Getting down and dirty holds no fears for Barcelona

Richard Williams sees Chelsea's pitch preparation backfire

Great players can play on anything, even the mudheap that is apparently the best Roman Abramovich can afford, but it would be foolish to imagine that the conditions played no part in the incident that reduced Chelsea to 10 men before half-time last night. For all Jose Mourinho's disclaimers, he chose to turn a showpiece Champions League tie into trench warfare, and he could hardly complain when the decision inflicted a severe wound on his own side.

This was never going to be a gentle affair, and it had shown signs of living up to its billing even before Asier Del Horno's appalling challenge on Lionel Messi brought an instant red card for the Chelsea left-back. The recent history of bad feeling between the two clubs ensured a high-tension meeting full of bone-rattling drama, and the pitch, more brown than green, ensured that its virtues were more to do with effort and resilience than the kind of breathtaking movement for which the current champions of Spain have become renowned.

Barcelona's fans were warming up for an evening in which they expected their side to begin the process of taking revenge for last season's abrupt, brutal and - in their eyes - unjust ejection from the competition at the hands of a club whose methods exacerbated the pain of failure.

"The word 'revenge' should not be a word in football," Mourinho wrote in last night's programme. "If the word exists in football, then it exists only for losers."

A lofty sentiment, but not one that would be recognised by most of his fellow managers, or their players. Barcelona's attitude as the game kicked off certainly indicated that they were looking to impose the sort of superiority that, in their view, should have brought its due reward a year earlier.

The presence of the tall Edmilson and Thiago Motta at the base of their midfield suggested the kind of confrontation they were expecting, along with the promise that they did not intend to be physically overwhelmed.

In partnership with Deco, however, they provided a Brazilian-born trio that could be relied upon to ensure a foundation of creativity even when the battle was at its fiercest.

And then, of course, players from that country tend to have been brought up playing with a ball made out of rolled-up newspapers on surfaces that have never seen a mower or a roller, so an average English mudheap was never likely to cause them serious inconvenience.

Mourinho, however, leaves nothing to chance. Last night he may even have had an eye on the future when he dictated notes containing his opinion of the match's true significance.

"As for this being the 'pre-final'," he wrote, "the knockout to decide who goes through to the winner's collection, rubbish! Madrid, Juventus, Bayern, Milan, Inter . . . these are also clubs along with Barcelona and ourselves who can win it."

Not a mention of Arsenal or the holders, Liverpool. Casual but calculated, this was a characteristically suave form of insult.

It was entirely appropriate that a foul committed on Messi should cost Chelsea their numerical advantage. The 18-year-old Argentinian, making his first appearance in England, looked as much at home in the conditions as anyone. Covering the ground with deceptive speed, he showed a marvellous touch and the directness that leaves opponents paralysed.

After 35 minutes he hurdled a challenge from Del Horno and hared towards the right-hand corner flag, shoulder to shoulder with Arjen Robben, before turning deftly inside the Chelsea winger, only to run straight into Del Horno's assault. Within seconds every player except Victor Valdes had raced up to join the debate.

Seldom caught unprepared for such eventualities, Mourinho responded by bringing on Didier Drogba in place of Hernan Crespo and encouraging his midfielders to hit long balls for Robben to chase at every opportunity. But the goal with which they took the lead owed everything to a moment of defensive incompetence on the part of an individual as Frank Lampard's free-kick went in off Motta's right knee, giving Valdes no chance.

A goal worthy of the pitch on which it was scored, you might say, and in that sense matched by John Terry's own goal for the equaliser. The same could not be said, however, about the flashing header with which Eto'o gave Barcelona the win.