Barça had everything, Madrid had nothing.
In the game that graduated Gavi, Xavi uncorked his first title as a Barça coach.
And he did it like Xavi as a player, with the Barça midfielders rhyming that rhyming, pampering the ball.
Impossible for a Real without a deposit, wounded from the beginning, hollow.
A Madrid that did not even splash against a very balanced adversary.
With four midfielders, Barça did not uncover.
With four midfielders, Barça governed without dressing up with the ball.
Ancelotti's team lacked everything, timid from start to finish.
So unnatural and tiring that Ceballos and Valverde were in charge of the final stretch as anchors, Modric dry, Tchouameni absent and Toni Kroos surpassed.
The migrant Spanish Super Cup belonged to Gavi, a symptom of the best Barça.
From Barça de Busquets, from De Jong, from Pedri.
A more consistent team
buttoned in an area by Lewandowski, who flirts and flirts with the goal, and well sheltered by Araujo and Christensen.
This time, a playful Barça with bad luck.
The ball at the foot to punish the rival, not as a fan.
Courtois, Dani Carvajal (Nacho, min. 72), Rüdiger, Ferland Mendy, Eder Militao, Modric (Dani Ceballos, min. 65), Kroos (Marco Asensio, min. 71), Camavinga (Rodrygo, min. 45), Federico Valverde, Benzema and Vinicius Junior
Ter Stegen, Ronald Araújo (Eric Garcia, min. 86), Alex Balde, A. Christensen, Koundé, Busquets, Pedri (Sergi Roberto, min. 89), Gavi (Ansu Fati, min. 89), Frenkie De Jong (Kessié Franck, min. 86), Ousmane Dembélé (Raphinha, min. 78) and Lewandowski
Ricardo de Burgos Bengoetxea
Yellow cards Ferland Mendy (min. 31), A. Christensen (min. 48), Ronald Araújo (min. 68) and Federico Valverde (min. 81)
An 18-year-old cadet, Gavi, appeared in Saudi Arabia, and Madrid, as scruffy as it was dilapidated, went to hell.
He proposed Barça, not a word said Real, contemplative, toothless.
The opposite of Gavi, for whom the traditional Barca formality was not enough, the touch for the touch.
First, before a swipe from Busquets to Camavinga after a bad pass from Rüdiger, the youthful Sevillian sealed Lewandowski's assist wonderfully.
Satisfied, Gavi, after a loss by Carvajal, thanked De Jong for an assist to summon Lewandowski, who is as intimate as few before the goal.
A fair prize for the most tuned-in team, for the most plugged-in team.
Xavi wanted Barça to organize with a single winger —Dembélé— and Koundé of Araujo's broom truck —Vinicius bailiff— and Christensen.
De Jong, as a partner of Busquets, and Gavi and Pedri as floating midfielders.
In front, a withered Madrid, without offensive hook, little atomic in the rear.
Without crushes from Modric and Kroos, with Camavinga without features.
At Barca's 0-2, it turns out that no Real Madrid player had left more footprints than Mendy.
Bad business for whites.
In the first act, limited to a header from Benzema to the center, of course, from Mendy.
Before, a shot at Lewandowski had already gone by a phalanx.
The Pole repeated with a dry, bloody shot that Courtois deflected, with arms like oars, to his right post.
Barça played, Madrid passed by for a picnic, with Rüdiger from tremble to tremble.
Camavinga paid for it,
He just didn't fit into the team.
Ancelotti pointed to the break and ordered the entry of Rodrygo.
By then, the game was Gavi's, always a boar, precise this time, scorer and messenger.
At Real, so wounded at the back and stiff at the front, no one received with joy, Vinicius subdued by Araujo and Benzema out of place, a stranger to his own.
Nothing changed after the truce.
The same Barça, the same Madrid.
Hit it, with De Jong and Busquets at the helm, with fine Pedri and Gavi in all of them, here and there.
In case there were doubts, that with the worst Madrid ahead they are also inevitable, Gavi, of course, made Ceballos pay for his nonsense in a pass that would deserve a cate in any academy.
The pass from him to Militão was a crash.
Gavi met with Pedri, and the canary sent Real to hell, despite the fact that Courtois was Courtois on a couple of occasions.
In ruins, Ancelotti withdrew his Praetorians and unit B said as little as the main one.
Barça, much more stable, toasted a Super Cup against an opponent who, rare for him, barely competed, even though Benzema somewhat concealed the result with 1-3.
The title was already from Barça, from Gavi's Barça, from Xavi's Barça.
A first-time throne for many azulgrana.
A mirror for a team that this time knew what football is about, what it is going to have the ball and what it is about when you don't have it.
Perhaps a turning point for a Barça that gave its classic rival a bath.
Reflection time for Madrid, which Arabia has felt sorry for.
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