Fear and Loathing in Catalonia

Rarely in sport can such beauty and ugliness be set to collide. Romance and resentment, lust and loathing will all merge here tonight when the Champions League takes a deep gulp and prepares to take on football's most enduring rivalry.

It has been 41 years since Barcelona and Real Madrid, bastions of mutual antipathy, last traded blows in the European Cup. When they collide at the Nou Camp this evening, in a semi-final first leg simmering with countless sub-plots, the country will come to a virtual standstill. There will be a television in every shop, bar and restaurant. Business leaders estimate the droves of people taking time off work could cost the nation hundreds of thousands of pounds.

Fueled by an unashamedly trouble-making press, the mud-slinging and ill-feeling has been building steadily over the past few weeks, culminating yesterday in some extraordinary tit-for-tat when Real, having called their news conference for 4pm, discovered Barca had subsequently announced theirs for 1.15pm. Sending a message to Uefa that they "would not be second to Barcelona", the eight-time European champions immediately rearranged theirs to take place simultaneously.

That it is St Jordi's Day, commemorating the patron saint of Catalonia (better known here as St George, also patron saint of England), merely adds another devilish twist. Great swaths of the population here lived under Franco's regime in the times when the Catalan language was suppressed and Barcelona became, in effect, an empire in opposition.

Vicente del Bosque, Real's coach, and Carles Rexach, his Barcelona counterpart, have been careful not to say any thing to inflame the situation, but this is clearly far more than just a football match. As Rexach said: "For the people of Catalonia, what could be bigger? We could play Manchester United or Bayer Leverkusen in the final, but it would not be as important as this game."

It is a loathing that borders on hysteria, and the magnitude of the occasion could bring out the worst in Barcelona's fanatical support: among the objects hurled at Real players when they visited in the league last month was a bicycle chain and the severed head of a cockerel.

When Luis Figo returned for the first time after his £37m defection to Madrid hundreds of fans decamped to the city's airport to afford him the most venomous welcome imaginable. When the player once feted as Catalonia's favorite son stepped on to the pitch, clad in enemy white, the cacophony created by 100,000 vengeful supporters created an experience he will never forget.

It was a din that drained the blood from Figo's face, a match played to the constant backdrop of vitriolic whistles and spiteful insults when he could clearly be seen looking up at the stadium's clock, as if wondering when he would finally be given a reprieve. Every time he strayed towards the touchline a bombardment of stones, bottles, fruit and coins rained down. On one occasion he went to take a corner and a mobile telephone flew past his ear.

When Figo was booked against Bayern Munich in the quarter-final second leg, ruling him out of another reunion with his old employers, there were accusations that it was an act of cowardice.

Barcelona, meanwhile, have significant injury problems, with Rivaldo likely to be the most notable absentee from a tie that, for all the bad feeling, should be one of the great football occasions.

St Jordi's Day is traditionally a time when the men of Barcelona give their loved ones red roses. Yet for true romance in this enchanting old city, there will be only one place to be.

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