The two-day preparation period was short, but both teams trained intensively to ensure they were fully ready.
This match was not just about a simple win.
It could very well decide the league title.
Currently, the two teams are separated by only one point.
A victory or defeat could completely shift the league standings.
It was, without a doubt, the focal match of the season.
Barcelona had already lost once to Real Madrid at the Bernabéu, and they were determined to avoid a season sweep. Thus, they were ready to strike back even harder on their home turf.
On the other hand, Real Madrid had been swept by Barcelona the previous season, so they were equally eager to reclaim their pride.
Under such circumstances, the match was bound to be intense.
Barcelona, El Prat Airport — 1:00 PM
"After a one-hour flight, Real Madrid has landed in Barcelona to face off in Round 31 of La Liga, also the second El Clásico of the season!"
"In the last matchup, Real Madrid emerged victorious at home. What kind of performance will they put up this time away?"
"Will Suker continue his stellar form..."
At the airport exit, the players of Real Madrid stepped off the plane amid roaring cheers and surrounded by reporters before boarding their team bus.
As the bus entered Barcelona's city center, Suker immediately felt what it meant to be hated by an entire city.
Since entering the city, several cars had been tailing their bus.
These cars bore Barcelona flags, and some fans even leaned out of the windows making obscene gestures at the bus.
Along the route, many Barça fans did the same—jeering, taunting, and booing as they caught sight of the Real Madrid team bus.
It wasn't until they reached their hotel that these tailing vehicles were forced to stop. From a distance, the fans continued hurling insults and abuse.
Suker got off the bus, backpack slung over his shoulder.
He glanced at the crowd outside the hotel. The Barcelona fans were still yelling insults with excited faces.
Suker was mentally prepared.
After all, as a Real Madrid player, he never expected a warm welcome here.
Just like Messi faced hostility in Madrid.
Now, Suker was the target of pointed jeering from Barcelona supporters.
"Let's go," Casillas patted Suker on the shoulder.
Suker turned and followed him into the hotel.
Led by Ledepp, the team was checked into their rooms. Once again, Suker was assigned a room all to himself.
"Why am I alone again?" Suker complained.
Ramos replied irritably, "Because you're always pulling pranks on teammates. Who'd want to room with you?"
"You seemed to enjoy it last time," Suker grinned.
"Enjoy my ass!" Ramos swore.
The team burst into laughter.
In the end, Suker stayed in his own room.
That didn't mean he'd stay put, though.
After unpacking, he started visiting each room one by one. Soon, the entire floor was filled with startled shouts and laughter from Real Madrid players.
That afternoon, the squad did a light warm-up session.
In the evening, they had an early dinner and went to sleep.
The night wasn't peaceful.
Barcelona fans camped outside the hotel singing loudly, trying to disturb their rest.
Thankfully, the hotel's soundproofing was decent. Though some noise leaked in, it didn't disturb Suker's sleep.
He woke up refreshed the next day.
"Good morning!"
At breakfast, Suker showed up right on time.
Some teammates were still yawning, clearly affected by the noise outside.
Fortunately, most of those were substitutes—the starters had wisely brought earplugs.
After breakfast, Suker went for a pre-match interview.
A Marca reporter asked him about his expectations for the match.
But Suker answered with polite, formulaic responses—no bold predictions, no "jinxing" himself.
Maybe it didn't actually help, but it definitely annoyed opponents.
That afternoon, Real Madrid arrived at the Camp Nou for field inspection.
Everything had been going smoothly up until this point—until the sprinklers suddenly turned on during their walkthrough.
They didn't turn on earlier. Not later. Right now—clearly aimed at irritating Real Madrid.
But the players didn't overreact.
They'd done the same kind of thing before.
During El Clásico, this kind of psychological warfare was expected.
Stifled from doing a proper walkthrough, the players just walked the perimeter of the pitch before heading back to the hotel to wait for kickoff.
The match would begin at 5 PM.
From 1 PM onwards, fans began flocking around Camp Nou.
By 3 PM, the crowd had grown steadily.
By 4 PM, the entire stadium area was packed.
Yet metro trains, buses, and private cars kept delivering even more fans.
El Clásico wasn't just a match—it was a spectacle.
With Suker and Messi both leading their respective teams, fans were even more hyped.
This was one of only two head-to-head showdowns per season.
Miss this, and you'd have to wait months for the next.
At the central plaza, massive crowds had gathered.
Many fans waved red flares under the setting sun, glowing with fiery brilliance.
Their singing created a thunderous atmosphere.
Even the ground seemed to shake.
Suddenly, someone shouted:
"They're here!"
Everyone turned toward the street.
A white bus was approaching the stadium.
In an instant, a deafening wave of jeers erupted.
BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
Jeers pierced the air—mixed with curses and threats.
The scene became chaotic.
Fans surged toward the bus, blocked only by police barriers.
Even so, the threatening atmosphere was palpable.
Soon, Real Madrid players began stepping off the bus.
Each one was met with fierce booing.
But when Suker appeared, the noise reached its peak.
Like a blade slicing through air, sharp and ear-splitting.
Suker glanced at the crowd and mockingly cleaned his ears, then blew on his finger.
Seeing that smug face, the Barcelona fans booed even harder.
Once inside the stadium, the noise dampened a little.
Casillas looked at Suker and said, "There's no need to provoke them."
Suker shrugged, "Even if I don't provoke them, they won't leave me alone."
"Playing here is always a pain," Ramos muttered while stretching his neck.
Suker said nothing but thought to himself—
Of course it was hard before. You guys kept losing.
Before Suker joined, Real Madrid had struggled in Europe and were consistently outplayed by Barcelona in the league.
This season, with a win already under their belt at home, they were desperate to win again.
"All right, gentlemen, time to warm up," Ledepp clapped his hands.
"Don't let the fans' taunts get to you—focus on playing your game. Got it?"
"Got it!" the team replied, heading out in training gear.
Camp Nou, one of the largest stadiums in the world.
Now filled to the brim.
Even whispered conversations created a roar—let alone 100,000 people booing.
And most of it was aimed at Suker.
Every time he touched the ball during warm-up, the crowd erupted with jeers.
Some teammates feared the pressure would get to him.
After all, this wasn't an ordinary game.
But when they looked over at him…
Suker was dancing to the music blaring from the speakers, swaying with the rhythm, completely unfazed by the noise.
While stretching, he observed the stadium.
The towering five-tier stands surrounded the pitch like a fortress of bodies—dark and intimidating from every angle.
And the crowd's constant roar only added to the pressure.
But Suker had never expected to be cheered at Camp Nou.
The moment he joined Real Madrid, he became a villain here.
Especially with his direct rivalry with Messi—this only heightened the animosity.
In a way, the hostility proved something.
They feared him.
"We should head back now," Casillas called him.
He was genuinely worried Suker might provoke the fans again.
Suker was exactly the type to do that.
But Suker wasn't dumb.
Provoking the fans now would only make things worse.
Besides, all the cameras were on him.
Maintaining his image mattered too.
Besides—
Why taunt now when I can do it after I score?
Back in the locker room, Suker was looking for a compression shirt.
"Why do you need that?" Ledepp asked, confused.
It wasn't even cold.
But Suker insisted.
Without a compression shirt, how could he reveal his jersey?
Getting a yellow card just for stripping off his shirt was dumb.
But with an undershirt? Totally worth it.
He'd long planned to celebrate with a jersey reveal at Camp Nou.
Soon after, the teams lined up in the tunnel.
There was no chatting—just focused stares ahead.
Even Casillas and Puyol, teammates on the national team, weren't exchanging words.
The anthem blared.
The players walked out.
ROAAAAAAAAAAAAR!!!
Camp Nou exploded with deafening cheers.
The stadium shook with sheer energy.
"The players have entered the field through the arch!"
"This is the 2009/2010 La Liga Round 31 match — Barcelona hosting Real Madrid!"
"In their last meeting, Barcelona lost away. Now that Xavi has returned, can they take revenge at home?"
"For Real Madrid, can they hold on to their spot at the top of the table?"
"This is a blockbuster clash — one that may determine the league champion!"
"It's also yet another head-to-head showdown between Messi and Suker!"
"Who will shine brighter in this match? Who will lead their team to victory?"
González's commentary was full of passion.
After several standard league rounds, a true heavyweight battle had finally arrived.
Starting Lineups:
Barcelona (4-4-2):Goalkeeper: ValdésDefenders: Maxwell, Piqué, Puyol, AlvesMidfielders: Milito, Busquets, Xavi, KeitaForwards: Messi, Pedro
Real Madrid (4-4-2):Goalkeeper: CasillasDefenders: Arbeloa, Garay, Ramos, MarceloMidfielders: Di María, Diarra, Gago, AlonsoForwards: Benzema, Suker
"It's surprising that Iniesta isn't in the lineup for Barcelona. In the last Champions League match against Arsenal, he looked like he was in pain after a foul. Could it be an injury?"
"Also, Messi is partnered with Pedro up front, while Henry and Ibrahimović are both left on the bench. Is Guardiola trying a new formation?"
Suker looked across at their setup.
With just one glance, he understood.
This was the infamous "False Nine" formation.
Messi and Pedro might appear to be forwards, but they would often drop into midfield, forming a 4-6-0 shape. The heavy midfield rotation allowed for penetrating passing and dominant ball control.
Suker was very familiar with this system.
Back in Serie A, Roma had often used it.
But at that time, Roma had no reliable strikers — Totti had to drop back to link up play, turning the team into a "false nine" collective.
Barcelona's version, however, was far more threatening.
"Not gonna be easy," Suker muttered with a grimace.
Guardiola was indeed a master tactician.
Since Croatia's national team defeated Spain using a high press, more teams had begun copying that strategy.
Barcelona were still winning games, but only Guardiola and his players knew how uncomfortable it was.
There was no doubt — high pressing was the natural counter to tiki-taka.
Barcelona's continued wins had less to do with tactical superiority and more with their ridiculously strong squad and excellent cohesion.
If it were two evenly matched teams, the high press would shred a possession-based system.
Real Madrid still found it tough because of the talent gap.
Barcelona's false nine system wasn't just to disrupt Real Madrid's high press — it also served to neutralize fast counterattacks.
Huuuuh...
Suker slowly exhaled.
No matter what, it was time to face the challenge head-on.
On the other side, Messi also looked serious.
After their last loss, he had taken heavy criticism from the media — both for his poor performance and for losing his temper.
What Messi hated most was being constantly compared to Suker.
But this was the reality now.
Barcelona's main goal this season was still the Champions League, but Real Madrid had stayed right on their heels in the league. To make matters worse, Barça had just been ambushed by Atlético Madrid last round.
Now the pressure was suffocating.
The Champions League semifinalists were: Real Madrid, Barcelona, Inter Milan, and Manchester United.
Barcelona would have to face Manchester United.
And if they won, they'd meet either Real Madrid or Inter in the final.
Neither matchup would be easy.
They were already out of the Copa del Rey — a competition they had essentially forfeited.
But if they were also caught by Real Madrid in the league and failed to win the Champions League, the season could end trophyless.
This match was vital.
At the very least, they had to secure the league title.
This was a home match — they had confidence.
ROOOOAAAAAARRRRR!!
Another surge of wild cheering filled the stadium.
The whistle blew. The match began.
Barcelona kicked off.
"Press! Go press them!"
As soon as play started, Suker charged forward at full sprint.
The other Real Madrid players followed up quickly.
Their pressing was organized — every player stayed at safe distances while cutting off passing lanes.
But facing a false nine system, the six midfielders' constant rotations made it impossible to cut off every route.
Busquets scanned the field.
When Puyol passed him the ball, he quickly returned it with a one-touch pass.
Whoosh!
Sure enough, Suker was already closing in.
"Damn it!" Busquets cursed internally.
Same as last time.
Suker seemed to have locked onto him.
Suker turned and sprinted toward another target but felt a bit of regret.
Just a second late.
Or maybe Busquets had simply gotten more cautious.
But Busquets was slow on the turn — keep him from turning, and it would force Xavi to drop back and collect the ball.
Even with a false nine, Busquets was the vital link between defense and midfield.
Disrupt him, and Barça wouldn't have it easy.