Champions League Final 2019
May 9, 2019 14:37:40 GMT
ange postecoslamp, The Quito Diet, and 2 more like this
Post by Deleted on May 9, 2019 14:37:40 GMT
2019 UEFA Champions League Final
01/06/2019
Estadio Metropolitano
Madrid, ES
8:00BST
Liverpool FC vs Tottenham Hotspur FC
Some things just have an inevitability about them. Every year some things just feel cyclical. August to May, the same thing happens every year. For three months we kid ourselves into thinking the year after might be different and then August arrives and we realise it’s more of the same.
Sometimes, there is an anomaly. A wildcard. Leicester in 2016, Wigan winning the FA Cup in 2013, Porto winning the Champions League in 2004, Greece winning the Euros in the same year. These things just feel so out of place, so extraordinary that you still find yourself questioning whether they ever happened at all.
For a time, it seemed that history would repeat itself. Barcelona, Bayern Munich, Juventus, Real Madrid, Manchester City and PSG all topped their groups. Of course, why wouldn’t they? They’re the richest teams in Europe. All six were amongst the favourites to win the title this year. Almost all of them will have won their domestic titles by the time the final arrives on the first day of June.
But none of them will be in the final.
In September, Spurs hosted their first European game of their second consecutive season at Wembley. Their new stadium was supposed to be ready. Wembley would return to its status as the national stadium and the new stadium would take its place. That game ended without victory, as did three others for Spurs in the group stage.
Hope is dangerous. Especially when your fate is out of your own hands. In mid December of last season Spurs fans had hope. Hope that PSV would somehow take their second point from six games in Milan. Hope that the result they found themselves at the end of against Barcelona at Wembley wouldn’t be repeated. The same fate that resigned them to defeat in their first game against Inter, gave them life in round six. Inter and Barcelona were certs to win. But they didn’t.
It isn’t often you can lose three group games and advance. The mountain you leave yourself to climb with a maximum of 9 points can be too much for some. So when Liverpool went into their final game of the group against a Napoli team which had, along with two others, already beaten them this season, it looked dire. Last season’s finalists, gone. But legends are born from these moments. Steven Gerrard’s legacy exists not in England, but in Europe. In half volleys against the Greeks, headers against the Italians. Mohamed Salah’s lives in Napoli. In Roma. In Manchester.
The Champions League is a giant’s platform. It is the biggest club competition in the world. For most it is unfathomable to even play in. It takes luck, not only for your current group but those of decades past who have cultivated the legacy on which your club still lives. Liverpool know this. The stories of Anfield, of European glory and domestic success hold no weight without the past to prop them up. It is a past that has been glorious, a past that has been muddy. For both Liverpool and Spurs they aim to create legacies anew. Stories people will pass onto their grandchildren. For Liverpool, it’s number six. The third bite of a cherry that had tasted so sweet in 2005. For Spurs, it’s about arrival. To announce themselves as not only an exciting, enjoyable team. But a threat. A European powerhouse that can compete for seasons to come.
Barcelona. Manchester City. PSG. Bayern Munich. Juventus. Real Madrid. Institutions, representations of the football elite, bottomless pits of money and a loose interpretation of living within their means. None of these teams will be in the final in June. For Barcelona, it is another failure. For Manchester City, another year falling three steps from glory. For PSG, another year of expectations far outweighing reality. For Bayern, it is now six years without a final. For Juventus, a year of wondering whether just having Ronaldo is enough. For Real Madrid, a year of realising that it was, but maybe only for them.
The two finalists have experienced hard times. For Liverpool, a period of uncertainty, the threat of relegation, of administration. A revolving door of world class talent that just didn’t manifest until they were already gone. For Spurs, a never ending stream of what-ifs, St Totteringham and looking up at those they despised the most.
Where they both nearly fell, now they stand. Two of the Premier League’s most prized assets. The first final in six years to feature no Spanish teams. The first all-English final in eleven years. It is a third final for Klopp. A first for Pochettino. For Liverpool, it is their ninth. For Spurs, their first. Neither manager has won a trophy at their current clubs. Both labelled bottlers. Their paths to the final are similar, their philosophies too. Passion is often dismissed as nothing more than an emotion, easily dulled by superior talent. But what happens when superior talent meets passion? This final.
Of course, the league will be considered in the build up. For all intents, Liverpool are favourites. Their run to the final has seen them face five national champions, three of the favourites for the title. They beat them all. They’ve beaten Spurs twice this season. The gap in the league is over twenty points. Liverpool could play the final as Premier League champions. But none of that matters. Ask Chelsea in 2005 what their league standing meant. United in 2008. City last year. Spurs have had the kind of European story that Liverpool fans talk about years later. The comparisons between Liverpool in 2005 and Spurs in 2019 will only be valid should Spurs win, but it will be a fair one. After all, this is arguably the second best team in the world.
So, perhaps the cycle is broken. Perhaps the previously thought-of-as inevitable now becomes the outlier. The anomaly. Perhaps this is the anomaly. In June, a few hundred thousand English will fill the streets of Madrid and the stands of the Wanda Metropolitano. One will leave heartbroken. One will leave elated. But both will come away having witnessed their club produce a season they’ve never seen their team produce before. Fucking hell. Football. Let’s just enjoy it. May the best team win.
Sometimes, there is an anomaly. A wildcard. Leicester in 2016, Wigan winning the FA Cup in 2013, Porto winning the Champions League in 2004, Greece winning the Euros in the same year. These things just feel so out of place, so extraordinary that you still find yourself questioning whether they ever happened at all.
For a time, it seemed that history would repeat itself. Barcelona, Bayern Munich, Juventus, Real Madrid, Manchester City and PSG all topped their groups. Of course, why wouldn’t they? They’re the richest teams in Europe. All six were amongst the favourites to win the title this year. Almost all of them will have won their domestic titles by the time the final arrives on the first day of June.
But none of them will be in the final.
In September, Spurs hosted their first European game of their second consecutive season at Wembley. Their new stadium was supposed to be ready. Wembley would return to its status as the national stadium and the new stadium would take its place. That game ended without victory, as did three others for Spurs in the group stage.
Hope is dangerous. Especially when your fate is out of your own hands. In mid December of last season Spurs fans had hope. Hope that PSV would somehow take their second point from six games in Milan. Hope that the result they found themselves at the end of against Barcelona at Wembley wouldn’t be repeated. The same fate that resigned them to defeat in their first game against Inter, gave them life in round six. Inter and Barcelona were certs to win. But they didn’t.
It isn’t often you can lose three group games and advance. The mountain you leave yourself to climb with a maximum of 9 points can be too much for some. So when Liverpool went into their final game of the group against a Napoli team which had, along with two others, already beaten them this season, it looked dire. Last season’s finalists, gone. But legends are born from these moments. Steven Gerrard’s legacy exists not in England, but in Europe. In half volleys against the Greeks, headers against the Italians. Mohamed Salah’s lives in Napoli. In Roma. In Manchester.
The Champions League is a giant’s platform. It is the biggest club competition in the world. For most it is unfathomable to even play in. It takes luck, not only for your current group but those of decades past who have cultivated the legacy on which your club still lives. Liverpool know this. The stories of Anfield, of European glory and domestic success hold no weight without the past to prop them up. It is a past that has been glorious, a past that has been muddy. For both Liverpool and Spurs they aim to create legacies anew. Stories people will pass onto their grandchildren. For Liverpool, it’s number six. The third bite of a cherry that had tasted so sweet in 2005. For Spurs, it’s about arrival. To announce themselves as not only an exciting, enjoyable team. But a threat. A European powerhouse that can compete for seasons to come.
Barcelona. Manchester City. PSG. Bayern Munich. Juventus. Real Madrid. Institutions, representations of the football elite, bottomless pits of money and a loose interpretation of living within their means. None of these teams will be in the final in June. For Barcelona, it is another failure. For Manchester City, another year falling three steps from glory. For PSG, another year of expectations far outweighing reality. For Bayern, it is now six years without a final. For Juventus, a year of wondering whether just having Ronaldo is enough. For Real Madrid, a year of realising that it was, but maybe only for them.
The two finalists have experienced hard times. For Liverpool, a period of uncertainty, the threat of relegation, of administration. A revolving door of world class talent that just didn’t manifest until they were already gone. For Spurs, a never ending stream of what-ifs, St Totteringham and looking up at those they despised the most.
Where they both nearly fell, now they stand. Two of the Premier League’s most prized assets. The first final in six years to feature no Spanish teams. The first all-English final in eleven years. It is a third final for Klopp. A first for Pochettino. For Liverpool, it is their ninth. For Spurs, their first. Neither manager has won a trophy at their current clubs. Both labelled bottlers. Their paths to the final are similar, their philosophies too. Passion is often dismissed as nothing more than an emotion, easily dulled by superior talent. But what happens when superior talent meets passion? This final.
Of course, the league will be considered in the build up. For all intents, Liverpool are favourites. Their run to the final has seen them face five national champions, three of the favourites for the title. They beat them all. They’ve beaten Spurs twice this season. The gap in the league is over twenty points. Liverpool could play the final as Premier League champions. But none of that matters. Ask Chelsea in 2005 what their league standing meant. United in 2008. City last year. Spurs have had the kind of European story that Liverpool fans talk about years later. The comparisons between Liverpool in 2005 and Spurs in 2019 will only be valid should Spurs win, but it will be a fair one. After all, this is arguably the second best team in the world.
So, perhaps the cycle is broken. Perhaps the previously thought-of-as inevitable now becomes the outlier. The anomaly. Perhaps this is the anomaly. In June, a few hundred thousand English will fill the streets of Madrid and the stands of the Wanda Metropolitano. One will leave heartbroken. One will leave elated. But both will come away having witnessed their club produce a season they’ve never seen their team produce before. Fucking hell. Football. Let’s just enjoy it. May the best team win.