it's a bit like "Duck And Cover".

Still, the end just might be in sight. Just as the Cold War ended in a whimper, so too might the Cesc War. This, from Arsene Wenger:

"I refused (Real Madrid) because I have built a young team and I have the feeling that I have not finished my job. I am not denying it will be a decisive season. If we are not in the title race, we will have to build everything again."

2009-2010 will be a decisive season. Either we shape up as contenders, or we'll rebuild. And I can't see Cesc sticking around for another lengthy rebuild. The boy wants trophies, and he wants them now. And in 2010-2011, he might be striving to win them in La Liga and not the Premier League.

It's an interesting quote from Wenger. After years of transition and false starts, after all the times he's defended his players for their lack of fight, lack of experience and even lack of talent, it's a refreshing admission. The youth project can end, and it might end soon. I hope Wenger prints this quote out and sticks it on the dressing room wall. It might give the boys something to play for - their careers.

From Barcelona to Madrid

From St Kilda to Kings Cross is thirteen hours on a bus

I pressed my face against the glass 

And watched the white lines rushing past

And all around me felt like all inside me

And my body left me and my soul went running

- From St Kilda to Kings Cross, Paul Kelly

I always seem to get into Madrid early in the morning. 

Took the overnight bus from Barcelona to Madrid last night. As always, it's a disconcerting experience. Once the luggage is stowed away and you've settled in your seat, the driver turns the lights off and everyone falls asleep. There's something about the humming of a bus that's very conducive to sleep. The bus stops every two or three hours to refuel and give the driver a break. When he turns the light on, everyone wakes up and shuffles out into the way-station. 

It's a strange experience. You're in the middle of nowhere, and the only light is coming from the way-station. There's a road that stretches off into nowhere, and nothing else. Every way-station seems to be built from the same design, and if it's a particularly long trip, you get this suspicion that the bus has just driven around in circles for two hours and come back to the same spot. 

When you get off the bus, you're a bit disorientated. It's not lack of sleep, because you've had enough. It's not a DVT-induced mini-stroke, because you've had plenty of opportunity to stretch in the pit stops. It's more a case of temporal dissonance, I suppose. You know you've been driven 700kms overnight, but it really doesn't feel that way. In your head, a part of you still thinks you're in Barcelona. 

I miss Barcelona. There's so much there that I want to see again. If I could redo this trip, I would've spent two weeks in Barcelona and two weeks in Granada, and what would it matter if I'd missed out on Florence or Venice or Prague? There's nothing there but photos and postcards. 

But still, it doesn't matter. At least I got back to Madrid in time to see Real Madrid play Osasuna. Beautiful stadium, beautiful team, dodgy referees. Probably the only stadium I've seen that has elevators and escalators for the fans. Definitely the only stadium I've seen that's installed heaters on the roof to keep the fans warm. 

3-1 to Madrid. 

Flashpacking

Flashpacking - Backpacking, but not on a budget, using first-class travel and accommodation. A more "flash" version of backpacking. 

- the definition from Urban Dictionary

By most definitions, I'm a flashpacker more than a backpacker. I stay in hostels with clean sheets. I bathe regularly. I eat three meals a day and am acquainted with most of the five food groups. I can afford a slice of the better life that I keep seeing in the shops and cafes that I walk past. But the thing is, I keep wondering why, if I'm a flashpacker, I need to scrimp so much. 

I've spent a bundle over the past two days. 35€ to see a couple of Gaudi's modernist apartment buildings. Popped 40€ to go to Figueres to see the Dali Museum. Spent about 50€ on my two Barca matches. But I don't think I can sustain it. I'm getting slightly worried because I've 120€ left in the bank, with three days before the card tops up again, and a trip to Madrid and a ticket to Real Madrid to pay for still. 

Thing about this trip, I keep thinking about money. 

And I've met real backpackers on this trip. Guys who sleep on park benches and eat nothing but Nutella and jam sandwiches for weeks on end. Guys who get by as sketch artists as they bum their way across Spain. Guys who have been travelling for months and years on end, until they've almost forgotten where they've come from. Now that I think about it, it's been mostly guys.  

They do it on a wing and a prayer. They drift and let circumstances take them to places they never thought they'd go. There's something compelling about that, that goes past the stink of unwashed clothes and cigarette smoke. They're at ease in the world. They can meet Triumph and Disaster and treat the two impostors as the same. 

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. Just bummed that I've got probably 20€ discretionary spending over the weekend, once I take out accommodation, travel and football expenses. Which is pretty shitty for a flashpacker. 

Messi at the Camp Nou

I hear he sang a good song, I heard he had a style

And so I came to see him, and listen for a while

And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my heart

Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words

Killing me softly, with his song

Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly, with his songs. 

- Killing Me Softly, The Fugees

The first time the great man appeared, he was wearing a bright orange vest and chocolate brown leggings. As he trotted out over the sideline, the crowd began applauding. As he started warming up, the crowd started chanting with a feverish longing. The game was suddenly unimportant, and we were all in a state of suspense. 

It was the 60th minute, the score was 1-1, and Leo Messi was preparing to enter the game. 

Until that point, it had been a nothing game in a nothing cup competition. It was the second leg of the Copa Del Rey tie, the first having been 3-1 won by Barcelona a week ago. The tie was pretty much concluded before the match had begun, and both teams approached it in that manner. Barcelona fielded their second-string side and both teams kicked it around in a lazy fashion. 

There's something magical about the Camp Nou on a winter's night. We were sitting on the edge of the highest tier, right by the corner flag. The ground was floodlight, the crowd buzzed beneath us, the players moved with slow precision - it was like being in a really, really chilly dream. 

It was a good thing it's so atmospheric, because the game was crap. 

I have fond memories of the Valencia-Villareal. It was blood-and-guts running and attacking and skilful play for 90 minutes. It was probably the best game I've seen. Barca-Atletico was a couple of teams kicking it around and trying not to get injured. But still, there's something about watching Barcelona play. They have a mystique about them, coming down in an unbroken line from Cryuff to Strichov, to Rivaldo and Figo and Ronaldinho, and now, to Lionel Messi. 

Messi got onto the pitch in the 76th minute. He's the best player in the world, and it showed. Immediately Barcelona perked up. The passing was crisper, the play more purposeful, and the team started playing the way only Barca knows. Messi made a couple of great runs, and it was just amazing to see the guy in action. 

I've just had a glance at the match reviews in the newspaper blogs, and they're all raving about a good game with plenty of attacking moves and two skilful, free-flowing sides. And I'm wondering if I watched the same game? Or maybe, I'd been just so intent on seeing Messi that I overlooked some pretty good football in its own right? 

2-1 to Barcelona. 

On Barcelona

After a while, you tend find a place you feel really connect with. I´m not sure why it is, but when you ask people, they´ve always got one place that´s special and that they rave about. You ask them why, and it´s always about something unique that happened to them and to no one else. One thing´s been pretty constant, though - Barcelona is everybody´s second favourite city.

It´s a pretty special place. I was taking a walk along the marina this afternoon. The sun was out, the sky was blue and the esplanade was lined with plam trees. There were seagulls swooping on halpless snacking tourists and, well... it was just perfect. It reminded me of San Francisco along the Embarcadero, with the palm trees and the trolley trams and the smell of the sea coming from the Bay.

The Gothic Quarter is right off the waterfront, just off the Mirador de Colom. It´s a warren of buildings and shadowy streets. You keep walking and get lost, and keep walking and eventually you wind up at La Rambla. Everything seems to lead to La Rambla. And it´s something you can keep walking down forever.

And then there´s Gaudi. Sometime in teh 19th century, Barcelona got rich. Very rich. It burst through its city walls and expanded into the countryside. They drew up plans for a grid of the new city, one that was full of tree-lined streets and broad avenues, like a Paris with more class. It´s where I´m staying now, in a 100 year-old apartment just off one of the main avenues.

It´s a stroke of good fortune that I´m plonked in the middle of a host of Gaudi´s stuff. It´s the oddest thing to walk along a street filled with stolid 19th century buildings, and then come cross a riot of colour and shape and weirdness. Took a walk through the Parc Guell the other day. Spent some time sitting in front of the Casa Batllo today, and wondering if 16€ was a fair price to see probably the weirdest house I´m ever likely to see. Probably have to do it tommorrow.

Off to see the Barca-Atletico game now.

Sagrada Familia and Big Brother

The Sagrada Familia's been on my to-do list for the past fifteen years now. I remember seeing it in a travel doco when I was a young'un, and the image of those weirdly shaped towers kind of stuck with me. For the past five months, I've been asking questions about it to everyone who´s been to Barcelona.

The reports don't do it justice.

First thing, it is a construction site in the middle of a cramp suburb. It's a bit deflating when you get there because the sightlines are obscured by cranes, fences and workers' shelters. All the knobbly bits of the older, Gothic parts are grimy and stained, and all the newer bits are glaringly clean in comparison.

It's not until you walk around the picture postcard facade to the other side that it starts to come together. Amazing portico of the Passion of Christ, and when you enter, you're hit by the tree-shaped columns that branch out to support this vast, vast roof and...

I really can't be bothered. 

I'm watching Spanish Big Brother right now. I was never a fan of the Australian Big Brother, but the Spanish version ain't bad. Still the same premise - pretty young things chatting vacuously and looking pretty in front of surveillance cameras - but they're all talking Spanish, which gives it a certain something. I suppose it's along the lines of the fascination that comes from ignorance - they could be talking absolute rubbish, but it doesn't matter because all I can see are Spanish people looking pretty and chatting vacuously. It's very compelling. 

Barcelona's nice, but I sure wish I'd come here when my enthusiasm was higher. 

Did he say "no", or "not yet"?

“I have not spoken to any media, so it's frustrating to read quotes that I have supposedly said about my future. I have spent the summer relaxing with my family, friends and girlfriend. I think that some people are just trying to make mischief, but my intentions are clear. I am happy here at Arsenal and the priority is to achieve success and win trophies at Arsenal.”

- Cesc Fabregas, deliberating on whether "no" means "no"

This is the picture I have in my head.

There's this car parked outside London Colney. The windows are fogged up and the chassis' rocking slightly to the movement of licentious love. Inside, sit our two protagonists. Ramon Calderon's all sweaty with carnal inflammation. His greasy paws are groping our sweet young thing. Cesc's of two minds - he'd like to be faithful to Arsene Wenger, but he knows that Ramon can show him a world he's never known. Cesc's equivocating. Cesc's flustered. Should he keep his virtue intact and stay faithful with the Arse, or should he succumb to the wanton charms of his swarthy Spanish suitor?

What's a starlet to do?

In courtrooms all over the world, this scenario's been played out countless times. And it basically comes down to this - does "no" mean "no", or does it mean "not yet"? It's difficult to adjudicate. Firstly, because there's no impartial witness to the event, and secondly, because it's such an emotional thing. If you wanted to legislate, you'd have to say that no means no, but really, it's a case by case thing.

I liken the Cesc-Arsenal-Real Madrid-Barcelona love quadrangle to Wuthering Heights. Cathy's been pretty solid with her beau, but she's quite taken with the reappearance of the dashing, brutish Heathcliff. Cathy's torn between her duty to what's-his-face and the memories of her first great love.

I'm not sure where Real Madrid fits into this, but I'm sure we'd all prefer Cesc returns to the heaving bosom of Barca's ample embrace, rather that enjoy the fetid, squalid charms of Real Madrid's Bernabeu. At least that way, we can wander those lonely, desolate Pennine moors and weep sweet Cescy tears with a certain romantic gusto. After all, we'd know he left us out of love, and not for money.

So don't do it, Cesc. Resist Calderon's charms. Save yourself for Barcelona.