Page 103 - Pep Guardiola: Another Way of Winning: The Biography

on what to do in order to avoid problems with Chelsea’s Didier Drogba: basically, it was about not
sticking to him when he had his back to you. He also told his players to repeat a few moves around
the same area in order to get the attention of Chelsea’s defenders and then, the next time, appear on
the other side to surprise them.

But it was obvious right from the start that Barcelona lacked penetration. They had the ball but
didn’t do anything dangerous with it. Víctor Valdés saved the side with key interventions after
Chelsea counter-attacks or dangerous set pieces, but Barcelona went into half-time 1-0 down after
Essien scored with a shot from outside the box.
Pep needed to intervene. He didn’t speak to anybody during the short walk through the narrow
tunnel that takes you to the Stamford Bridge away team dressing room. As soon as he entered, and
once everybody was inside, with energy, gesticulating in the middle of the room, holding the eyes of

the players, he told them they had to be true to what they had done all year, that they shouldn’t be
scared. ‘Believe, believe with all of your hearts that we can score, because then we will definitely
score.’
There was also the tactical instruction: they should play fast balls down the wings, because
Chelsea allowed them to start moves from the back and neither Anelka nor Malouda closed down that
area particularly well.

Chelsea, with Guus Hiddink pulling the strings, wasn’t a puppet like Real Madrid had been a few
days earlier: they faced Barça with defensive rigour and a superhuman effort from their players. It
was a fateful night for the referee Tom Henning Ovrebo, who ate away at Chelsea’s morale: he
unfairly sent off Abidal but he let Barça off with a couple of penalties, four according to Chelsea’s
protests, the strongest call being a clear handball by Gerard Piqué after the break.
Perhaps Pep Guardiola shouldn’t have sent Piqué up front to play as a striker so early in the game
(with around twenty minutes left) and perhaps Hiddink shouldn’t have replaced Drogba, supposedly

injured, with Juliano Belletti around the same time, sending the wrong message to his players. Both
managers may have got it wrong at some point, but they agreed the game was as good as over towards
the end. So Guardiola hugged Hiddink, as if to congratulate him on the imminent victory, some
understood.
It was a hug, yes, but it was exceptional, with a smile, too, even. It was the hug of a noble fighter
recognising the merits of his opponent during the extraordinary battle.

A few seconds later, Iniesta scored.
It was Barcelona’s only shot on goal of the whole game. In the ninety-third minute.
Voted the best moment of the season by the Barcelona fans. Better than any final of that year, better
than Rome and Manchester United. Better even than scoring six goals at the Bernabéu. It was just
ecstatic, orgasmic. Everybody, with the exception of Chelsea fans, jumped to celebrate with Iniesta.
‘Things were getting worse in the game,’ Iniesta remembers. ‘We were tired. It wasn’t physical
tiredness, it was something almost psychological. Alvés went up the right wing, crossed to the centre,

it fell to Samuel, and from then one of the most important moments of my life arrived. I got the ball
from Messi. I didn’t hit it with the instep of my foot, nor with the tip nor the inside. I hit it with my
heart. With all of my soul. I don’t think there are many photos of me on the pitch shirtless, I don’t
usually celebrate that way.’
It was twenty seconds from the moment Frank Lampard lost possession. Seven players involved,
twelve touches of the ball before the goal that changed the contemporary history of the club. A

portrait of Pep’s team that, despite walking on the edge, had created a little masterpiece.
Perhaps, if Iniesta hadn’t been the author of that goal, we wouldn’t have seen Guardiola’s legs