Leading by two goals in the first half put Barcelona in a very difficult position.
Physically, it was tough, but the ntal pressure was even more torturous.
Already at a disadvantage, their attacks weren't working. The more they rushed, the more chaotic they beca.
They even made several mistakes, missing chances to break through Real Madrid's defense due to their own errors.
"Barcelona is playing too anxiously! They need to calm down. This is not the ti for such mistakes," the Catalan comntator said worriedly. "Boys, lift your spirits!"
Ti passed bit by bit.
Barcelona's attacks still made no progress. Their overall offense was disjointed, and even their localized combinations fell apart.
"Pass the ball to !"
ssi dropped back proactively. At Barcelona, ssi often had to retreat, using his excellent dribbling to advance the ball.
But the mont ssi dropped back, Diarra imdiately pressed him constantly.
He prevented ssi from receiving the ball easily, and even when ssi did get it, Diarra's physical challenges and pulling made it hard for him to adjust.
ssi tried to burst past a few tis, but without the physical strength to overpower Diarra, he couldn't get through and had to pass.
Iniesta was in a similar situation.
"Combination! Combination! Pass and move!"
Guardiola was already getting anxious.
What were they playing?
Where was their usual tacit understanding?
Barcelona looked like headless chickens, everyone playing individually, desperately trying to break through but ignoring teamwork.
"Barcelona's players' ntality has changed!"
Faria watched the situation and smiled. "After three matches, we held firm. Barcelona is starting to collapse."
These three grueling matches!
There had to be wins and losses.
If Barcelona could have won just one, it would have boosted their confidence and form greatly.
But they only drew at ho, which dented their morale. Now, in the third match, conceding two early goals to Real Madrid made them desperate to equalize, but they couldn't break through the defense. This anxiety made their performance worse.
Soon, the first half ended.
Both teams returned to the locker rooms.
Guardiola kept pumping his players with motivational talk, trying to ignite their fighting spirit.
But now, it wasn't sothing inspiration could fix—they needed to see goals to turn things around.
Helpless, Guardiola could only pin his hopes on ssi.
In Real Madrid's locker room:
"In the second half, Diarra cos off, Arbeloa substitutes in. The midfield's task is simple: you must mark ssi at all tis. Don't let him face one-on-one situations. When defending ssi, always double up. Understood?"
Arbeloa, Kaká, and Khedira imdiately nodded.
Mourinho had a good grasp of how to defend against ssi.
As long as they didn't give ssi one-on-one opportunities, they could effectively contain him.
Just like Ancelotti used Pirlo and Gattuso to double-team ssi, Mourinho had previously used Cambiasso and Zanetti for the sa purpose.
This ti, he planned to repeat the tactic.
Mourinho believed Barcelona's lineup had beco rigid, with no substitution options left, so they had to rely on ssi to create goals and hope for a coback.
But Mourinho wouldn't easily give Guardiola that chance.
In the second half, the teams switched sides.
As soon as the half began, ssi frequently dropped back to receive the ball.
Real Madrid was prepared, using the tactics devised at halfti to repeatedly limit ssi, preventing him from breaking through smoothly.
ssi tried hard to tear apart Real Madrid's defense.
But individual effort had its limits. Against Real Madrid's impregnable defense, he had no way through.
70 minutes in.
Mourinho made another substitution.
Di María and Marcelo ca off.
Albiol and Garay ca on.
Real Madrid further strengthened their defense, replacing the exhausted left-back Marcelo with the fresh-legged Albiol.
Seeing this substitution, Guardiola's eyes showed a flash of disappointnt.
After gaining the advantage, Real Madrid advanced step by step, steadily adding weight to their lead. With the halfti substitution and the 70-minute change, they used three substitutions to seal Barcelona's fate.
"No chance left!"
Guardiola shook his head and sighed.
Did they play poorly?
No!
It was just that Real Madrid played too well.
In these three grueling matches, Real Madrid's resilient willpower saw them through, while Barcelona sank deeper into the mud, unable to move, ultimately leading to failure.
On the pitch, Barcelona's players were still fighting, but their steps were heavy.
Earlier, there had been so communication, but now they played in silence.
Clearly, they had basically accepted defeat.
Upfront, Suker strolled around, occasionally dropping back to support.
But he didn't need to retreat too often. Barcelona's attacks were fierce but lacked heart.
Their passes were aimless, their offense chaotic, everyone playing individually, hardly any coordination.
Such attacks couldn't threaten Real Madrid's defense.
Suker glanced at the big screen—ti was running out.
Finally, the fourth official raised the electronic board: three minutes of stoppage ti.
Both sets of players sighed in relief.
Real Madrid: Finally, it's ending!
Barcelona: Finally, it's ending!
The sa words, but with two different anings.
"The match is nearing its end. This might be Barcelona's last attack this season. Barcelona beat every other team, but they just couldn't defeat Real Madrid!"
"In the league, and in the Champions League!"
"With less than a minute left, Barcelona's chances of a coback are basically gone!"
Thump!!
ssi's low shot was blocked by Pepe's foot.
Iniesta rushed to the loose ball, trying to follow up.
But just then, the whistle blew.
Three sharp whistles!
Full ti!
"The match is over! It's over!!"
"The second leg of the 2010/2011 Champions League semifinal: Real Madrid defeats Barcelona 2-0 at ho!"
"Over two legs, Real Madrid beats Barcelona 3-1 on aggregate, advancing to the Champions League final!"
"Real Madrid's last Champions League final was in the 2001/2002 season, when Raúl-led Real Madrid lifted the trophy. But no one expected it would take nine years to return to the final."
"Nine years! How many people's youth has passed? Casillas, then a substitute goalkeeper, is now Real Madrid's captain!"
"New generations replace the old. Most of that legendary white-clad team have left professional football, but this new Real Madrid has completed its glorious revival!"
"They defeated Barcelona at ho, stepping over their rivals' bodies to reach the Champions League final, on their path to glory!"
"Go! Real Madrid! Go! Boys!"
Gonzalez shouted: "Write your legendary story!"
Thud!
Srna did a forward roll and lay flat on his back.
He gasped for breath, but his face was filled with an excited smile.
Champions League final, here we co!
"You played brilliantly. Well done!"
Casillas ca over, offering a hand.
Srna smiled and took it.
Casillas helped Srna up.
"Now's not the ti to talk about being tired. There's still one final left!"
Srna said.
Hearing this, Casillas nodded gravely, then smiled: "But now, it's ti to enjoy the mont."
The two shared a smile.
Just then, a loud shout rang out.
They both turned to look.
Suker was leading a group charging toward them.
Suker leaped up, grabbing one each, and tackled them to the ground.
"Final!! We're coming!!"
Suker laughed joyfully.
The two also broke into smiles.
Quickly, Suker rolled away.
Before they could react, Real Madrid players rushed over, piling on top in a celebratory dogpile.
Suker had dodged just in ti; otherwise, he'd have been buried too.
That's a forward's experience!
These two—a defender and a goalkeeper—were used to being on top, clearly lacking experience.
Look! Got buried, didn't they!
The stadium erupted in applause. Real Madrid fans were ecstatic.
Not only did they secure a Champions League final ticket, but they did it by defeating Barcelona. It felt incredible.
Of course, there was still one more critical match, but now was the ti to celebrate.
After nine long years!
They had finally returned to the Champions League final.
They were just one step away from the Champions League title!
"Played very well this match!"
Faria praised.
Mourinho: "We did play well, but Barcelona's form collapsing also helped. That made the match easier."
With that, Mourinho turned: "Alright, ti for handshakes!"
He walked toward the tunnel.
Guardiola was silently leaving. Losing the league and the Champions League, failing to deliver results for two consecutive seasons as manager, left him deeply frustrated.
"Great match!"
Mourinho initiated a handshake.
Guardiola pressed his lips, looking at the Portuguese man barely containing his smug smile. He really wanted to punch him.
But he held back.
After a brief handshake, Guardiola turned and left without another word.
Mourinho shook his head: "So lacking in respect!"
Hearing this, Faria shot Mourinho a disdainful look.
José, that's not for you to say!
But as the winner, Mourinho had the right. The dia would report whatever he said.
Suker was also surrounded by dia.
"I'm very excited to reach the Champions League final. For us, it's a reward for this season. Of course, the job isn't done yet—there's one more tough match ahead."
"But these three matches have made us more resilient. Even with heavy physical toll, our ntality can make up for it!"
Suker winked at the cara: "Folks, see you in London!"
With that, Suker turned and walked into the tunnel.
In Real Madrid's locker room, celebrations were in full swing.
Players were cheering and jumping around.
The joy after victory was hard to describe—it was pure elation.
Especially after three grueling matches without a loss, thoroughly teaching Barcelona a lesson—it felt even better.
Marcelo danced so inexplicable Brazilian steps—Brazilians loved to dance.
Nearby, Kaká and Ramos swayed to the rhythm. Suker didn't join in but sat on the bench, watching them with a smile.
Soon, Mourinho walked in.
Imdiately, players surrounded him, grabbed him, and tossed him into the air.
This season, Real Madrid's transformation was largely thanks to Mourinho.
After such a major victory, the atmosphere and relationships beca incredibly harmonious.
Though underlying tensions still existed, now was the ti to enjoy the mont.
For now, Real Madrid was surprisingly warm.
After celebrations ended, Real Madrid showered and boarded the bus to leave the stadium.
Along the way, Madrid fans followed until the bus entered the highway, shouting "¡Hala Madrid!" as they watched it leave.
Victory was the best redy.
Any conflicts could be diluted by the joy of winning.
"Alright, the Champions League semifinal is over. The final is on the 26th—over 20 days away. During this ti, our task is to securely win the league title!"
Mourinho raised a finger: "Let's secure one trophy first!"
Hearing this, the players cheered again.
Today was destined to be a fiery day.
European dia quickly reported the news.
*"Real Madrid Defeats Barcelona 2-0 at Ho, Advances to Champions League Final!"*
"After Nine Years, Real Madrid Returns to the Champions League Final!"
"Three Matches, Two Wins and a Draw: Real Madrid's Resilience in Grueling Battles!"
dia praised Real Madrid's performance in these three matches.
Their opponent was Barcelona!
Against Barcelona, most teams would be thankful to win even one match.
But Real Madrid didn't lose a single one in three critical battles.
Such tenacity amazed many.
It also led to new estimates of Real Madrid's stamina and peak performance.
From these three matches, Barcelona grew increasingly fatigued.
Real Madrid only got stronger.
With such a gap, victory naturally went to Real Madrid.
Of course, the unsung hero behind this was fitness coach Pintus.
His fitness regin kept Real Madrid physically throughout the season.
Especially the hypoxic mask training, which greatly enhanced their peak performance.
In endurance battles, Real Madrid feared no one.
The longer it went, the more they could pull ahead.
To reward Pintus, Florentino Pérez promised the coaching staff a generous bonus if they won the Champions League final.
The players would also get one.
Florentino Pérez's promise further boosted the players' enthusiasm.
For Suker, the money was a drop in the bucket, but it was still a nice little reward.
As for Mourinho, he wasn't too interested.
Or rather, Florentino Pérez was avoiding the main issue.
Florentino Pérez understood better than anyone what Mourinho wanted, but he skirted around it, never addressing the transfer authority issue.
Since Florentino Pérez wouldn't bring it up, Mourinho would have to fight for it himself.
Now wasn't the ti!
After winning the league and Champions League, he would confront Florentino Pérez to discuss transfer power.
The three matches concluded perfectly.
Real Madrid's players finally breathed a sigh of relief. That night, they slept soundly.
Reviews
All reviews (0)