Que te vaya bien, Frank

By: Isaiah | May 13th, 2008

I’m not generally one for too much sentiment when it comes to sports. I bid players and coaches farewell about as emotionally as I do laundry, but somehow this is different. Franklin Edmundo Rijkaard will certainly be missed around these parts, despite the on-again-off-again relationship most of us have had with him over the last two years.

Let’s look beyond the recent “turmoil,” beyond the tabloid headlines decrying this or that folly, and let’s look at the good that Frank Rijkaard has done for this club. Two La Liga titles, a Champions League title, and 2 Spanish SuperCups in the span of 5 years, along with 2 runner ups and a 3rd place finish in the league, and a Champions League semifinal appearance to boot. Then there’s the final of the FIFA Club World Cup in Japan and a Copa Catalunya title last year (though I don’t know if Frankie can take credit for that one).

The first year he took over, 2003, Frank turned a team that was mired in self-loathing into a team that raced to the top of the table, finishing 5 points out of first and beating out both a strong Depor side and a “woeful” Real Madrid squad by a point and two points, respectively. I remember watching that meteoric rise during the second half of the season and just being glad that Barcelona was playing beautifully. Joan Laporta took a risk on a green coach and it turned up roses, bringing about the dawning of a new golden era, what was thought to be the next Dream Team.

And for about a year, the combination of Ronaldinho, Deco, and Eto’o up front was a dream team; add in Messi and you had a seemingly unstoppable force that won all in its path, despite several injuries to key players (Messi in the CL) and using fading role players a la the San Antonio Spurs (Belletti, Larsson, Giuly, van Bronckhorst) rather than a team of superstars like counterparts Real Madrid.*

And then thing began to dissolve, the joy began to ebb, and the Barcelona fans, fattened on the grandeur of being the greatest, flashiest, most successful club in Europe, began to moan and groan about not winning championships every year, not making it back to the CL final, not beating Real Madrid by a 100 goals in both Clasicos…And the locker room began to grow its own sets of egos as Ronaldinho became the world’s darling, the greatest football in a generation; Eto’o began to flaunt the ego everyone knew he’d had all along; and Rijkaard began to flounder in a sea of similar tactics. As the tension mounted in the board room, where predictions of 6 trophies were ladled out along with countless other promises (reminiscent of Laporta’s promise to bring David Beckham in after he was elected), things began to turn against the team and coach that had brought so much success by being left to their own devices.

With a single second-place finish in the league, tied on points and better in goal differential, the board decided enough was enough, the rot must be all the way through, and in came reinforcements galore. Out were all the key role players, replaced by superstars (Zambrotta, Henry, Abidal). And then the expectations were raised even higher. Nothing short of a Champions League trophy and the league title would be acceptable this time around. And so the 07/08 year unfolded with pressure, injuries, and heartbreak as a team, destined to recapture the lofty heights of 05/06, fell to its own internal issues, issues created by meddling from above.

And through all this sat Frank, watching, coping, looking around every now and then and noting that all was not well. The tactics mirrored those from before, but the players were different, that attitudes and desires were different. And the media began to rev up its anti-Frank horns, blaring out story after story about incompetence, about Mourinho this, Lippi that, yet there was Frank, as studious and intelligent as always. Frank, ever so immobile in his tactics and posture, always willing to take the lumps with nothing less than a well-articulated response. Yet that will never be enough for a board room looking to alleviate pressure on itself, to deflect criticism to anyone and anything else. Galacticoism reached Barcelona and its tide left Frank Rijkaard with nowhere to go but out.

Frank was never perfect and neither were his tactics. He was seemingly incapable of changing his plans to match the available parts and when that was discovered, the gig was up, time had run out on him. Everyone but Laporta seemed to recognize that bringing in a name like Thierry Henry — a name with weight, with expectations saddled ot it — meant tactical disaster. It meant reinventing the team, shifting key players to unfamiliar positions, or risking bruised egos and bitter feelings within the locker room. And what transpired was all of the above. And now we are at the end of an era, where Ronnie, Deco, and Eto’o are all looking to get out of Dodge. Frank Rijkaard was never a Wyatt Earp, a gunslinger looking to knock players down to size, but he was always a mentor, always willing to teach the youngsters how to play the game he knew how to play. And that he did, teaching Iniesta, Messi, and Bojan extremely well. Tack on Gio Dos Santos and you’ve got another potential superstar who has earned his stripes under Rijkaard’s toutalege.

Yet there were also the mistakes that we all rolled our eyes at. The reliance on Oleguer was infuriating, to say the least, especially with a bankroll capable of sustaining a good prospect rather than an aging train-wreck.** Ezquerro, Maxi Lopez, Thiago Motta, Edmilson — all were the wrong move, yet there they were each summer, training with the rest of the squad. Is that Rijkaard or is that the board? Those are the mysteries, of course, but for some reason I read this as Rijkaard’s doing rather than the board’s. Same as I read Henry’s arrival and inclusion as board-dictated (for jersey-sale reasons). No real proof, just a feeling based on where they were played and when.

In the end, it was either time for Rijkaard or Laporta to go, but as Laporta would never voluntarily leave his post early, it had to be Frankie. So it’s goodbye to the red-eyed softie and hello to a new dawn named Pep Guardiola. I personally will miss Rijkaard in some capacity, even if Guardiola lets the cannons loose and we return to the top of the footballing world. I blame Laporta for this last year of frustration, of wanting to see my team fly high not because I want titles, but because I want to see stunning, flowing soccer with a goal at the end. Though of course I want titles — I just know that reasonably I can’t expect one every year.

I will always be indebeted to Frank for the Champions League and the two league title and hopefully, at the end of the next era, we’ll all look back at this time and think about how wonderful it really was to have such great players playing such great football.

*It is perhaps interesting, perhaps dismaying, to think that Gio van Bronckhorst was only garnered as a player thanks to the loss of Cesc Fabregas rather than as a truly astute move by the board or coaching staff. Still, when you have to cut your losses, you might as well get something solid in return for what could be one of the best midfielders in history (depending on how he continues to develop) and a Champions League crown and two league titles can’t be considered a mistake…can it?

**I, unlike most commentors in the post-Mallorca comments, thought Oleguer was good in the few minutes he was on the field. He was hard-nosed and willing to stick the boot in, exactly what Zambrotta has been lambasted for not doing. It was the best I’d seen Oleguer play in at least 2 years, if not ever.