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Champion's League Final Preview, or This is Not My Beautiful Wife
Here is a most unlikely matchup between The Team That Always Seems To Be There (AC Milan), and The Team That Has No Business Being There (Liverpool). Does anyone think Liverpool are the best team in Europe, or even in their own city? They came in fifth in their own league! They are regularly terrible! Their presence in this game almost discredits the Champion's League, while at the same time restoring God's mind to its proper inscrutability. Strange and mysterious ways, indeed.
Milan are nothing less than a High Council of all-time greats and prodigies, while Liverpool are a jailbreak of wannabes, cannon fodder and diamonds-in-the-rough. Most of them are holdovers from deposed manager Gerrard Houllier, and the fact that the new boss, Rafael Benitez, has ham-and-egged them this close to history marks him out as the smartest guy in the room. Liverpool's history is as storied as Milan's, but they haven't come in higher than third in over a decade.
Liverpool staggered past the Chosen Ones of Juventus and Chelsea to get here, while Milan pancaked the likes of Manchester and Inter, before gasping across the line against PSV Eindhoven. On paper, this is an absolute blowout, but football, as we know, isn't played on paper, it's played on a field: a place of human weakness and irony, of dashed expectations. Milan possess the best defense in Europe. They know that Liverpool are on the brink of the greatest Cinderella story in this competition's history. Their owner, Silvio Berlusconi, is Italy's Prime Minister. He'll demand some pumpkin-bashing.
Likely Combatants
Liverpool
Jerzy Dudek, goalkeeper: This mistake-prone Poland international probably can't believe he's starting in this match after committing an uncountable number of gaffes in his career. Possesses what must be the world's longest blooper reel. Hyperbole aside-and none of this is hyperbole-is there a goalie even half this bad at any other major team in Europe? On the brink of total glory, the world's most prestigious club trophy within his porous grasp. The idea of Dudek in the Champion's League final is as biologically improbable as the platypus. I guess it gives hope to all the clumsy people out there: you too, could win the Champion's League!
Steve Finnan, right back: Matt Damon lookalike hasn't quite lived up to his billing as an up-and-coming wing back since arriving from Fulham. Just so you know, I'm going to call most of Liverpool's players underachievers, and theirs is the single greatest feat of overachievement in the history of underachievement. This Ireland international should uphold that most English of virtues by running like mad and kicking anyone who gets near him, because courage is all he really has to contribute at this level. Milan don't play with wingers, so expect him to tuck into the middle, and launch approximately three raids up the touchline. Will start the day lined up against Maldini. All of us have done it in our dreams.
Jamie Carragher, center half: Erstwhile donkey right back and Scouse native whose transformation into a center half has been awesome to behold, and he's unquestionably his team's most important player. Calm, implacable, intelligent, brave, almost perfect, and hard to picture at dinner with Peter Kenyon. His will has carried Liverpool to the brink, and he beat Chelsea almost by himself. Faces the greatest test of his career against Shevchenko, but then, Shevchenko faces a big test with Carragher. A throwback to the days of Great Men, if those ever even existed, and Liverpool will need another Iliad from him to finish climbing Mount Olympus.
Sammi Hyppia, center half: Tall, strong, not-so-fast-Finland international has been the mainstay of the Liverpool defense since Gerard Houllier brought him in, and is probably Houllier's most successful purchase. Will be hoping that his team scores first, so his midfield can screen him and keep him from having to chase Crespo and Shechenko around. The last man on Earth you'd expect to blow it. A character guy, a leader, and the captain of the team until management panderingly handed the job the Steven Gerrard.
Djimi Traore, defender: This all-purpose defensive octopus was considered one of Houllier's biggest failures, but Benitez is restoring him and limiting his own goals and treasonous positioning. Now it is possible to see all the qualities Houllier admired him for: the agility, quickness, speed and height. He no longer looks like a klutz who gets flogged to Aston Villa; he looks a like a utility guy with a European Cup.
Igor Biscan, defensive midfielder: Even more of a salvage job than Traore, when you consider how much bile has been heaped on this gloomy Croat. Will never achieve the heights once expected of him, but he now does a solid job of getting between attackers and the ball. He's also very tall. This is a tall team. Platoons with Dietmar Hamann, and shows slightly more impetus going forward, by which I mean he sometimes almost touches the center circle.
John Arne Riise, left back or midfield: One of the few Liverpool players good enough to feature for Milan. Made a huge impression in his first years under Houllier, but his game had disappeared until this season, and, under Benitez, he is happily recovering. Could yet be considered an all-time hero by the Kop. Has a better left foot than Roberto Carlos, and can win a game from distance with his shot, or deliver a supply of choice passes to his frontmen. The way Milan defend, he may have to.
Dietmar Hamann, defensive midfielder: This student of the dark arts of midfield may not be much to look at, but his willingness to guard his defenders and eschew more glamorous upfield action will be needed with the likes of Kaka and Shevchenko on the pitch. Steven Gerrard has always had the freedom to joyride around while this guy backs him up. Scored the last ever goal at the old Wembley Stadium, with a quickly-taken free-kick that caught David Seaman out of position. One of the few remaining Germans to still ply his trade outside his country, and I suppose you could say that he excels at football's more Teutonic virtues. One of which is winning.
Steven Gerrard, midfielder: Has yet to decide if he's going to be the next John Lennon, or the next Pete Best. Massively gifted, totally misunderstood, and hilariously overrated. Talented enough to win a game completely on his own, and dumb enough to lose it. A midfielder's job is to find the right positions, and control the flow of play with his tackling and passing, but Gerrard buccaneers all over the place, takes on crowds of players, and fires off shots that amaze with their precision and power, or else with their stupidity. Stubbornly impossible to coach, which is why, at twenty-six, he still has no idea what to do or where to go. Did I mention how brilliant he can be? How else could he get by with his ignorance of tactics? Too much of a flake to be a captain or a leader, and a frippery on a team where everyone else does their job, but if he can make Andrea Pirlo play the ball backwards, Liverpool will win. Finally surrendered the task of taking penalties after sending many -effortsî toward the mezzanine. Is always about to leave for some bigger, supposedly better club-including Milan-and Benitez must half-hope he does, so the bloated transfer fee could spent on players who listen. Watch for the cynics of Milan to let him run, and run, and run, and run; note that Benitez plays two other central midfielders-Biscan/Hamann and Alonso-who both do Gerrard's job while he zooms around the pitch and searches for himself, like Forrest Gump.
Xabi Alonso: It's incredible that he's only 23. Liverpool's true child phenom. Single-handedly kept his first team, Real Sociedad, of Bilbao, from the drop when he was 19 years old. Drifts through crowds, plays neat one-twos, and sprays the ball around with a pristine economy of touches, one pass short, the next one long, until the other team is spinning and helpless. Watching Milan come to grips with his game will be fascinating. How can someone who hardly runs exhaust the other team as much as he does? Think of him as Juan Veron, but good. A true connoisseur's player, he has yet to mesh with Gerrard, because Gerrard doesn't know if he plays in front of Alonso, or behind him. Benitez keeps reminding him, but Gerrard can't hear, because The Spice Girls are cranked on his IPOD. New fans of Liverpool should forget about Gerrard and buy a shirt with Xabi's name on it.
Luis Garcia, midfield: Skinny and seemingly harmless, but his uniquely continental knack for scoring big goals without support and against the run of play are a big reason why Liverpool have made it this far. Can poach or blast a shot from distance, and Milan would be foolish to let him slip away from their defense. Quietly wriggles between the frontline and the midfield, vanishes into space, and re-appears with the winner. You really cannot overestimate just how much of an asset his wimpy exterior is. Bungled home the winner against Chelsea, hit an absolute rocket against Juventus, and reduced both watertight defenses to a keystone cops routine. Perfectly suited to European football, where the winners are often cautious, and exploitive of mistakes. If he can keep Cafu from marauding up the wing, Milan may be in trouble.
Harry Kewell, midfielder: In the throes of a six-year slump. Possibly the biggest underachiever in the Premiership today. Acted like the next Ryan Giggs in his first year at Leeds, but his fortunes have declined at Leeds' have, and it's hard to imagine that he'll ever be the player he was. It's also hard to see Benitez keeping him after this year. Meanwhile, here he is, in the Champion's League final, the fabled trophy in his grasp, which aging wingers like Pavel Nedved and Robert Pires may never get to win. I defy you, stars!
Milan Baros, forward: What a strange career he is having. Sat behind Michael Owen and Emile Heskey under Houllier, won the Golden Boot at Euro 2004 for the Czechs, and now plays the headless chicken in Benitez's one-striker lineup. Benitez would love to leave him out for this match, and plans to sell him as soon as possible. It's a You can't quit, I fire you, type-scenario, as Baros has been shopping himself to every team in sight almost since he arrived. Scored exactly two goals since December. Runs with his head down, impressing no one, but he's tougher than he looks, and for all his lack of culture, Chelsea and Juventus dropped dead after chasing him around, and his refusal to play the game the way it should be played unnerves most technical experts.
Djibril Cisse, forward: Arrived from Auxerre of the French league just in time to break his leg and miss almost the whole season. No one knows how good he can be, but he's big, fast, strong and quick, and has the single worst hair and goatee combo of any man on planet Earth. If his will ever matches his physique, he'll overwhelm most defenses Benitez wants to play him over Baros, despite concerns about his health. My dad thinks Cisse's a lazy bum, and he may not be wrong; at a point, he was considered the next Thierry Henry, but now he looks more like Didier Drogba.
Rafael Benitez, manager: What this man has accomplished in his first year at Liverpool is more than an extreme makeover, it's a metaphysical fixer-upper. The objective truth is that he took a team of failures, rejects, underachievers and two or three great players past injury-riddled contenders Juventus and Chelsea, but the truth doesn't tell the whole story, and this is the best job of coaching in the tournament's recent history, better than Mourinho's accomplishment at Porto, because Mourinho didn't have Dudek in the goal. Just wait until Benitez gets the players he wants.
AC Milan
Dida, goalie: This Brazilian doesn't have much to do for AC Milan, what with the defenders in front of him. The best in the business at saving penalties, and Liverpool would be advised to find a winner in regular time. Lost his job to the obscure Marcos in World Cup 2002, which leaves me a bit suspicious of him, but still, on his worst day, he's no Dudek.
Cafu, right back: The best right back of his generation, and, at thirty-fours years of age, he's got enough left in the tank launch Man Utd into a nervous collapse. Played in three consecutive World Cup finals, losing in 1998, and winning in '94 and 2002, when he captained the team, and touched every blade of grass in every game. Vastly experienced and unflappable, though PSV got the best of him in the semi-final. As it is with Cafu, so it is with many of his teammates: one day very soon, he's going to be too old.
Alessandro Nesta, center half: In Brazil, the best athletes are turned into forwards, but in Italy, they make them defenders. Alessandro Nesta is roundly considered to be the best central defender in football. The center-half's job is gruelingly, grindingly, brutish physical, but Nesta glides like a bird through his labors. Elegant, effortless, classy, and less like a man than a wonderful night with a mistress. The Audrey Hepburn of football. Liverpool will hope that their -styleî-so awkward you can hardly call it -footballî-will somehow mesmerize Nesta, or alarm him enough to puke a goal in horror. Don't laugh; it worked against Juventus and Chelsea.
Jaap Stam, center half: Disgraced defender born again at AC Milan. The ugly, brutal partner to Nesta, Stam relies on his overwhelming strength, and the two make a kind of good-cop bad-cop partnership. Lacking subtlety, but, on the other hand, at least he isn't subtle. In truth, Milan's style is so conservative that there are probably many players who could flourish here, but Stam is an eager dirty work guy with something to prove. Didier Deschamps once called him the best defender he ever played against. One of an astonishing seven starters for Milan who has won the Champion's League at least once.
Paolo Maldini, left back: A guy can run out of superlatives pretty fast when he writes about Milan, but Maldini exhausts them all by himself. A true football immortal, an incomparable living legend, and, along with Zidane, the most esteemed active player in the game. Became a regular for Milan when he was sixteen. That was twenty years ago. Switches now between left back and center-half, to preserve his aging legs. If Nesta is Audrey Hepburn, Maldini is Grace Kelly. When he played with Baresi and Rijkaard, they comprised the best defense ever. Liverpool will be asking for his autograph after the game, but they'll also know he's Italian, and uncomfortable chasing a game. If the Scousers score first, even he may end up flustered.
Kahka Kaladze: Strong, flawless left back from the Republic of Georgia, who would start on any team but Milan, where he sits behind Maldini, and only plays when the master is tired, or the opposing player is too quick, but fear not, Kaladze will handcuff anyone near him, drag him out back and pistol-whip him, such is his style. Incredibly, one of two Milan players named -Kaka.î
Genarro Gattuso, defensive midfielder: Short, savage, ill-tempered bully who excels at a midfielder's most important job: disrupting the other team's attack. Built like a brick shithouse, and will use his physique to bludgeon Liverpool into submission. The sheer aggression of his play hides the fact that his positioning and accurate short passing are flawless, and he can also hit a longball. No one remembers him for these things, though; they remember how he takes on the other team by himself, and always kicks their asses.
Andrea Pirlo, midfielder: Plays almost the same game as Liverpool's Xabi Alonso, spreading the ball around, keeping the other team off balance, and like Alonso, he's an unheralded master. Dictates the tempo of the game from within his own half, and this is the player to disrupt if Liverpool expect to get anywhere. Easier said than done. Played further upfield for city rivals Inter Milan, and wasn't terribly distinguished, but moved across town and became a star. His understanding of his teammates is uncanny. You'll never see a more unfussy player, or a bigger nose.
Clarence Seedorf and Cesar Manuel Rui Costa, midfielders: These two aging veterans appeared to have reached the journeyman phase, but Milan have given them a platform for their guile. Both of them know how to dominate a game with positioning and good short passing. Dutch and Portuguese players, which is what these guys are, seem to dominate club football, but their countries always lose in tournaments. Perhaps that's why they're both still hungry. Seedorf is looking to win the Champion's League with his third different team, a stupendous achievement for anyone, especially a guy who never quite fit in anywhere.
Kaka, midfielder: The only true attacking midfielder in Milan's system, but inventive enough the shoulder the load by himself. Superb at unsettling defenses with his passing and running, and he always seems to make the big play. Liverpool will be terrified every time he touches the ball, but if they can control him, they'll have stifled Milan's main connection between the midfield and attack. Will probably star for Brazil in the next World Cup. He picks teams to shreds. Like so many influential continental players, he is frequently anonymous on the pitch before he slips in the knife. How a young and handsome Brazilian could agree to the nickname -Kakaî is simply beyond me.
Hernan Crespo, forward: A true poacher. Specializes in victimizing carelessness, and routinely scores goals from seemingly impossible angles. Failed at Chelsea, and unsuited to the primitive style of the Premiership, like his countryman Juan Veron, but make no mistake, Crespo is a true star of the game, though maybe not leader, and he profits from his partnership with Shevchenko, who does so much of the work. Likely to score the winning goal, though you wouldn't know it from looking at him, with his dumpy curly hair, mangled nose, slouchy shoulders, crappy posture and beer gut. They come in all shapes and sizes, footballers.
Andriy Shevchenko: Fits right in with the all-time greats of Milan: tall, great-looking, and the best at his position. A master of all the aspects of a center forward's craft, he can pass, hold the ball up, run like a cheetah and score every kind of goal. Only Thierry Henry, Ruud Van Nistlerooy and Ronaldo have dominated in this century as he has. So good that Chelsea can't afford him, and not for sale at any price. Because he's from the Ukraine, he'll probably never play in the World Cup, and he'll have to suffice on the Champion's League. This would be his second time at that.
John Dahl Thomason, forward: This Danish beanpole is very happy to make the team. Fills in for Shevchenko and Crespo when they rest, and can scramble home a goal and hold the ball up pretty well, though he failed at Newcastle years ago, and Geordies will be appalled to see him on the verge of European silverware. Newcastle, by the way, are the other awful team to beat Chelsea in a tournament this season. The current generation of Danish players-Thomason, Ebbe Sand, Thomas Gravesen-aren't quite at the level of the Laudrups and Schmeichel. Thomason probably won't play unless the game ends up in extra time.
Fillipo Inzaghi, forward: The most unpopular player in world football. If Nesta is Audrey Hepburn, and Maldini is Grace Kelly, then Inzaghi is Nia Vardolos. Dives and gets caught offside more than all the other forwards in Italy put together, it's a scientific fact. Used to start for Juventus, and it's incredible how many big games he has played in. This is his fifth Champion's League Final. Resembles that socially offensive child your parents made you play with, the one you kept punching in the face, though you knew it was wrong.
Carlo Ancelotti, manager: It's easy to win with these players; he should try doing with Liverpool. Milan play perfect Italian football: they defend, sit back, and kill you on the counter. Learned his football as a player for Milan in the Eighties, at the dawn of the Golden Age that never seems to end. Faces the unappetizing prospect of losing to a team who aren't qualified to be here, a defeat that would go down in history as the worst in the history of the club, and a total corporate failure. He will need all his poise and his players' vast experience to resist the temptation of suicide. How does it feel to plot the death of hope? Ask Ancelotti.
Prediction: When predicting the outcome of a game, one begins by asking which team is better. Here, the obvious answer is AC Milan. Milan are incredible and Liverpool suck. Next, one examines the intangibles, which Liverpool possess in abundance. They have the confidence, the courage and the moral superiority of the underdog. Milan have looked tired and old the last few weeks. And sometimes miracles happen. But not this time. Juventus were injured and distracted, and so were Chelsea. Milan may be exhausted, but they only have one more game to play. It says there they'll win.
Milan 2-0.
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