Dwarf's Become Giants (Again)

They were the team with the dodgy back four against the team seeking to make footballing history but in the end the team with the better technique, desire and will overcame the English champions and Barcelona won the Champions League against English opposition for the second time in four years.

You could sense that Barcelona were nervous, the first ball played back to Victor Valdes went out for a throw, there was a crucial last ditch tackle from Gerard Pique and a couple of shots from Cristiano Ronaldo that came close. And then after 10 minutes the match changed direction completely, it was as if somebody had taken a blindfold off the Barcelona players or they had heard the voice of Saint Gordi whispering in their collective ears "this is it, you can win." A move involving Messi and man of the match Andries Iniesta finished with Samuel Etoo pushing the ball around Vidic and the hapless Edwin Van Der Saar. For Eto'o it was the moment he equalled Raul of Real Madrid in becoming only the second player ever to score in two Champions League finals, it also put an end to a dismal run of misses that have plagued him for the past half a dozen games.

After that Barcelona grew in confidence and Manchester United visibly withered. The power and passion of the English Premiership was usurped by the style, grace and enterprise of La Liga. Messi, Xavi and Iniesta weaved triangles and complex geometric shapes around the bewildered Carrick, Anderson, Park and Giggs. The ball was pinged across the vast Rome pitch with such accuracy that you could hear the tendons of the Manchester United players stretching and screaming as they tried to vain to cut out the, almost always, accurate passes. As the game wore on so Barcelona grew more confident and in the second half could have scored three times before they eventually did get the crucial second goal. When the goal came it summed up the night for both victor and vanquished, a lazy half clearance by Patrice Evra, an exquisite cross by Xavi Hernandez and there rising between the six feet four of Rio Ferdinand and the six foot three John O'Shea was the five foot seven Lionel Messi.

Two of the gigantic dwarf's had combined to bring the mighty Old Trafford Goliath to its knees. Every player in the famous red and blue shirts had a game to remember. The so-called dodgy back four were peerless, my only worry was that Yaya Toure seemed to forget at times that he wasn't playing the holding midfield role and wandered past Sergi Busquets. Busquets, who has a habit of making daft tackles and getting booked (he actually got booked at the Nou Camp this season before coming onto the pitch!) had the game of his career and for Gerard Pique, the player who returned to Barcelona having become increasingly frustrated by his career stagnation at Old Trafford, the night was summed up when Wayne Rooney tried to go past him and Pique simply took the ball off his old team mates toes.

Barcelona fielded eight home grown players, seven of them Spanish. The home grown attitude typified by Carlos Puyol, the buccaneering, armband wearing, spirit of Catalonia. All the pre-match hype was about who was the best player in the world, Messi or Ronaldo. In the end the man of the match was a player who, having joined Barcelona as a ten year old, was so in awe of his team mates until last season that he would pass to them rather than shoot himself. But, as Chelsea found out to their cost, when Andries Iniesta does shoot it tends to matter, last night he didn't score but he was sublime in every thing he did.

After the match Sir Alex Ferguson was magnanimous in defeat as befits a truly great manager, he couldn't really be anything else, he was outwitted tactically, had at least three players in his side who were clearly unfit and the other eight lacked the desire to compete where it mattered. For Pep Guardiola it was possibly the greatest day of his short managerial career, the choices left to him in selecting a back four were limited, he'd even offered the left back position to Seydou Keita who had turned him down. In the end the old man of Barcelona, Sylvinho, played the part impeccably and worked well with a clearly unfit Thierry Henry.

So where does this leave the Premiership? Four years running an English club has lost the Champions League final (Arsenal, Liverpool, Chelsea and Man.Utd) and with the exception of Chelsea who lost to United they have all lost to better organised teams, teams who can press the ball and pass the ball, teams who don't give the ball away. One thing that has become abundantly clear is that despite all the hype the Premiership does not offer enough quality in depth and, when faced with the ultimate challenge, playing against the likes of Bolton and Hull City will not prepare you for playing against a team that is in love with the very highest ideals of football.