Size is not everything!

After a stressful footballing weekend I think we have all calmed down here in Barcelona. After what felt like an age the the derby match came, and went! What a "interesting" match, things got a little heated and the ref din not seem to have the best hand on the game. In the end Rovers finished the match with ten men and 3-1 down. Not the best of Saturdays.

Any way onwards and upwards or whatever way it maybe after the announcement this week about yet another "shake-up" of Scottish football.

I hope you enjoy this dish of Paella and Bovril and it reminds you that size does not matter!

Paella and Bovril

Sunbathing season, for the locals, is well and truly over, with temperatures only reaching 20 or so during the day and 15 at night, the flip-flops have been swapped for fur lined snow boots and the bikini boxed away.  The bars on the streets and plazas that were bustling till late during the summer are rolling out the patio heaters in attempt to coax the punter to sit outside just for one.  It surprises me, how every year it surprises the locals that it gets cold after the summer, not Baltic, Scottish freezing, but a damn sight chillier. But after a recent night of silence I have come to the conclusion, Barcelona does not like a surprise!

Being the “best in the world”, “the greatest ”, “and a different class”, you are going to get a little bit big headed.  Of course the manager will come out and say that his players and staff have the up most respect for their opponents, who will be a hard side to beat.  The fans and un-biased journalist on the other hand, can be a little more open with their feelings; we should run all over these minnows! Even with a close call a fortnight before nearly everyone who had anything to do with FC Barcelona thought that their trip to Glasgow would be an easy wee jaunt north and they would return to Catalunya with a basket full of goals.  To be fair, I think most of those in Scottish football thought that we in for treat from the Champions league visitors! With the national team losing its manager a few days before the match it appeared that the Scottish press was split between covering all that goes with that massive story and getting excited about having Barca in town, but excited they got!

Now call me old fashioned but I like to listen to my football commentary via the radio, well not that old fashioned I am using an iPad to do it, but I will watch the game with the volume down and listen to the radio. Due to “rights restrictions” I could not get the Scottish commentary to the match so I tuned into Catalunya radio. Of course the first thing I heard was how cold and wet Scotland was, but they were saying it with a tone of utter glee, they just loved being in Scotland regardless of the weather.  The atmosphere was exploding out of the radio, the singing was drowning out the commentators and they were lapping it up!

Messi scored his late, late goal, and what would normally result in a cheer that you can hear all over the city, was a giant gasp of panic, surely they wouldn’t lose this, they were FC Barcelona.  Instead if the usual fireworks and honking horns that have become standard with a win, there was nada, it was deadly silent.  Shocked and stunned was an under statement.  The local tv pundits had “soor” faces and could not believe that they had been beaten by “the wee team”!  

The following day it was weird to turn on the TV to be greeted by a sofa full of very grumpy Catalans discussing the financial state of Scottish football. Scotland was not being viewed as a great footballing nation. How could a team who only had 16% of possession beat the “greatest team in the world” .  It might not have been the greatest performance from a Scottish team but it wasn’t a bad result.

Some Barca fans seemed disgusted that their great Barca had lost to Celtic, but then it was “Unthinkable, surely, for the skipper to miss”