From Soccernet,

The league's on fire by Phil Ball

The last time Barcelona won at the Bernabeu, Rivaldo was still in his prime, Luis Enrique scored against his old mates and Giovanni, if my memory serves me well, scored the late winner and ran off down the pitch making the famous 'up yours' gesture that earned him a docking of his wages.

Beckham was still single, Ronaldo had just gone to Italy and nobody had heard of Ronaldinho. It's difficult to know which is the more surprising news now - the fact that Rivaldo is going to Bolton or the fact that Madrid have as good as blown it, but as they're saying here now, Arde la liga! (The league's on fire).

'El clasico' was one of the better ones in recent seasons, with the football generally fast and furious, and the play open-ended. Either side could have won it, but after Mr Grumpy (Luis Figo) got himself sent off for an X-rated lunge at his old sparring partner Carles Puyol, the Catalans sensed blood and went for the throat - mixing their metaphors along the way but still managing to score a nifty goal through the vastly improved Xavi, after Ronaldinho had looped a pass over the gawping Madrid defence.

Indeed, it's shaping up to be a classic finish, and like last season could easily go down to the wire. Valencia's draw at Bilbao puts them a point ahead of Madrid, with Barça now a mere five points off the top, but those five points would surely prove too many to make up if Real Madrid were in a happier state than they are at present.

The interesting thing is that Barca have two things to aim for now. One is the title, but Valencia are unlikely to lie down and die. The second is the deliciously motivating desire to nick the second spot from their friends in the Bernabeu and bring about a major crisis in the royal house.

After the June tournament in Portugal, all eyes will be on the presidential elections at Real Madrid. At the beginning of the season, Florentino Perez appeared to be in an unassailable position of strength. Everything he touched turned to gold, journalists far and wide were hailing the club as a new concept, as a shiny new marriage between marketing and sport. Never mind the all-round frailty of the squad, because the feel-good factor was so much in the ascendancy.

Barcelona were also down in the dumps, and nothing seemed to be going right, despite the changes at presidential and managerial level. As mentioned before in this column, the history of the Spanish league has been characterised by this dualism, so that it is has always seemed to be a logical impossibility that these two sides can both be happy simultaneously.

Up to the King's Cup Final against Zaragoza, however, everything was within Real's grasp. Now there is the unthinkable threat of them finishing with nothing, and worse, finishing below Barca.

It's not the fixture list that you need to look at but rather the differing morale of the two clubs. The Catalans have gone 16 games undefeated, and despite the Celtic blip in the UEFA Cup, are playing some great stuff.

Madrid are hanging in there, but the cupboard is looking strangely bare. If they blow the league, Perez may suddenly find himself back in the business of full-time property dealing.

The candidate coming up fast on the outside railings is one Enrique Sobrino, a less wealthy man but one who has already begun to outline his strategy from the unofficial hustings of the national football press.

He has so far been generous enough to acknowledge Pérez's good work since the year 2000, but claims he would reverse the galactic policy and get rid of Beckham and Figo, just for starters.



This is a high-risk venture, since there is no guarantee that the Madrid faithful will necessarily see this season's failure as one that can be solely attributed to the presence of too many world-class players.

All the evidence at the moment points to the likelihood of Carlos Quieroz being made the scapegoat, so that Perez and Valdano can continue to smell of roses, albeit less scented ones than before.

Quieroz is innocent of all charges, of course. He has generally gone about his work in a quiet and dignified manner, and whereas some would point to a lack of inspirational leadership, others would point to a lack of a balanced squad - which is hardly his fault.

If Madrid fail to win the league, then surely they will look back upon the events of late summer when the flashbulb glare of Beckham's arrival obscured the fact that the club's bid for Valencia's excellent centre-back, Roberto Ayala, was about to fall through.

Had they secured his services, they would have steadied their own boat considerably, whilst opening up a fissure in the solid walls of Valencia's back line. Valencia, in truth, have been Spain's most consistent side now for the last four or five seasons, and you'd be a brave punter not to back them now.

They could easily end up with an excellent double of UEFA Cup and league, as they will surely now dispatch their brave neighbours Villarreal in the second leg of the semi-finals.

Deportivo could also end up in a final - the Champions League to be exact. If they were to win it, it would complete one of the oddest statistics of all time - a team winning the Champions League after having lost 8-3 in the earlier rounds. Not only that, of course, but they may still face the side that inflicted that defeat on them in the final.

Deportivo are themselves something of an oddity - still unhappy with their manager, still squabbling amongst themselves, but capable of brilliance and ineptitude in equal measure. For all Spain's presence in European club competitions since the 1950s, it remains a disappointment to its collective football culture that only Real Madrid and Barca have won the maximum prize.

Valencia and Atletico Madrid have both had a stab in the past, but it would be wonderful for a club like Deportivo to win the trophy, especially given their rather mundane history.

Down below deck, things are hotting up too. Forgetting poor Murcia, four of the drop-threatened sides won, with Espanyol at it again. Luis Fernandez, sucking furiously on his lollipop, informed the press in his inimitable Spanish last Saturday evening that it was the first time that he had faced the press with his team out of the bottom three.

Unfortunately for him, Mallorca went and beat Valladolid on the Sunday and sent Espanyol back from whence they came, but with De la Pena and Tamudo as brilliant as ever, and Hadji rampant on the left, Atletico Madrid were simply swept aside on Saturday night.

Spain play this week, and if I were Inaki Saez I would have a good hard look at De la Pena again. Once the toast of Spain, he disappeared into the depths of his own troubled psyche and embarked on an odyssey of rejection around Europe, only to return and eventually shine again.

Saez won't pick him of course, since he lacks the imagination for such a bold act, but there's no harm in suggesting it here. There's still nobody in the league who can pass the ball quite like he can.

Finally, talking of good passers of the ball, I was having lunch in San Sebastian during the week in a regular haunt. Gathered around a table to my left sat four nuns, all dressed in their habits, deep in conversation.

The woman whom I took to be the Mother Superior was holding forth on the topic of Javier De Pedro, Real Sociedad's out-of-favour midfielder, who is more than likely on his way to Manchester City next season. De Pedro had committed no sin, but was simply the best crosser of the ball in the Spanish league, according to the MS.

One of her flock agreed, in between mouthfuls of cauliflower, that this was surely the case, since he had been the top 'assist man' in the league last season. The other three nodded in earnest agreement and were of the firm opinion that the manager should think again.

Spain - the only place where such a scene is possible. The league's on fire and even the nuns are talking about it.