Eamon Dunphy summed it up perfectly on Wednesday night – and accidentally.
“Diego Godin,” he said. “We don’t have any highlights of him but this guy is a good player.”
The RTÉ post-match analysis of Atletico Madrid’s 2-0 victory over Barcelona was fixated on the spirit of Diego Simeone’s side. Dunphy marvelled at their street-fighting qualities. Their heart, their bullishness, their ability to drag the great Barcelona down to their level was considered genius. It was genius.
But it was the most unapologetic and most ironic piece of role reversal probably since the last live game on RTÉ.
Eamon Dunphy – Martin O’Neill’s biggest detractor, Giovanni Trapattoni’s arch nemesis, Jack Charlton’s only critic – was thrilled to see a good team abandon the flair and creativity they had in them so they could grind their way through this knockout tie by whatever means necessary.
Liam Brady – Trap’s former colleague and loyal sympathiser – was disgusted that a ‘cynical and negative’ team like Atletico could emerge over a team like Barca.
Johnny Giles stepped in as the voice of reason. To beat a team like Barcelona, he argued, you have to do something different.
What was the alternative? Take them on? Open up? Try to beat Barcelona at their own game? They might as well have just bent over and rolled out of the Champions League.
So Diego Simeone did what any good manager would do and he used the tools at his disposal to fight their battle their way. He used the pace and energy of Antoine Griezmann where it could be used best, stretched and on the break – where it could exploit Mascherano. He used the relentless tenacity of Gabi and the willingness of Koke to throw themselves all over the Vicente Calderón – anywhere they could nullify Iniesta et al.
And he used men like Diego Godin. His foot soldiers. His warriors. Men who’d re-enact the manager’s vision on the pitch to the bloody letter even if it meant coming within an inch of their lives.
You don’t find that sort of trust just lying around. You don’t find leadership like that ready and available. You don’t find men like Diego Godin very often in this lifetime.
There was a moment just after Griezmann put away that late penalty in the second leg quarter-final clash that really summed up the Simeone era at Atletico Madrid. Even if Barca, the champions, had scored, the hosts were guaranteed the safety net of extra time and they were just minutes from the unthinkable anyway – beating the unbeatable.
The manager – orchestrating every bit of movement from his technical area of 11 men who never once stepped a foot out of place over 90 minutes – began roaring. He pumped his hands to the Madrid sky, he pumped them harder and he demanded the supporters to rise off their feet and rouse his troops home. Diego Godin caught a glimpse of his boss. He turned and looked at the four corners of this proud stadium and did the same. He rose his arms to the air, he rally-cried 50,000 Atletico fans to join them in their final moments of battle.
It was almost like Simeone was there doing it himself but, in that moment, you could see it: you could see a group of honest footballers quite literally acting out the manager’s instructions. Because they trusted him.
You could see Diego Godin leading the pack. Led by his manager.
And over the course of what was a perfect execution of instructions and discipline, it was Diego Godin there putting his stamp all over the team – forcing them to come with him, ordering them to follow the manager.
If they followed Godin, they followed the manager. If they followed Godin, they followed the Atletico Madrid way.
Here they were, the deadliest attack – arguably of all time – and they couldn’t see past him – not even for a second. Messi, Suarez and Neymar all lined up, they took their turn and time and again Diego Godin was there to give them the sort of short shrift that’d put you off playing football.
Luis Suarez got fed up with him, he threw an elbow in his eye – countryman or not.
Neymar couldn’t move two feet without Godin hounding him down – he ended up kicking out at him.
https://twitter.com/TeamFoot_/status/720346489612926976
Godin stood up, applauded, rallied the troops. Next ball.
Lionel Messi? Jesus, the man who has earned whatever place he damn well likes in this game shrunk and took a humble backseat at the Calderón. It was a lost cause. Most things are with Godin patrolling the line.
He roared and he screamed, he dragged the rest of them back into position – sometimes physically – to ensure that the greatest player in the world didn’t touch the ball in the Atletico box. In Diego Godin’s box.
Great play by #AthleticoMadrid #AthletiBarca. Didn't allow Messi to touch the ball in their penalty area! pic.twitter.com/uvpsq0cenn
— Amit Gupta (@guaamit) April 14, 2016
When it was needed, he lifted the siege himself. He carried the ball away, he took the piss down the right hand side. Sometimes, you see a player who is committed so wholly to a game of football that you know there and then it is all he cares about in his world in that moment.
Diego Godin had one of those nights on Wednesday and it was magical. He had one of those nights and it was inspiring. He forced 10 other Atletico players into the same all-action mode. He forced them into the game of their lives.
And it was nothing particularly special, it never is. It was tackles, it was blocks, it was pure, unadulterated balls. If Diego Godin was wimpish enough to wear sleeves, his heart would be smeared all over them.
Because that’s how he plays. Honesty, conviction, courage. He plays the way we’d all promise to play if we were given half a chance.
He plays the way his manager wants him to play. To the letter.
On Wednesday night, Atletico Madrid, Diego Simeone and Diego Godin just made what they try to call negative football seem wonderful. They beat the most beautiful team in the world convincingly and brilliantly.
They beat the most beautiful team in the world. And they did it beautifully.
