It’s okay to hate Barcelona.
Go ahead. Try it. Just for a second.
See?
You didn’t burst into flames. Or grow hooves and a tail.
Yes, I know Barca plays ‘the beautiful game,’ ‘the way futbol is meant to be played,’ ‘the epitome of possession football.’
Fuck, I know that UNICEF is their shirt sponsor (though not after this season, so I can feel a little better about it now).
In spite of all that, I still can’t stand them.
And to hate Barca is not to love La Real, mind you.
Mourinho’s actually more amusing than irritating, and it’s always entertaining watching Real in their usual undignified pant (tm Michael Lewis) to overpay stars du jour in a desperate attempt to get back to the top of the league.
Not realizing, of course, that who Barca plays isn’t nearly as important as how they play.
That they’ve found (and grow) the perfect players for their style of football.
I hate Barca because of Henry.
And Hleb, whom they didn’t need but talked into signing anyway, just ’cause they’re Barca.
And because of Fabregas, whom they’re after for the exact same reasons.
(Hint: he’s not going to start. Anyone in their right mind knows that.)
And because of Henrik Larsson five years ago in the Champions League final.
And because of Bendtner’s final royal fuck-up in an Arsenal uniform (God willing)last season.
And because everyone there seems to think that the Arse should let Cesc go because Barca, like, totally wants him and keeping him is just so (huff, huff) unfair.
They’re Lea Thompson.
The rest of football is Mary Stuart Masterson.
Fuck you, Xavi and Pique and Iniesta. Life is suffering.
Posted on August 3, 2011
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