Hell at Camp Nou for Away Teams - 2
Camp Nou. To Koreans, it's better known by the English pronunciation Camp Noo. FC Barcelona's home stadium, which boasts a capacity of a whopping 100,000 (precisely 99,354) spectators.
As we entered Camp Nou, I spotted the Borussia Dortmund fans tucked away in one corner of the stands.
According to UEFA regulations, all clubs playing in European competitions must allocate 5% of their stadium seating to away fans.
FC Barcelona had allocated exactly 5% to Dortmund.
'Well... we would've done the same.' I slowly took in the Camp Nou. The atmosphere from the crowd felt like they were ready to tear Dortmund apart right then and there.
"O leo messi, Dios de Futbol Si intentas compararlo en evidencia quedarás (If you try to compare Messi to anyone else, you're just being a fool.)"
The faintly fanatical vibe at Camp Nou was starting to intimidate Dortmund's young players.
"oooh Leo Messi!"
The Messi chant ended, and the Champions League anthem began playing throughout Camp Nou.
Right before kickoff, we gathered in a circle to steel our resolve.
"90% of the crowd are FC Barcelona fans. Today, let's be the villains here."
The Dortmund players nodded at Sebastian Kehl's words, then took their positions.
And before long—
Beep—!
With the referee's whistle, the match kicked off at Camp Nou, known as hell for away teams.
Not just Camp Nou—there are plenty of stadiums dubbed hell or the grave for away teams.
Liverpool's Anfield and Dortmund's home ground, Signal Iduna Park, are among them.
What they all have in common is the fervent support from the fans.
That's why fans are called the 12th man.
The roar of the crowd has a huge impact on performance. Sure enough, Dortmund seemed affected by the nearly 90,000 hostile fans, failing to show the solid defense from the first leg against FC Barcelona.
10 minutes in, Dortmund hadn't crossed the halfway line once and was just getting pummeled by Barcelona.
[Kagawa Shinji loses the ball! Daniel Alves immediately starts driving forward!]
Barcelona, having thwarted Dortmund's attack again, transitioned to offense.
Alves overlapped and passed to Xavi.
With just two ball touches, Xavi escaped Dortmund's press and sent a pass to Messi.
Messi returned it to Xavi and burst toward the penalty box.
Meanwhile, Xavi's pass went to Iniesta.
Iniesta glanced at Messi's position and dropped a one-touch pass into the box.
Thud—! Messi casually chipped it past the Dortmund keeper like a pass.
Despite five defenders around, Dortmund conceded without a fight.
"...Fuck."
"They suck at soccer."
Dortmund fans were stunned by how easily Barcelona dismantled the defense and scored.
With the aggregate score tied, Barcelona kept the momentum, pressing forward relentlessly.
Messi, playing almost as a free-roaming forward, dropped into midfield to claim the ball instead of sticking to position.
He easily shook off Dortmund's pressure and defense, dictating Barcelona's attacks.
To mark Messi, two or three players stuck to him, creating gaps elsewhere.
Sanchez, star of Mount Messi, exploited one such gap.
Messi, surrounded by Dortmund defenders, threaded a sensational pass through their legs to Sanchez.
Fortunately, Roman Weidenfeller got there first and claimed it, but Barcelona's attacks continued.
'Damn, conceding so early.'
Barcelona, now level on aggregate, leisurely circulated the ball, steadily draining Dortmund's energy.
A single defensive error often leads straight to a goal, so defending is mentally more exhausting than attacking.
Fine for now, but soon concentration would waver.
And unfortunately, my prediction came true.
Five minutes after Barcelona's goal.
Xavi, with the ball at the center circle, passed to Iniesta.
"Andres! Return!"
Through a one-two with Iniesta, Xavi escaped the press and fed Lionel Messi.
Messi received it, cut inside from the right, and whipped a left-footed curler from the penalty arc—half a beat ahead.
"Fuck…."
Weidenfeller, frozen like a statue, stared blankly at the net, unable to react to Messi's sudden shot.
It took just 15 minutes from kickoff for Barcelona to take the lead.
Messi had a brace in that short time, and Dortmund players hung their heads in despair against Barcelona's overwhelming power.
After that, communication among Dortmund players ceased. Kickoff resumed, but they quickly lost possession.
Ivan Perisic pressed immediately to win it back, but Xavi Hernandez did a caracole—tapping the ball in circles to an open side—and easily evaded him before passing to Messi.
Messi, on the right flank, used subtle body feints and ball-glued dribbling to break through Dortmund players and enter the box. Defenders crumpled just like minutes ago.
"Fuck. What the hell are you doing, not focusing?!"
Gritting my teeth, I sprinted to the box. As Messi wound up to shoot, I desperately stretched out my leg to block it.
Just before his shot— I barely touched the ball first.
Scrrch—!
A clean tackle grazing the ball. Messi slammed the ground in frustration.
"Hooouuuu—!"
After the successful tackle, I threw an uppercut to the air and roared my celebration.
To lift the sunken Dortmund spirits.
"Fuck! You idiots! Gonna end your Champions League run like this? At least play like you're ready to die out there!"
Sebastian Kehl got the message and acted. Slap—! He smacked his own cheek hard, cursing himself.
The team was startled by the captain's extreme move, but soon one by one, they slapped their own faces to snap out of it.
"Heja!! Nice one, kid captain!!"
Roman Weidenfeller approached with praise, and I nodded. Dortmund, crushed by Camp Nou's atmosphere, began to stir and stretch.
"...."
But the one thing I hadn't considered: Messi's mood after tumbling from my tackle.
Chill—!
A creepy feeling from behind. I turned to see Messi smiling, but his eyes ice-cold, giving me a thumbs-up.
'Why aren't his eyes smiling? Scary as hell.'
This…
We're fucked.