From Rüdiger to Cubarsí

Barça's men's and women's teams continue to climb the ladder of the ever-increasing season-ending ladder, and neither looks set to stop at the next stage. Flick's team has already secured two titles, is in the spotlight for La Liga, and will play in the Champions League semi-finals on Montjuïc the day after tomorrow. And the women's teams are once again European finalists for the sixth time in the last seven years.

The boys are the result of the cultural shift that began to take shape with Cruyff in the late 1980s. They've never known victimhood, nor the eras when every final was a drama, nor do they know what "historical emergencies" mean. When they were told about the past, they weren't told about square sticks, missed penalty shootouts, kidnappings, or hepatitis, but about sextets, hat tricks, and the time three boys from La Masia, like them, topped the Ballon d'Or podium. The mirror they look into is both familiar and demanding, and although they know that to grasp a similar past they must eat a lot of soup, they are trained not to let their legs tremble. Let me mention just one name: Pau Cubarsí's class, on and off the pitch, is exemplary.

The same can't be said of Real Madrid, spoiled, arrogant, and solipsistic, like a multimillionaire who sees the world from the panoramic penthouse of a skyscraper and thinks he must win by the grace of God. If Vinícius doesn't win the Ballon d'Or, I won't go to the gala in Paris. If the referee for the final reports the Real Madrid TV videos, I'm not going to the dinner in Seville. If after not whistling three clear penalties against me, we end up losing, take me or the referee will kill me. Someone tell them that the champion of thelordshipHe's naked because, in Seville, Real Madrid has broken records for fear of losing and rudeness. And he's about to return to Barcelona to play for La Liga.