Ebooks do not magically appear. When I first started to write “An Illustrated Guide,” the novelty and fun of self-publishing filled me with energy. All the little setbacks were miniature hurdles for me to jump with ease. Then, last month, I filed my taxes. What did I find out? Well, after adding up a few too many 1099-miscs, it dawned on me: I am being way too straight with Uncle Sam. Also, publishing a soccer eBook takes some cash. Sadly, with a modest paying real life job and two kids, the upfront cash for this second eBook is not available. I was going to sell blood and potentially other, more lucrative, bodily fluids, but my better half put her foot down. Turner plasma shall stay within the Turner family. Needy blood transfusion patients be damned!

There is, however, still hope.

Here’s where you come in. I am Kickstartering for the $1,000 that an eBook needs to exist. Yes, I need your help to raise $1,000 by June 6. These funds will cover original artwork by Erik Ebeling, tech stuff (ePub/Mobi conversion), legal stuff (ISBN & Copyright), and other necessary & boring publishing crap that adds up. We’ve crafted some pretty cool rewards, including an Advanced Copy of the book for $15, a PDF-ePub-MOBI bundle of An Illustrated Guide for $10, a Real Madrid jersey SIGNED BY JUNITO for big spenders, and some signed original prints for ballers. Unfortunately, Dr. Dre was on tour with a hologram and unable to donate any custom Ferenc Puskas “Ghostface Playa” signature headphones. We are just as disappointed as you are.

For the curious at heart, the new book, titled “Real Madrid & Barcelona: the Making of a Rivalry,” will cover the history of Real Madrid & Barcelona from 1899 until 1999. It will go decade by decade and analyze important players, coaches, games, moments, and developments. It will also add political and economic background to illuminate the motives and actions of key individuals. Erik Ebeling has agreed to do the artwork, while (phonetically) Ell-e-o-t-t Turner, me, shall pen the words. No, I don’t actually use a pen. I type on an ergonomic keyboard. But you know what I mean. I’m a lifelong Real Madrid fan, but have loads of respect for Barcelona. I promise balance and honesty in addressing both teams. The Cules have a great history as both a sporting and political institution. I even waxed about recent board room brawls at the Run of Play.

Here’s the ubiquitous “get pumped about this project” video that I made for Kickstarter. I’m pretty confident that my use of a sample from Massive Attack qualifies as fair use under US law, but put the video on Youtube in case Kickstarter doesn’t share my expansive legal perspective:

So, check out the Kickstarter page here and, if you dare, pre-order a copy to support the cause, get your hands on a Real Madrid jersey signed by Junito, or splash the cash to get a full deck of playing cards of the forthcoming illustrations. And you thought your beta MTG Black Lotus was hot shit! Neerrrrrd alerrrrrrrt.

Once again, get more details and/or show your support here. Pretty please. You know it’s more productive than trolling Pottermore and tracking down Dark Knight Rises plot spoilers.

Images: Real Madrid, Barcelona

Song: Massive Attack, “Teardrop”

Hopefully.

Q: Habermaster, you’ve written extensively about the concept of “communicative rationalty.” Basically, you posit that human rationality is the fruit of successful communication. You take a microscope to the norms of argumentation and focus on the phenomena communicated between entities capable of speech and action. Thus, we have to ask – was Jose just being irrational when he stopped communicating with the press? What was up with that?

A: Perhaps the greatest challenge of any philosophy is escaping the pull of relativity on the one hand and indeterminate deconstruction on the other. My theory rests on the concept of reconstructive science – namely, that reason itself is malleable, and thus in constant flux. It is not relative, but rather evolving. Thus, Jose evolved from the big mouthed and arrogant “Special One” to the quiet yet successful La Liga champion. While his capacity for speech disappeared, his actions spoke as loud as words.

Q. Habity-hab-hab, if I may be so informal, you are well known as the last voice of the Enlightenment, the only philosopher left who is willing to spar with postmodern critics. Just as the PoMos love to poopoo John Dewey, it seems that everybody smokes effeminate cigarettes, wears tight jeans, and dumps on Real Madrid because they are successful, popular, and arguably profitable. At least according to Cristiano Ronaldo. Are they just a bunch of designer v neck sweater Foucault acolytes that are also sore losers?

A: Well, my first and foremost criticism of postmodernity is that their scholars’ works of literature and art are equivocal as to the seriousness of their enterprise – we must ask, do they take their philosophy serious, or is it simply a wink & nod attempt to deconstruct with no desire to reconstruct? While Barcelona has long espoused a theory of “possession soccer”, they recently have started to play a traditional run-and-cross winger in Cristian Tello. Also, two years ago, they signed Zlatan Ibrahimovic, a target forward. This year, they lost and many ascribe the failure to the lack of a “direct Plan B.” Thus, is their attempt to deconstruct the run-and-kick approach a genuine endeavor, or will they try to sign Fernando Llorente in the off-season?  I do not describe them as sore losers, but rather believe they are in the midst of an existential metaphysical identity crisis.

Q: Haber-master of the universe, one of your most famous historical debates revolved around revisionist German historians. To make a long story short, some academics tried to recast the Nazis as an isolated and elitist element, detached from the German public and thus, in your opinion, those historians tried to shift the moral blame from the public to an amorphous fringe. In terms of guilt-shifting and Madrid, should anybody be blamed for the loss to Bayern in the Champions League semi-finals? The defense? Mourinho? Pepe? Can Madrid even dream of winning that trophy if they can’t keep a clean sheet at home? In sum, would a Modernist moral scholar impose an imperative on Real Madrid to sign a real center back?

A: Society always seeks to narrow the scope and range of guilty individuals in past atrocities. The familiar “I was only following orders” helps the accomplices sleep at night. However, society must accept responsibility in various layers and at all layers. For example, Pepe stamped on Messi’s hand. However, Mourinho played Pepe. And Perez hired Mourinho. And Real Madrid’s socios voted to elect Perez. In that sense, every Madrid socio was guilty of stamping on Messi’s hand. They should all apologize. Immediately. And stop trying to just blame Pepe.

Q: Now Habercrombie & Fitch, you and Jacques Derrida engaged in a series of heated debates in which you questioned whether he had reduced philosophy to little more than literature and logic. You boldly asked whether Derrida’s thoughts could even provide a foundation for social critique, or if it was just a temporal philosophy of origins with the lasting power of a mayfly. In La Liga last season, Pep Guardiola called Jose Mourinho his puto amo (f’ing master). Jose Mourinho also wetwillied the assistant coach for Barcelona during a SuperCup brawl. What causes grown men, either philosophers or football managers, to act like petty children?

A: One of the most fundamental questions in our life is morality. We must always ask – is something immoral or moral? For me, the relativists such as Derrida manipulate reason to tear down societal structures, but leave us with no house, no roof, no basement, just a crater of uncertainty. Hence, for me, reason is both context-dependent and must be evaluated alongside history. Only by looking at the validity of everyday communication and presuppositions can we both analyze, criticize, and still have a framework from which to make moral conclusions. Jose and Pep had a serious breakdown in communication, and indirectly mocking one another via press conferences is probably not the healthiest way to form a bond.

Q: Habermastercard, you must either have a bulletproof vest or an iron cast of confidence. By that, I mean you take slug after slug after slug in the academic world. Foucault criticized your theory as utopian, Cohen criticized it as not including the lens of oppressed minorities, and Kompridis says its too procedural. Do you ever get tired of being attacked? Are you exhausted? Do you think Mou feels the same way with Marca and Jorge Valdano spitting bs his way once a day? If Foucault was still alive, would you feel the urge to wet-willy him out of anger? Should you?

A: It is standard for postmodernists to claim that any theory resting on the enlightenment is utopian – they’re a bunch of cynical downers, buzzkills, and rarely get invited to any of the good post-academic conference parties or happy hours. Cohen and Kompridis just don’t get my theory – minorities are definitely one of the specific contexts of reason. However, something universal can and does unite the oppression of say, females by males, and the oppression of say, blacks by white. The relativists, however, can’t even get close to this question because the very foundation of “oppression” is deconstructed. So yes, it gets tiring and I’m sure Mou is exhausted. However, if he reads Marca and actually cares then it’s his own fault. Most of their articles would not pass peer-review academic journal muster.

Q: We appreciate your time, and now we’ll cut to the chase: nobody likes Richard Rorty, he’s just this little wiener that runs around, starts debates, and then cites you when things heat up. What happens when you’re not around? Who will put him in timeout? On a related note, we’re also worried about succession at Madrid. If Mou goes, who could replace him? Is there another Special One somewhere? If not, then can we ethically clone Jose? What if we promise to really really carefully and morally handle the situation?

A: Postmodernists often attempt to paint technological change as novel and the impetus for a rejection of modernity and its notion of categorical morality. However, technology has always changed. Since Frankenstein and before, we have grappled with the notions of science, life, and values. I am flattered by Mr. Rorty’s citations to my works, even if he sometimes twists my theories in unexpected ways. I’d really advise against cloning Jose just for one simple reason: both the real life Jose and the clone would probably become restless and stop at nothing to try and kill one another. And this would distract them from coaching.

Q: Lastly, and perhaps a little off topic, if your last name was not Habermas, but rather Kopf, do you think children would have mocked you incessantly during middle school and well into high school for the name Jurgen Kopf? What if your name had been Jurgen Kopf N. Klosit?

A: …….

Last Saturday at the Nou Camp, Real Madrid were the sharks.

Before last season’s Champions League final, Brian Phillips predicted a coming cule decline. Why? Well, practically, several key players have approached the expiration date for maximum performances: Puyol and Xavi grow younger not. Both are world class, but tires lose tread. Lately, misfortune unrelated to sport has struck Eric Abidal (may he enjoy a speedy recovery). David Villa seriously injured himself, even though he wasn’t exactly lighting up the nets beforehand. In part, the injury trade winds stopped blowing in their favor.

And Cristian Tello and Thiago are Cristian Tello and Thiago. Good players, just not world beaters. The myth of the La Masia academy – that it consistently produces Hogwarts’ magicians – should finally be put to bed. For the last few years, Barcelona has rode almost the exact same starting eleven. Their bench rarely needed to provide a spark or insurance. Rather, Iniesta and Xavi would dart around the midfield while Messi provided the cutting edge. The back line of Alves, Pique, Puyol, and Abidal shielded Victor Valdes from actual work. The formula reached a monotonous consistency, depending on your affiliation. Yet reality has now undone the equation.

In terms of narrative, every team that succeeds over a spell of time goes through four phases: ascent as underdog; champion; champion with aura; champion without aura. Rijkaard and Ronaldinho lifted Barcelona from the ashes, while Messi and Pep solidified their view at the top. Still, the gap narrowed. For the last several months, Real Madrid has battled to kill Barcelona’s aura. The Supercopa, the Copa del Rey, last year’s Champions League – at a certain stage, Mou stopped game-planning for Barcelona and fielded his offensive 4-4-2 (with Ozil dropping back) in key games. The merengues huffed and puffed, but Barcelona managed to escape each time.

Until last Saturday. The aura is dead. Long live the aura. For their part, Real Madrid looked fit and organized over 90 minutes. Unlike the Chelsea game, Barcelona did not turn their possession into scoring chances. Madrid did not simply ride their luck – they snuffed out danger in the center of the park. Yes, Xavi could have scored an early equaliser, but Barcelona saw few clear cut chances after that. And this also was not a studs-up foul fest, apart from Dani Alves’ love affair with Cristiano Ronaldo’s calves. No Copa del Rey final redux. The most important aspect was the unseen. Leo Messi‘s false 9 role rendered him invisible – he might as well have been playing for the albiceleste.

Yet I still feel dirty and uneasy. I’m not incredulous, just uncomfortable. Real Madrid’s win, a Nou Campazo, was merited. We have killed the aura, even though the body remains. A Jason-esque short-term resurrection remains possible. Barca are favorites to beat Chelsea. I wouldn’t doubt a King’s Cup and Champions League double. We could even trip up in La Liga to make matters close. However, the next wave of clasicos will lose their luster. Neither team sits atop a throne.

Elliott’s soccer eBook, An Illustrated Guide to Soccer & Spanish, is available on Amazon for under $5. Check out a free preview here.

Brian Phillips has the scoop on all the leading Chelsea manager candidates and the betmakers’ odds for each one. NOT. Seriously, doesn’t everybody realize that the Blues manager is an on call/seasonal position, like farm work picking citrus in a field? Of course, if you pick enough oranges, you have a chance of being retained full time. Not so with Chelsea. And people are sick of the carousel. (Grantland)

Clint Dempsey has had a monster season for Fulham and Clint-sanity has replaced Lin-sanity this side of the pond. Luigi has penned an amazingly cool pic of Deuce that you must see. Seriously. (Squareroot of Cruyff)

In case you missed yesterday’s game, Cristiano Ronaldo bagged a hat trick and Real Madrid beat Atletico 4-1. The best goal of the bunch was his wicked free kick that managed to bend, dip, and then dip and bend. The shot flatflooted Atletico’s goalie, who could only hear the ting of his left hand post as the ball entered the net. Check out a GIF. (101 Great Goals)

Racism and ethnic tensions have almost always simmered below the surface of soccer. However, the popular “death to Arabs” chant in Israeli soccer games is both disturbing and needs to be stamped out. For the curious, I recommend this read on the history of this popular yet poisonous anthem. (Turbulent World of Middle Eastern Soccer)

Messi has scored a ton of goals, and his individual brilliance has left us all with shaking pens and mouths agape. Can we even hope to describe his continual brilliance? Luckily, at around age 27 he will start to descend and appear a homo sapien. Until then, enjoy this glossary of Messi terms. (Catch 22 Soccer)

Often, instead of addressing the team we face, we suffer thinking of the team behind us. Barcelona. Four points. Not ten points. Four. Six less. Less than half. Oh, and Atletico de Madrid.

If I learned anything from the FutSail Online University fiasco, it’s how to write SEO headlines. Morally, though, I also learned that many other fine big media outlets spew our churnalist previews better than these parts. Sadly, they spin the same tune. Blah blah. Real Madrid must win. Blah blah. Feel pressure from Barcelona. Blah blah. Strikers dip in form. Blah blah. No truly dominant midfield presence. Blah blah. Alexis Sanchez is God. Blah blah. Oh, and Atletico de Madrid.

I dare not follow these enormous footsteps of giants. The shadow would swallow me whole. Thus, I will say that Atletico de Madrid are having a tidy season after selling star strikers Diego Forlan and Kun Aguero. Falcao, when on form, is dazzling. The Brazilian Diego, when on form (which is almost never) also offers a few tricks. The Vicente Calderon stadium is less than hospitable, but is slightly better than that crappy Madrid hostel you stayed a few summers ago that smelled of unshaven European female armpits.

That is to say, this game is a must win for Madrid because they feel the pressure from Barcelona because they used to have a ten point lead but now only have a four point lead and will play Barcelona at the Nou Camp in a few weeks.

Ignore the fact that, for the first time in a few years, Madrid has a deep roster at each position. Ignore that, for the first time in ages, Madrid leads La Liga and has done so for months. Ignore that Madrid’s last three matches at the Nou Camp, last season’s UCL second leg, the SuperCopa second leg, and the Copa del Rey second leg, Madrid played much better than at the Bernabeu. Ignore that Madrid’s defense has done pretty well against quality teams like Malaga and Valencia.

Buy the dread hype. Listen to Chicken Little. Set your hair on fire. Sell the family heirlooms. Build a steel bunker and fill it with enough Cap’n Crunch to feed all the animals on Noah’s ark for a week. Or two. The most important thing you can and should do ahead of the Madrid-Atletico game is think about one thing and one thing only: Barcelona.

Elliott’s ebook, An Illustrated Guide to Soccer & Spanish, is available on the Kindle for under $5.00. Check out a free preview here.

Here are the links.

Americans rejoice: you can now order and buy Spiel magazine online via Paypal. In Issue Two, I deconstructed 80′s notions of hyper-masculinity by taking a super close (like really really close) look at US President Ronald Reagan and Mexican/Real Madrid icon Hugo “Hugol” Sanchez. It’s a fun read and big hair is mentioned. Really big hair. (Spiel Magazine)

At FBM, I spilled out some words on the limited local Pilsner options in Nicaragua. I also wax a bit on Real Esteli, the king of the Nicaraguan crop and regular Concacaf Champions League entrant. Just for the record: Tona is better than Victoria, and that pic of a dude eating nachos in the Sandino airport is not, in fact, me. However, nothing says Mexican in Nicargua like a dude chowing down nachos in the Sandino Airport. (Free Beer Movement)

Lastly, at IBWM I documented the history and recent rise of soccer in Nicaragua. From the early glory days of Diriangen FC to the national team’s 2009 Gold Cup qualification to Real Esteli’s ascent, things look great…until you look under the surface. Then, a frightening specter presents itself: a quasi-dictator one day manipulating barra bravas for violent political ends. (In Bed With Maradona)

Elliott’s eBook, An Illustrated Guide to Soccer & Spanish, is available on your iPhone, iPad, and iPhone Touch by clicking here.

As a starting point, please have a copy of Zizek’s “The Sublime Object of  Ideology” handy. Why? Well, only Hegel and psychoanalysis can shed light on the deeper meanings and reaches of this “advertisement.” This film, ahem, actually reveals a fissure point that divides the idealistic concept of the “All” from the materialist notion of the “apparent All.” We derive pleasure from seeing it, but ultimately it revolves around the Freudian death drive’s attempt to grasp the totality of reality. Here’s how.

We know that Iker and Andres are not really fans of the pedestrians. The pedestrians also know. But Iker and Andres know that we know and also that the pedestrians know. Thus, we also derive pleasure from our participation in the “ironic act” – an obvious sketch that everybody gets as a joke. We the discerning consumer, the skeptical pedestrian, and the good-natured but contractually obligated celebrity athletes all play our predetermined roles.

The film is not the “apparent ALL” in the sense that visual medians like documentaries attempt to expose an unfiltered reality. Rather, the movie works as an unfiltered expose of filtered reality. We laugh at the obviously preposterous premise. However, a purist would argue that, like the “Real World”, the “Bachelor,” and other such programs, this film is a half-assed deconstruction of genre, is perhaps even more deceptive, and therefore the most poisonous pill of all to swallow.

To fully understand the criticism, it’s important to attempt to formulate a baseline of “reality” and “nonreality.” After decades of television, cookie cutter suburban homes with wives, husbands, kids, schools, scripted dialogue, picket fences, laugh tracks and nosy neighbors have become the standard and easy-to-see “not ALL” non-reality. We smell a situational comedy a mile away. The four young single friends live in large metropolis and regularly meet in cafes to discuss amorous escapades, workplace grievances, and career moves. Goofy slapstick character says goofy something and performs amusing & awkward physical act, to our delight. We don’t want to feel left out, so we follow the studio audience and laugh track’s lead. Our face forms a smile, but we don’t smile. That is obviously the “not ALL” non-reality.

But where is the “ALL” reality?

We thus encounter Zizek’s favorite topic: the gap between the transcendental “ALL” and the materialist “not ALL”. In laymen terms, the gap between knowledge as perfect & explanatory versus what we as an individual can see, taste, touch, and smell. Television has always tip-toed in this nether region. In terms of the “not ALL” material world, we plug in the glowing box and press an on switch on a remote control. We see human beings, professional actors, that speak sentences and make gestures to the approval of first, a director barely off screen, and second us, the audience sitting in front of the screen. But where does and can the transcendental “ALL” fit in?

The Casillas-Iniesta video superficially attempts to push us, the athletes, and the pedestrians away from the scripted TV world and closer to reality with an ironic premise. However, you have to ask – are we really totally inside this inside joke? For example, were those really pedestrians? Or paid extras? Or actors? Also, how many pedestrian clips were filmed? How many were cut out? Obviously, not every take made the final video. To flesh out the point, was it mere coincidence that attractive but moody people always got selected (“casted”) to be in MTV’s the Real World? Directors’ hands have altered this reality. It’s as filtered as instant coffee. The Casillas-Iniesta video is thus the most dangerous kind of “not ALL” reality – the kind that sells itself as “ALL” reality. Or at least an approximation.

Therefore, this film succeeds at tugging our emotions because of the Freudian death drive. As Zizek notes, we grasp, claw, and strive to push our sense closer and closer to reality. We long to jump over the grand canyon from the “not ALL” side to the “ALL” side. We have watched Iniesta and Casillas play some scintillating soccer and become Champions of Europe and the World. We’ve seen shitty TV. This film lowers our defenses by mocking TV premises and allegedly reversing the role of fan/athlete. What could have been cooler than to have walked alongside the camera man, filming those guys on the street? Or, even better, getting asked by Casillas for an autograph! Cue swoon-track.

This film amuses, but is no transcendental formation. It’s just the latest flavor in union-scriptwriter-busting neo liberal reality TV 2.0 meets viral internet marketing 101.  Don’t let Casillas’ charms fool you, even if he is a handsome son of a gun.

Video: Dirty Tackle

UEFA’s Financial Fair Play is no different. A recent report shows over half of European soccer clubs uncomfortably in the red. What’s worse is that the “Jones effect” is in full swing – like an obnoxiously new rich gated community in a tax haven exurb, the top clubs spend and abuse credit to compete with one another to win. Obviously, not all debt is bad. To use a person analogy, many professionals rely on student loans to advance themselves and their families. However, the UEFA report shows more shady car dealers than doctors. More disparagingly, Platini, the lapboy of Blatter, does not instill fear. Imagine him in a batsuit, leaping from a rooftop into a dark alleyway to punch a mugger. However, after landing a dainty single blow, he buckles over and is gassed for air.

We tried a special Supporters’ Trust (FCDSTT) to stem debt, but it failed. UEFA needs a hero. Justice needs a face. And I believe it should be Pepe.

I start with two ironclad premises: (1) that justice requires force and (2) Pepe would easily defeat Bane, the antagonist in Batman comics and the forthcoming DKR film. I say both with certainty. As background, in the comics, Bane frees prior bad guys from jail that then battle and tire down Batman, and then Bane breaks Batman’s back. Pepe, however, would cut through Arkham Asylum like Azrael with a lightsaber. The Scrarecrow needs special gas to drive victims crazy. Pepe, from the long and proud line of f’ugly Brazilian born soccer players, needs only to smile & wink in order to melt your eyes to their sockets. The Joker would try to trap Pepe in a prisoner’s dilemma between saving one innocent or another, but halfway through the dialogue Pepe would probably stamp the Joker’s hand, face, and crotch, and then sarcastically applaud the real life police force.

In sum, Pepe is the perfect tool of force to enforce UEFA Financial Fair Play.

Of course, this begs the question – does UEFA really want to enforce these rules?

Logistics would also be a dilemma. Obviously, as the anti-hero who enforces the law but does not abide by “due process” or “arrest warrants” or other major inconveniences for police, Pepe couldn’t be on the UEFA payroll per se. They could probably spare for a Pepe symbol, but may need to channel some funds via an offshore trust or Cayman bank account. They couldn’t give him any awards, but they could half-assed attempt to catch him but look the other way if they ever got close.

The results would be terrific. If anybody can bring an end to the coming backdoor old boys bogus business deals that will soon eviscerate Financial Fair Play, it’s Pepe. Did the Sheik’s Uncle’s business just agree to sponsor City in a record deal? Oh. Wait. Pepe dangled him from the top of the Burj Khalifa until he agreed to tear up the contract. Did City just agree to sign your club’s favorite player? Not so fast. Pepe broke his ACL, MCL, and even a metatarsl for good measure (while he lay prone on the camilla and was being carried off the field).

Of course, the boo birds will blow out of proportion Pepe’s pasts indiscretions. If anything, the time he’s sitting out and serving a suspension would be ideally utilized to enforce FFP provisions. Pepe would bring some needed sharp edges to the corners of the FFP paper tiger. Sure, once Pepe attains perfect 100% compliance then the absence of credit will dry up opportunities for advancement by middle class clubs, but that’s a problem for another day. For now, the bane of football’s existence is debt.

Granted, the greatest problem with European soccer clubs is preposterous labor costs. However, this may actually play to Pepe’s advantage. If he can just end the career of 3-4 players per team, then he could dramatically reduce payroll costs around La Liga and in the Champions League. There are less violent means, such as a salary cap and luxury tax, but that’s stuff for the UEFA folk, not the caped Pepe crusader. Like a heat-sinking missile, he will seek and destroy all potential debt and future FFP problems.

There are two simple facts: FFP needs teeth. And nobody can stamp out free-wheelers like Pepe. Thus, in our darkest hour, we should follow Alfred’s advice and turn to a man that we don’t fully understand.

“Take that, hand that was about to sign a contract at unsustainable wages! Justice!”

In that respect, I present the first ever Futfanatico Caption Contest with the grand prize being the honorary title of “First Ever Champion of a Futfanatico Caption Contest.” Put that on your Linkedin Profile and smoke it! But seriously, here are the rules:

You have seen the above picture. Now, write something funny. More specifically…

1) Be Good-Natured.

I don’t want to ruin your view of life, but I heard that this one time a fan got angry about something about his or her soccer team. In reality, said fan hates his or her life and projects that aggression onto unsuspecting and well paid professional athletes. Pity them. This blog is a well guarded preserve of the passive aggressive, so an unacceptable entry would be “Xavi and Iniesta suck and shit.”

Here are some acceptable entries: “Win at the Bernabeu & Three Thumbs Up!” Or perhaps: “We won, & now we dance….the Macarena.” Also: “Xavi Silences Madrid Crowd; Goes for Swing in Banana Hammock.” You can cut a little closer, perhaps with: “We Lost the League…But Won the Bernabeauty Contest Hands Down.” And lastly: “Greg Lougannis Eat Your Heart Out.”

2) Don’t be Heterosexist.

The key aspect of this picture is a short, hairy dude in a speedo giving the thumbs up. Xavi might as well be on Semana Santa in Monaco. I don’t want any gay jokes and I will be moderating the comments to that effect. All sports involve some degree of same sex bonding, but displays of affection should not be construed or misconstrued to prefer one sexual orientation over another.

3) The Contest Closes At An Undefined Point In Futureland.

My real job has deadlines. I hate them. Thus, this pic caption contest will continue ad infinitum. I prefer that you add your entry to the comments of this post. However, you can send them to me at futfanatico (at) gmail (dot) com. You can also tweet me them, you lazy bastard you. In one weeks’ time, special guest judge Dr. Moschlavius Gumperteer will return to name the top entries and winner. And maybe even give some useful SEO tips! So put on your creative thinking cap and then be ready to dust off that black hat!

Note: this pic was spotted by the eagle eyes of Neil Sandwich. He regularly contributes to the collection of artists formerly known as Surreal Football: the FCF.

Yet, of course, a third class of person watched the game. The kind that write under deadline pressures. Here is what he or she or it wrote in a vain attempt to explain the sporting phenomena. Inside the chest cavity of Barcelona players beats the heart of a Champion. The heart is not abnormally large. The heart does not beat any faster or any stronger than most other hearts. However, there is still a great difference. And it is this: the heart beats inside a chest cavity of a player that is a Champion. And you can always tell a Champion from a non-Champion because the non-Champions finished second or worse in a competition. The Champion? First. So, Barcelona advanced over Madrid because of that little thing between their sternum and spine.

Barcelona had that extra something. Madrid did not. The Cule players just have “it”, but “it” cannot be precisely described with words. Rather, “it’ must be defined in relation to surrounding phenomena. For example, rumors percolate that Elvis Presley himself crafted “it” while working as a secret scientists at Area 51 and manufactured “it” out of the skin of the Lochness Monster, the brain of an alien, and the hair of Bigfoot. “It” was last reported in unofficial government records as being in the hip pocket of Amelia Earheart as she boarded her last flight. Since then, rumor has it that the kidnappers used “it” to help calm down the crying Lindbergh baby, but we can’t really speculate too much more on “it.” The important thing is that Barcelona has “it” and Madrid does not. “It” is the reason that they advanced. Duh.

Barcelona has the right mix of veterans and young players. Sometimes, veterans will get old and no longer be useful. They will lose footraces to younger players. Other times, a player will be too young and react poorly to an adverse crowd or a mistake or a foul. Barcelona’s roster is the perfect mix of veterans that are knowledgeable and young players that win footraces. Real Madrid’s roster is not the right balance. Madrid has too many veterans that are now old and well past their expiration date. Madrid also has too many young players that react poorly to new stimuli like being booed. Thus, Barcelona advanced because of the balance of their roster.

Barcelona’s youth academy is better than Real Madrid’s youth academy. Let’s just forget the Quinta del Buitre and focus on Bojan Krkic and Giovanni Dos Santos, the living proof that La Masia regularly produces world class players like an assembly line. Let’s also forget that Fabregas, Pique, and Iniesta actually left Barcelona to play at other clubs. That is not important. What is important is that La Masia produces consistently world class talent. This is not a golden generation of Spanish players that will fade like Les Bleus of the late 90s and early 2000′s. This is all the work of La Masia. Barcelona has La Masia, Real Madrid does not. Case closed.

Also, tactics. Barcelona played with better tactics. In particular, Puyol’s clever “let Benzema embarass me” tactic truly and fully lured Real Madrid into a false sense of hope, exactly as Pep drew up the game on his chalkboard at halftime. Pep also strategically planned on a Dani Alves screamer goal. Beforehand, Mourinho’s tactical gameplan to concede two early goals was a mistake. He should have tactically planned to only concede a single goal. Conversely, Pep’s halftime tactics to concede two goals was edgy but paid off. And that was the difference. Tactics. Tactics. T-A-C-T-I-C-S.

Lastly, the locker room. My reputable foreign sources reported that Mourinho has lost the locker room. A few weeks ago, Mourinho knew exactly where the locker room was. Mourinho could have been blindfolded and found the locker room. Mourinho knew the locker room like the back of his hand. It was a static, enclosed room in which players dressed into and out of their uniforms. Not anymore.

Mourinho woke up and everybody realized that he had lost the locker room. He’s still not sure how the locker room escaped. It may have been a hole in the fence. Or Perez may have left the gate open for the 1,000th time. What’s worse is that unlike most respectable dog or locker room owners, Mou did not even try to inject any GPS tracking device into the locker room. Thus, Mou’s best bet is to offer a reward, ask some friends to drive around nearby neighborhoods with him and shout “locker room”, and frequently check the “found” section of Craigslist. Pep, however, has his locker room. And it was a major advantage.