Xavi and Barcelona – a marriage made in heaven that ended like a sour divorce

Xavi wept the first time he bid goodbye to Barcelona. Those were tears he shed for parting with a slice of his soul, the club he has devoted all his life for, the club he spent his time from adolescence to middle age. The institution had defined him, as much as he had defined it. Those were tears of joy too, for he was departing as a winner, with the European crown on his right hand at the sleek Olympiastadion in Berlin.

The separation, though, seemed fleeting. One day, some day, hope fluttered, that he would return, to be Barcelona’s again, to be Barcelona again. His was a coaching life foretold. Like Pep Guardiola; like Luis Enrique; like Johan Cruyff. He did, before he left again.

It was the perfect marriage; the manager made for Barcelona, breathing and living its idealistic ethos.

But Xavi did not weep the second time he bid farewell. He was sombre, relieved that a pain was removed off his chest. He could smile now — but he didn’t. The words he used implied as much. “Cruel”, “unpleasant”, “liberation”, he sprayed the words someone does after a sour divorce.

“It wears you down terribly, in terms of health, of mental health, your mood, your emotional state. I am a positive guy but the energy goes down, down, down, until the point at which you say: it makes no sense.”

The words seemed too unreal for someone who barely spoke anything half-bitter or acerbic in his career as a midfielder master of space and time. The pass metronome would pass anything remotely with a fireball potential. But Xavi had had enough, he had lost his love for the club. Like all sour marriages, the trust had begun to wane. The president would interfere, the sporting director would intrude, the media would interrogate.

“The [media] create