It's Monday and PSG lands in Barcelona. Luis Enrique changes strategy. He chooses to put away the matches and gasoline and makes his face look, let's say, less harsh. TIC Tac. The hours pass slowly for the culés waiting for the game. The PSG fans arrive, and Barcelona notices it. Flares, smoke and chants. The Champions League anthem plays, Montjuïc whistles, packed to capacity. The best entry of the season. The fans believe. Raphinha's goal. To the semi-finals? Yeah? The chimera begins to seem real. Araújo runs over Barcola. The direct red erases the smile on the fans' faces. And Dembélé's goal turns it on. The dream of the semi-finals becomes cloudy until it becomes a nightmare of exhaustion, disarray and bad decisions. Emotional kidnapping, they call it.
The Barça that was able to win at the Parc des Princes concedes a rout at home. Goodbye to the Champions League. This time, however, at the gates of the semi-finals. No dramas. Not ridiculous. So, yes. But with internal controversy. Thank you, Gundogan. The sun rises again and the culés lick their wounds. It was a penalty! We were so close! Araújo apologizes to the fans on social networks. Doubts about the finality of Xavi's deferred resignation are over. Not German route or anything. Rafa Márquez warms up on the sideline. And? Guardiola also had no experience in big teams when he took charge of Barça.
Guardiola arrives with City at the stadium. Chants and blue smoke to welcome the bus. Real Madrid has never won at City's field. Ancelotti, as always, calm. He plays the Champions League anthem, whistles the packed stadium. Goal from Rodrygo. Madrid's competitive gene walks impassively through the Etihad. Goal by Kevin de Bruyne. Extension. City tries again and again. Madrid resists. Sign the penalties. And the coin comes out heads. In Guardiola's face. Champions League semi-finals again. The fifteenth? Madrid's classification overstates Barça's defeat. An elimination of whites would have relativized it. Smoothed. Sweetened. The communicating vessels.
The sun rises again and the culés go back to licking their wounds. Araújo sings the mea culpa again. He has recovered from the sporting and emotional shock. The Champions League is behind us. The controversy, no. Take the 'non-answer', Gündogan! And now, on Sunday, the classic. Barça has one more day to prepare for the match and recover emotionally. Madrid, one less day to recover from the physical wear and tear of Manchester and keep the euphoria unleashed intact. TIC Tac. The hours will pass slowly until Sunday night. The Bernabéu will roar with pride. Barça will make the airlift journey with pride. And the culés will get excited again for the third time this week. And if...? And they will once again test the strength of your heart rate. Let's see if there is more luck this time. It is a classic. And on Monday the sun will rise again.
