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Down To The Wire

by Phil Ball

I don't think Harold Wilson said it, but a week is a long time in football. Or perhaps more pertinently, what a difference a day makes.

The sun was shining all day in San Sebastian and the folks were warming up nicely on the beach for the evening's events. Nine thousand of them had even travelled west to the wilds of Vigo, in a ten-hour drive by car, to see whether Real Sociedad could win their first title for 20 years.

But by the end of the evening, in the bar where I watched them go down 3-2 to Celta, the folks trooped out to the strains of Haydn's funeral march, the very presence of the tape in the bar a symbol of the pessimistic strain that runs through the Basques, mindful as they are of the difficulties involved in winning the league title here, even after such a splendid campaign.

Celta, of course, secured a place in the Champions League for the first time in their history after a rather iffy campaign, but in recent seasons they have always been there or thereabouts. For sheer persistence they deserve it.

But it's not all over yet. Real Madrid's unexpected and impressive win at Atlético has not spared them of the need to win their final game, at home to Athletic Bilbao, of all teams.

This is the great thing about the Spanish league, when all is said and done. The fact that Real Sociedad will now depend on their Basque cousins - with whom they have had a fairly stormy relationship in the past few years - means that the show goes on until the bitter end.

For the week to come the talk in the Basque Country will inevitably centre on whether or not Bilbao will try to do Sociedad a favour by playing it straight in the Bernabéu, whilst Sociedad themselves despatch a demoralised Atlético Madrid in San Sebastían.

The further beauty of it is that Barcelona's 3-1 win at Valencia means that they can still make it to the UEFA Cup with victory next Sunday, but only if Bilbao draw or lose in Madrid. Bilbao must win to be sure of the final place, although a draw could still present their fellow Basques with the league title.

At the end of the day, as they say, blood is thicker than water. Despite the more hostile rivalry that has grown up between the two clubs in recent years, Bilbao would be more than happy to poop Madrid's party, get themselves into Europe and hand Sociedad the title. June 22nd promises to be a humungous footballing day over here.

Things are suddenly looking up for Barcelona too after a curious season in which their distinguished performance in the Champions League was accompanied by mundane stuff in the league and all sorts of jiggery-pokery at boardroom level, culminating this weekend in the election of youngish lawyer Joan Laporta.

Laporta first came to prominence in Barça circles when he founded the 'Blue Elephant' group in protest at Johann Cruyff's sacking. Now he's the top man, and apparently on the verge of bringing Beckham to the Camp Nou.

Having come to an agreement with Manchester United, the sticking point would appear to be the desire of ambassador Becks as to his final destination. Real Madrid's 'Never, never, never' statement some months back has now been revealed as the smokescreen one always suspected it was, and Florentino Pérez has put a concrete offer on the table.

Fourteen million quid doesn't sound too bad, and it's hardly a problem for the player himself, but not the sort of cash with which United plc had already been talking up their stocks. Mind you - whoever bought a second-hand car for the price that was in the paper? It doesn't take a genius to see that Madrid's offer is the start of a bargaining process where the seller wants 25 and the buyer is clearly prepared to pay 20 - but starts the bidding at 14, just to play the game for a while longer.

Madrid know that United want to liquidate their chief asset as soon as possible, before the long shadow of Bosman begins to loom over proceedings, but they might have to further reduce their claim to 60% of the player's image rights if they are really to win the day.

Whatever, all this 'will he won't he' palaver must be beginning to tire even the most avid tabloid reader, and the truth is that the British press have failed miserably to write about the most crucial single factor in the whole issue - namely what the Beckham family would actually prefer.

This is because both the tabloids and the quality press do not really understand the difference between the two cities (with due respect to Milan) competing for his signature.

The choice between Barcelona and Madrid is a cultural choice, and one that the Beckhams, for all that they may appear to be Marbella types, have obviously been considering.

We're not talking Gascoigne here, who set up a corner of a foreign field that was forever Newcastle in his hillside villa in Rome, nor Ian Rush who said of playing in Italy that it was 'like being in a foreign country'.

Gary Lineker triumphed at Barcelona not because he was a better player than Mark Hughes but because he went for different reasons. Clearly interested in and open to the culture, he took what he needed for his own development as a person and player, and whether you like his present media persona or not, he's proved that footballers can be normal functioning people.

Beckham, for all his apparent innocence, seems to have come round to the idea that going and living abroad might actually be quite interesting, for him, the missus and the kids. He's coped with the circus so far, and in many ways the Spanish are more respectful of famous folks' personal space than many other Europeans.

Barcelona is a trendy, cool and innovative place, but with a complex bicultural streak that makes it difficult to understand at street level, despite its arty scene and its frenzied, creative atmosphere.

The Beckhams might not fit into this so easily. They're glam and they're elegant, but they're not cool. And the Catalans like their heroes to be political creatures, like Cruyff and Guardiola.

Nope - much too fraught with problems. Joan Laporta may think he has secured his man, but Beckham as a footballer is not the type to single-handedly pull the Catalans out of the doldrums. Beckham is a team man, a useful and occasionally brilliant part of the unit, but you cannot expect him to start the revolution. Laporta may have made a big mistake, even though his election has the Englishman's presence written all over it.

In Madrid, the family will find that the city, although it looks more gloomy and patriarchal at first sight, is actually much more cosmopolitan and friendly at street level. The Madrileños have no side to them. What you see you get, and you don't have to be particularly cool to fit in. And on the pitch they make that fairly clear.

If Beckham mucks in, keeps his head down and works for the cause, they'll take to him and buy his shirt by the millions. He'll also improve as a player, which would be useful to England's cause as well.

The argument that he would spend too much time on the bench is irrelevant. McManaman has also warmed the wood, but is a much better player for spending five days a week training with several of the world's best players. Beckham can't lose.

It only remains for Manchester United to drop their price to 20 million and ignore the offer of Geremi, or try to get Makelele in exchange - with an obvious adjustment to the final fee for Beckham. They know it makes sense.