THE END OF AN ERA?

In the span of one week Barcelona's season seems to have unraveled.  During those seven days, the team lost two huge matches. The first loss was to AC Milan in the Champions' League, and the second was to Real Madrid, their arch-rival. The latter match eliminated Barca from the Spanish Cup competition.

To put things in perspective Barca had only lost three matches all year long until last week.This slip in form and the severity of the defeats have led many to wonder whether this is the end of Barca's reign as invincible.

It may be too soon to pass that judgement, but I do believe that the current style of play- 10 men in attack with only the goalkeeper to defend has passed its prime. The previous incarnations of Barca were attacking teams as well, but those teams' success started and ended with defense and an affection for the ball that bordered on patronly.

If your opponent does not have the ball, they cannot score. If you give the ball away and immediately retrieve it, your opponent cannot score. Those principles have deserted Barca this season. Even though Barca continues to dominate possession, they too easily surrender the ball and do not have the same urgency in taking it away from their opponents.There are several possible explanations for this slip in form.

First, their coach Tito Villanova has been away from the team for over one month undergoing treatment at Memorial-Sloan Kettering in New York City for a recurrent salivary tumor. The emotional toll of the loss of their leader who is battling such a serious and life-threatening condition should not be underestimated.  This Barca team more than any other club is like a family.

Second, the fill in coach, Villanova's assistant Jordi Roura, has been present in body only.  He lacks the skill or experience to manage the best club in the world against some of the best opponents in the world. The line-ups have not been chosen wisely. Substitutions have been poorly chosen or not made at all. There have been no tactical adjustments mid-match. As a result, the team's play has suffered. 

Finally, the team must be physically spent. They have played one match every three days for the past six months. I play one game per week, and often have discomfort for two to three days afterwords. I cannot imagine how taxing Barca's schedule must be - especially since Barca's competition is among the best in the world and since many of Barca's opponents commonly kick and abuse the Barca players.  None of these reasons are excuses for Barca's poor form, but they are explanations.

This brings me to the key question at hand:  is the Barca era - that has run for nearly four years - now over? It may be too soon to say, and it is almost comical that we are having this discussion since Barca sits 12 points above its nearest rival in the Spanish League and 16 points above its arch-rival Madrid. The League title seems like a forgone conclusion, but Barca has never been satisfied with one trophy per season. Anything less than winning all possible competitions - and winning with an attacking flourish - is viewed by players and fans alike as a disappointment.

I think we will know the answer to whether Barca's era of invincibility has come in the next two weeks.  If they can defeat Real Madrid this weekend with a convincing victory, then the jury will still be out. Moreover, if they can come back in the second game of their two game series against AC Milan and win by the necessary 3-0 scoreline, hope will be restored.

These victories will only be possible if Barca returns to its supernatural style of play- greedy possession of the ball, precision passing, and lethal exploitation of their rivals' mistakes. It will take focus, coaching, and shifting lineups to achieve this goal. Without these three elements - particularly without coaching - "success" for this club will not be possible. The Barca team is made up of many of the best players at their positions in the world, but these players are human. Despite what the pundits would have us believe, these players do not coach themselves, and these players break down. If one needs proof, one need look no further than the past seven days.

I am hoping and praying for a turnaround. Visca Barca, and we await your speedy recovery and return Tito!

AFFIRMATION

Today was the 57th Presidential Inauguration and the second for Barack Hussein Obama, the 44th President of the United States. This Inauguration was not as well-attended as his first one in 2009. However, this Inauguration felt bigger and more important because it represented the affirmation by the American people of the first President of color - a man who has been forced to endure endless attacks for the past 5 years.

We can ponder the question of why one would want to continue in such a position amidst such rancor and partisan divide another day. Today was about how this nation's vision and its course have been irrevocably changed by this singular man - President Obama - and the countless Americans who believed in him.

I remember when I first saw Barack Obama in 2004 in Boston on that summer night. I was in our basement in Baltimore watching the Democratic Convention when they announced the next speaker - a young State Senator from Illinois. His speech was a mere 18 minutes. However, in that keynote, Senator Obama reminded us how we are all tied together in this fabric called America. He reminded us that we Americans have more similarities than differences. He reminded us that what binds us is not government or corporations... but ourselves and our communities.

During that speech, his words moved me to forget who was delivering the message, how he looked, and what his name was. So resonant was that message, that I thought the speaker was speaking only to me. At the conclusion of that short speech, that I knew that this man would be President one day. Did I think it would happen four years later? No, try 20 years later. However, sometimes the arc of history bends a little more quickly than it did before. These are the times that we find ourselves in. This is the moment we find ourselves in.

Movements come and go. Presidents come and go. What remains, however, what endures in our spirits are these moments. Moments when that which we thought impossible becomes possible, when the future looks brighter than the past, when our world seems a little more light than dark, more hopeful rather than pessimistic.

Let us savor this moment, but let us also seize it! As President Obama said today, we will be judged by history by how we treated the least among us. We are a nation of doers not takers! We have a lot of work to do. We face great problems.  However, this man, this President is up to that task.  Let us each affirm our faith in him by doing all we can do to keep moving Forward because we are all in this together.

HEAVEN IS BARCELONA PERIOD.

I write from somewhere over the Western United States. I am on my way back from a truly memorable trip to Barcelona, aka Heaven.

This trip had its ups and down. Hey, anytime, one travels 18 hours to a foreign country, there are bound to be some ups and downs. However, with the exception of the stale air on the plane and the Vega General, or general strike, the trip was nothing but pleasure.

Barcelona is truly a special place unlike anywhere else I have ever been, and this trip did not disappoint. The weather was temperate. The food was delectable. The football was magnificent. The women were beautiful. The people were welcoming and down to earth. The art was masterful. The metro was clean, prompt, and efficient. In sum, the city was breathtaking in every way.

When I try to think of a city that resembles Barcelona, I am truly at a loss.  Sure, there are many other lovely European cities, but none comes close.  In my opinion, the city that comes closest is of all places Portland. Why? Plain and simple it is because of the shear passion and authenticity of the people in both places.  People care about the land in each place, People care about respecting other cultures and ways of life different from their own in each place. People have civic and regional pride in each place. However, Portland can only be considered a lighter, wetter version of Barcelona because of the greater diversity, history, and majesty of the Catalan capital.

One finds one's self drawn to people and places at various stages in one's life. For me, this is my Barcelona stage, and I do not see it ending anytime soon.  Summer family trip anyone? Sabbatical anyone?  I kid you not.  If I were ever to leave Portland, Barcelona would be the top of my list because of the focus on quality of life, work-life balance, peace, and pursuing one's dreams and aspirations.  

Only people like the Catalans that have suffered as much as they have under Spain and others can truly appreciate the value of life. Only a place influenced by so many different cultures and customs could be so tolerant.  They have seen tyrants, despots, dictators - all Spanish - rule over their land and repress their language and ways of life. It is that history as a backdrop that shapes the Catalan independence  movement. This quote from Napoleon sums up the Catalan people better than anything I could dream up: “Courage isn't having the strength to go on - it is going on when you don't have strength.” 

On November 26, one week from today, we will see what the Catalan people decide when they vote for the new regional government.  I, for one, will be watching.

However, whatever the people decide, I will remain a fan of the city by the sea named after its founder  the Carthaginian leader Hamilcar Barca.  

OLD TALE IN A NEWTOWN

Two days ago 20 beautiful first graders and 6 brave teachers lost their lives. No, this was not a school bus accident or a case of a communicable disease. It was another scourge, however, that took these lives - gun violence.

A deranged young man - it is always a deranged young man - gained access to his mother's vast arsenal. He first took her life. As if that were not tragic enough, he next forcibly entered her workplace - Sandy Hook Elementary School in his hometown of Newtown, CT.

For all we know he may have even once been a student in this same school. However, this did not deter him from brandishing a semi-automatic rifle and terrorizing the entire school and this community.

One can only imagine the screams of those young victims and the cries of those who fought to protect them in vain. The violence of that sound would be deafening. The violence of that sound would surely be seared into our collective consciences. The violence of that sound would surely not fade.

Sadly, the same had probably been said after Columbine, Blacksburg, Tucson, and Aurora. Yet each time, we have moved on. We have forgotten. Our will to have a constructive dialogue on this subject has always waned. Our collective disgust has always subsided. Our pledge to the victims and their families has always been empty.

Yet, Newtown feels different. Newtown is a moment that feels just like its eponym. We have the chance to make things better this time. To make something of this tragedy, to turn carnage into courage. The politics are never convenient or easy. They were not in Gettysburg in 1863. They were not in Selma in 1965. And they will not be in Newtown in 2012.

But the slaying of innocents comes at a time when a lame duck Commander-in-Chief who happens to be the father of two young children is in office. That man, Barack Obama, spoke in solemn tones on the day of the shooting and even more so at the Memorial service tonight. In his tears and through his eyes and words, I heard resolve. I heard empathy. I also heard a call to arms - not against those who fired the guns or who make them - but against ANYONE who would stand in the way of making this society safer for children and citizens, alike.

There can be no greater purpose for a society than protecting its children, he said. They are the most vulnerable among us. Yet, they are also the most important because they are our future. To paraphrase the historian George Santayana, any society that is not willing to protect its future is doomed to repeat the failings of its past. What will it be America? Let the names below be a constant reminder of exactly what is at stake.

GET BUSY DYING, OR GET BUSY LIVING

On the plane ride to Texas, I read - no devoured would be a more fitting description - Christopher Hitchens' posthumous memoir entitled Mortality. I found it somewhat uncanny that I read his book on December 15, 2012 - the exact one year anniversary of Hichens' death. May he rest in peace wherever he is.

In this book, Hitchens chronicles his struggle with metastatic esophageal cancer. His book is one of the most touching and moving descriptions of cancer that I have ever read, and I highly recommend it to you. By the end of an afternoon, you will have finished it, and you will be better off for having done so.

In case you are not familiar with Mr. Hitchens, he is a celebrated atheist and political and cultural critic. He famously decried belief in religion or God. He was a bold, boisterous thinker and speaker, and he made many enemies in his life. Not surprisingly, most of these enemies were on the right side of the political spectrum.

Hitchens' quick wit was matched by his taste for drink, smoke, and the fairer sex. He, himself, describes his hedonistic life in these terms: "In one way, I suppose I have been in 'denial' for some time, knowingly burning the candle at both ends and finding it often gives a lovely light." Poetic.

It is the juxtaposition of Hitchens' liveliness and the shear brutality of his cancer and cancer treatment that makes Mortality so compelling. For a man who does not believe in God or heaven, what drives one to fight for one's life? Simply put, it is love of life and all the people on this earth that make one's life worth living. In that sense, Hitchens is no different from any other cancer patient, but one can feel how much this life, the only life he believes matters or exists, means to him. 

I always respect my patients' right to fight for whatever they believe and to believe in whatever helps them get through the day. However, as a non-believer, I found myself strangely drawn to Hitchens and his approach to cancer - clinical, practical yet hopeful, but never sacrosanct or pitiable. Bad things happen to all people. Life is not fair. No one beyond ourselves can be blamed.

Hitchens writes evocatively of living dyingly with cancer. It is a reminder for us all who are well to live livingly, to enjoy every breath, every sip, every taste, and every moment. 

I quote another philosopher - the country singer Tim McGraw- when I attempt to inspire my patients who are in remission and those who are dying,  alike. I use the most simple yet powerful aphorism I have ever heard. 

Simply put, live like you were dying!

TOP CLASS

It is no secret that Nicholas is a soccer fan. However, it is also clear that he is becoming quite a soccer aficionado.

Today, I went to the pitch at my niece's school with her, Nicholas, and my dad. Nicholas was confident, poised, and deliberate. He looked and played like a mini version of his hero Xavi Hernandez, Barca's midfield maestro and possibly the best to ever play that position.

Nicholas' love of playing soccer is only matched by his love of studying it - watching highlights, reading magazines, looking at the "table," or standings, and constantly discussing the game with me. He loves that soccer is a global game, and he loves learning about the geography and history of the teams.

His knowledge is encyclopedic, and his tastes have become more refined. One recent morning he said, "Dad, I am getting tired of U.S. Major League Soccer. It is just not top class." He is 7 mind you.

With that in mind, after we played at my niece's school, we watched the highlights of the Club World Cup.  The final match pitted the Champions of Europe - Chelsea from England -  and the Champions of South America - Corinthians from Brazil. Chelsea lost the match 1-0. The lone goal was scored by Paolo Guerrero.

Afterwards, Nicholas said he was glad that Corinthians had won because they were from Peru, which is one of his favorite countries. I corrected him saying that Corinthians were from Brazil. He protested saying that one of the players was holding a Peruvian flag after the match. I said he must have been mistaken and changed the subject to avoid a fight.  We moved on, and this dispute never came up again.

However, before I began to write this piece, I read an article about the match. Guerrero, it turns out, is a Peruvian. I stand corrected about the flag.

Top class. Nicholas is top class indeed.

HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH... IN BARCELONA

I do not believe in God, but tonight I witnessed a piece of heaven on earth – an FC Barcelona match at the Camp Nou in Barcelona. I was seated in a prime viewing spot seven rows back from the players’ box at midfield, and no I will not be sharing how much the ticket cost!

The Camp Nou is the largest sports stadium in Europe, and it may well be the largest sports stadium in the world with a capacity of 100,000.  The stadium needs to be this big because countless hoards turn up for every home game to watch Messi and company work their magic. Tonight, was no different, and I witnessed the best sporting event – make that the best public event – of my semi-long life. 

First, the crowd was filled with people of all ages, races, and even genders.  Second, it was a decidedly family affair. A sweet little two-year old Catalan boy was perched on his mom’s lap next to me.  On my other side sat an older Catalan couple.  They seemed quite reserved… that is until the first goal.  After Messi put in the back of the net, the man turned to me and shouted, “Messi!”  I shook my head yes, and we smiled.  After Messi’s second goal, we high-fived, and I had made a new friend.

Despite the fact that we did not speak the same language, we clearly appreciated the masterpiece that was written by the Barca players on the pitch. The whole crowd appreciated that the players were not merely playing for them. These players were performing for the crowd, who witnessed football at its highest level. 

Ten of Barca’s starting eleven players came up through their youth academy, and so the club and the fans are almost like their family. One could feel sense the effusive pride with which these men played, and their love for the game was palpable and contagious.

However, I was struck most by the ease with which the Barca players played the game.  Nothing was forced. Everything was natural and well executed.  There was levity. There was skill. After the opposition Real Zaragoza tied the game, there was determination and Barca quickly regained the lead and did not look back.

Tonight was truly a night to remember.  I sent Nicholas live text updates during the game as he watched  home on TV.  I am sad Nicholas, Cate, and Kathleen could not be there tonight. Had they been with me, they would have witnessed something strange and unfamiliar in me – happiness and pure joy unlike anything in recent memory.

I will be back to the Camp Nou, and next time I will bring them along. Something as sweet as this time was meant to be shared, and I cannot think of anyone else with whom I would rather go to Heaven.

Visca Barca! 

P.S. Do not worry!  Once I get home, I will update this post and add pictures and videos!