The “storied” clubs in European
football history spring to mind with the merest effort. There are
only a few clubs whose dominance has spanned the decades of memory: a
few clubs each from England, Spain, the Netherlands, Italy and
Germany.
So when two of these clubs with rich
histories face each other, it's only natural that these encounters
become keenly anticipated. Column inches and bandwidth are consumed
voraciously. This week, an unexceptional matchup in a mediocre
competition earned more press than warranted only because the
protagonists had a history; in this case, Chelsea and Leeds meeting
in a Cup tie retrieved foggy but extremely pleasant memories of the
early 1970s, Don Revie and The Damned United.
The juxtaposition of nor'n White and southern Blue achieved more
notoriety than either team – or
the game itself – deserved because of the rose-coloured
cellophane taped to the lenses of commentators' binoculars.
Today's Champions League draw has
gifted us with another opportunity for nostalgia and romance: in the
next round of the Champions League, Real Madrid and Manchester United
will compete for a place in the Champions League quarter finals. The
tie has all a writer could hope for: reputation, individual and
collective
histories and opportunities for speculation on managerial
unemployment.
However, despite their comparative
starry reputations, most objective discussion surrounding this pair
of old romantics suggest that they have underperformed during
2012-13. United features a pyramid resting unsteadily on backfield
foundations constructed apparently from papier-mâché,
while Real Madrid appear finally to have submitted to the second law
of Thermodynamics and fallen
victim to all-consuming entropy developing from within.
Despite both clubs being far inferior
iterations than those to which their supporters may be accustomed,
enough quality remains – usually forward of the centre – for them
to maintain their birthright usual position at the
pointy end of their respective table. However, perhaps more in
commentary as to the lack of parity across the footballing class
divides, neither squad passes the “eye test”; United lack the
resoluteness of Nemanja Vidic's pomp, while Los Merengues lack
their devastating fluency of 2011-12.
But in truth, the sheer volume of
verbiage is almost entirely justified (well, unless you happen to
read Mike Calvin's columns on Life's
a Pitch). These two teams are replete with history and what is
history but a collection of stories? Aside from being written by the
winners, history is malleable, almost completely subjective and born
of advent. It's also much more powerful when repeated orally;
stories and deeds are magnified, sometimes losing precision but
gaining narrative. That we have limited access to (and, thankfully,
analysis of) matches past is why rivalries like that of Chelsea-Leeds
maintains much of its currency after
forty-one-plus years. Stories are what make football – and
sport, in general – powerful, not the statistical impact of Robin
van Persie on his new club.
This makes rose-coloured glasses a
thoroughly acceptable, if not necessarily accurate, method of
evaluating the past and predicting the future. It's almost certainly
a far more fun and optimistic way of watching our football.
