Barcelona 2 Eintracht Frankfurt 1: Kounde's Two-minute Brace Delivers Victory to Barcelona

 

Kounde celebrates after scoring his second goal of the night. Image - FC Barcelona

Oh, Good ol’ football - you enjoy toying with our feeble hearts, don’t you, you marvelous, troublesome beauty?

In so many ways, football is like life. One second, a team is buzzing, having scored first and riding the high tide into the clouds. In the next two seconds, they are crestfallen, drowning in the very waves they were riding two seconds earlier, slain by two quickfire goals that sliced through them like Excalibur. A second in football, it seems, is a year in life, a minute is a decade.

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Coming into this Champions League clash with Barcelona, Eintracht Frankfurt had conceded 47 goals this season, which is among the highest goals conceded this season. That included a 6-0 thrashing over the weekend at RB Leipzig in the Bundesliga.

Meanwhile, their opponents, the slick, swashbuckling Flick machine came into this match averaging about 3 goals a game.

Yaani, in short, if ever there was a game you would have backed Barcelona to come out like a raging storm and completely blow a team away, this would have been it. If you are the betting kind, this is the type of game you would have put over 4.5 and laid back, believing you knew how it would end.

But when I tell you Barcelona put up one of their least interesting, insipid, and extremely dire performances under the sparkling new lights at the renovated Camp Nou, you would think I was pulling your leg.

But they did.

The first half was all huff and puff and no fire from Barcelona. Honestly, Frankfurt didn’t need to reinvent the wheel. Heck, they didn’t even need wheels. Just a proper bus parked in their penalty box and a willing runner in Knauff, and they were good.

Barcelona played like a bunch of strangers having a kick about as they tried to figure each other out. Those slick, quick combinations down the middle were nowhere to be seen. Pedri and Lamine, forever the two beams of hope for Barca, were flat. Fermin was dire. Lewy anonymous, and Kounde just appeared lost.

Only Raphinha appeared to be having a good game, and that’s because he was a willing runner, as there was little space in between the lines. His cross for Lewy to score in the 10th minute was the best opening Barca created in that half. Too bad, Raphinha had been offside in the buildup, so 0-0 it remained.

Yamal was kept quiet by a tight and effective two-man marking system. So tight were those men on Yamal that I am pretty sure that they went back home smelling his body wash. One would imagine it made for an awkward night with their spouses. I think they sucked oxygen out of Yamal’s lungs based on how tight they were marking him.

Yet despite this, once or twice, or even thrice, Yamal found openings, skipping past his markers to cross, or take a shot. But everything and anything Blaugrana was met with an imperious ‘NO’ from Theate, the Frankfurt centre half who seemed to be everywhere in that defensive line.

When Frankfurt took the lead in the 21st minute, those used to watching Flick’s Barca would not have been too shocked. It was totally against the run of play, an affront to the natural order in which the bout on the Camp Nou turf was unravelling. But totally expected.

Once again, scoring against Barca was as difficult as Einstein’s Theory of Relativity is easy - not at all. All it took was a simple pass over the top from Brown to Knauff to race onto, and the winger did well to hold off Balde and slot the ball home past the stretched fingertips of the imposing Joan Garcia. It was an impudent finish. Not well deserved, but not shocking anyway.

That half ended with Barca players stretching every sinew of their being to reach misplaced passes, overhit layoff, and shoot shots over the bar or into Frankfurt’s bodies packing the box. Honestly, it was beautiful to see, as beautiful as watching a blazing inferno burning your valuable collectible Messi shirts.

Second Half Renaissance

Only four games into their renovated stadium, it would not be a great look for the Blaugrana to lose an unbeaten run before it properly became one.

And Frankfurt began that second half in frantic fashion, launching two quick counters that caused Barcelona some issues. The first attack caused Kounde some issues, but Joan Garcia stopped the stinging shot from Brown. Knauf then fired wide after a goalmouth melee in Barcelona’s penalty box. Knauff again forced Joan Garcia into a brilliant save as the visiting German side took the Blaugrana outfit by the scruff of their necks and bullied them around. It wasn’t a good three or four minutes into the second half.

Nerves of the Blaugrana faithful were frayed, their fear stank to the heavens, and a moment of inspiration was needed, or else a bitter taste would be the flavor of the week for Barca fans.

At this point, English international Rashford had come on in place of the ineffective Fermin Lopez. This change shifted Raphinha from the left to the number 10, which proved to be a masterstroke.

On Barca’s best attack of the game, Rashford raced into the penalty box to receive Pedri’s reverse pass from the left and tried to find Raphinha, but Raphinha had too many white shirts in front of him that blocked an almost certain goal-bound shot. But this was just a harbinger of what Rashy had in store.

In the 50th minute, the England international received the ball down the left, shifted it to his favored right foot, and floated in one of those hard-to-defend, devastating inswingers. The ball caused issues in the Frankfurt box, leaving the onrushing Kounde free to head home for 1-1.

But this is Flickball, of course. Immediately after the restart, Frankfurt were on the attack and almost equalized, and Barcelona were only saved by an offside call.

Barcelona piled on the pressure, with Balde and Pedri combining for a chance in the 51st minute as the home side sought to wrestle the initiative from the visitors, who were gaining confidence with each passing minute, buoyed on by a boisterous traveling crowd.

But it was the improving Barcelona that would grab that elusive second when Pedri laid off a corner to Lamine Yamal on the left. The Barca prodigy swung an outswinger into the penalty box that Kounde rose highest to head into the far post. 2-1 Barcelona!

After that, the Blues and Reds of Catalonia were all over the Frankfurt team like a nasty infection, playing with a knife’s edge that was blunt in that tepid first half.

Barca overloaded Frankfurt’s central defensive line with bodies and Lewy latched onto a long ball from Joan Garcia, raced into open space in front of him with Rashford and Raphinha either side of him. Lewy laide the ball off for Rashford but the assertive Theate was there to block his shot. Theate seeemed to be playing with vengeance. He was everywhere because shortly before blocking Rashy’s shot, he had missed a shot on the other end. Talk about having an engine! That V12 inside his lungs must have been screaming.

Rashy continued his excellent cameo, as Pedri and Yamal continued having a quiet, nondescript games by their mercurial standards. Eric Garcia continued his unassuming domination in defensive midfield, while Gerrard Martin continued being useful and competent at centre back.

Lewy had an unremarkable game and was replaced by Ferran Torres, while Frenkie de Jong came on for the impressive Raphinha in the 65th minute.

Ferran had a chance to slot home a third in the 68th minute when he received a brilliant pass into the box from Pedri, but Torres fired just wide of the far post.

On the other end, Cubarsi was forced into an excellent tackle on Brown, denying the Frankfurt left back what would have been a certain 1 vs 1 with Joan Garcia.

From then on, it became a game of controlled chaos, as Barca tried to hold on to the ball and create something, while Frankfurt, perhaps all too aware of their defensive frailties this season, sat in a solid block and tried to keep Barcelona from getting too comfortable inside their penalty box.

The win pushes Barcelona to 10 points, up to 14th in the Champions League table, while Frankfurt slides down to 30th and looks increasingly likely to go out.

This was a match that, on paper, would have given Barcelona a chance to ‘statpad’ and improve on that goal difference, which is made to look bad due to the insane number of goals conceded. Instead, they made Frankfurt look like prime 2003/04 Chelsea and needed to be bailed out by a brace from their right back.

But such is the epitome of Flickball - exhilarating and almost nigh unplayable when the underdogs, but stale and predictable when under the spotlight. This is a team that defies explanation. The only thing to do, then, is the most sensible one - Just enjoy it, because when it frustrates, oh dear, it makes sure it stinks to the heavens, but when it excites, it’s a rush incomparable to any psychedelics.