Jose Mourinho obeys laws of physics, leaves Real Madrid

The second law of thermodynamics states that the entropy of an isolated system never decreases, because they spontaneously evolve towards thermodynamic equilibrium — that is, maximum entropy.

Entropy – defined as the tendency of a system to break into terminal disorder – is such a potent force that it will (probably) be the cause of the ultimate end of the universe, as heat is unable to escape the system and gradually rises to such a point that everything falls apart – literally.

In related news, José Mourinho is again a free man.  He leaves Real Madrid after three years’ not only obeying the second law of thermodynamics but actively seeking to hasten its work.  In that time he was first feted as savior; now he has been gratefully cast to scattering winds.

It is Mourinho’s modus operandi to close ranks and build a combative team infused utterly with an “us against the world” mentality that maintains a player’s confidence in himself, his manager and his teammates.  In such a way, he inspired Porto and Inter Milan to Champions League triumphs and redressed imbalances wrought in England and Spain by iconic teams like the Invincibles and Guardiola’s Barcelona.  To look at a squad coached by José Mourinho – in his first two years at a club, anyway – is to see a completely unified front and spectacular results.

However, isolation so desired creates the closed system in which the reaction byproducts remain, increasing interior temperature until relationships break down and instability ensues.  Often his ability to rock a boat is so profound that it affects not only him and his club but the managers succeeding him.

Not only did Mourinho fashion this closed system, but also the reactions ramping up the entropy within.  He has engaged in running battles with the Spanish media and cast doubt upon his own future at every opportunity; his reputation for wanderlust has been affirmed by short, but successful, spells at four clubs in a decade (and another coming).  The intensity with which he achieves such great results also serves as a constant abrasive as his cocksure manner shuffles relationships inexorably from “we” to “me”.

Until José Mourinho learns to temper his double-edged intensity, his tenures will always be short – indeed, it was this tendency that forestalled interest in him from Manchester United, a position he so obviously covets.  However, because the results he generates are so compelling, there will be no shortage of suitors hoping to take advantage of his remarkable talent.  

Man United v Real Madrid steeped in history

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.