In the changing room, players are preparing: uniforms, cleats, shin guards, tape, routines, superstitions, prayers. Then begins the walk up to the Camp Nou’s elevated field. They walk through a small passageway lined with Catalan paintings, down a tunnel, past the cathedral then on to the pitch. To the left is the Barca museum, with its paintings by Dali and Miro. Outside the front gate is a modern sculpture, a Donald Judd-like piece of minimalism. The roof of the old grounds, a design by a disciple of Le Corbusier. But this self-conscious sophistication doesn’t matter right now because this game is a derby – two teams from the same city playing each other – and current standings be damned, anything is possible when the other team from Barcelona, Espanyol, the Periquitos, come to play in their white and blues.

But, the short-sighted will argue, Espanyol currently has 13 points. Barcelona has 36. Then they’ll point out that Espanyol has scored fewer goals than Barcelona has allowed and they sit a scant 3 points above the relegation zone.

Forget all that. This is a derby. This is a derby with one hundred years of history against La Liga’s sixth most successful team and a team that defeated Barcelona in 2008 and then delighted in watching them subsequently flail and finish third. This is the team that gave Barcelona a similar fright last year when Ivan “The Little Buddha” de la Pena put two in the back of the net in last year’s derby, one of which nearly unhinged Victor Valdes’ goalkeeping mind and made him a question for the rest of the season. Forget the statistics and the league table. Finishing at the bottom would be bitter for a team with Espanyol’s pride but the bitterness would taste like their wine if they defeat Barcelona.

And this challenge to Barcelona has been a part of Espanyol’s DNA since its inception in 1899. In the previous year, 1898, Spain’s colonial power had come to a forceful end when it failed to defend its colonies in the Caribbean. At a time when the rest of Europe was carving up chunks of Asia and Africa, Spain had been sent home, ending an empire that stretched back 400 years.

Internally, the disintegration of the empire echoed in regional challenges to the governing bodies. Catalanist groups such as Lliga Regionalista won parliamentary seats. In a confrontation that would become increasingly efficient in its violence, the Spanish Army attempted to repress Catalan dissidence which in turn stirred its popularity. Football Club Barcelona was born and the idea that politics and sport could be a part of the same collective subconscious was born.

Ten years later, Espanyol came to challenge Barcelona’s assertion as Catalan’s team. Coming on to play in long trousers, a shirt and tie was one way they asserted their idea of being properly Spanish. They were also granted the title of Real and assumed the title Real Club de Futbol, with King Alfonso XIII as its patron. To this day, Espanyol is one of the few teams that is granted patronage by the Spanish crown and is thus able to use the title Real in their names and to have a crown in its badge. At a time when part of the city was declaring its independence and was working for political and cultural independence, Espanyol’s declaration that it was aligning with the monarchy was seen by many as a violent insult. Others, however, saw Espanyol’s dress code and monarchist symbols as a reassurance in a time of change. When these two teams met it was a nexus for these tensions. The fights between players, the verbal warfare between fans and the battles between managements played out in the media all came to reflect the underlying conflicts between fears and assertions.

While the causes have gone, the history resonates in the identity of these two proud teams. And no doubt, Coach Guardiola will have his Barca men ready. He knows the terror of “The Little Buddha.” After all, de la Pena is a product of Barcelona’s youth system and was the heir apparent to Guardiola before he fell out of favor Cruyff and found himself dropped. For the coach knows that while this game looks like an easy one on paper, this is the kind of a game that champions must win.

It will not win the gold soccer shoe award. It will not be the latest Nike commercial to go viral. It will not be packaged for a Top Ten list. It’s the victory of negation. It’s perfected prevention. It’s the man with the city-destroying bomb at his feet and wire-cutters in his hand who at less than Second One chooses the correct wire and saves the city.

That is what Barcelona’s Carles Puyol did not once, not twice, but three times in last Sunday’s El Clasico, as he denied strikes from three of Real Madrid’s galácticos. And while Ibrahimovic rightly etched his name into hearts and history when his sublime volley sent a ripple through the back of Real Madrid’s net, it was Puyol’s defensive positioning that ensured Barcelona is off to its best ever start.

Far too often, journalists patronize the Barcelona captain’s style of play, reducing it to strength and ferocity. Implicit in those statements is the belief that his style is somehow lesser than that of those with crossover wizardry, that somehow Puyol’s style is more base, primal. At best this is a lazy stereotype but at its worst it denies Carles’ creative intelligence.

Similar to the way the Chicago Bulls’ Scottie Pippen understood his body and used its length to play between the X’s and O’s, creating the defensive pressure that confused and suffocated and freed Michael Jordan, Puyol uses his compact build to win the ball through explosive angular attacks. A taller man might wait for the arcing cross to meet his head. Puyol, through his intelligent understanding of the game’s movement, knows where he will meet the ball, uses his creativity to get there, and uses his body to send the ball where it most needed.

An appreciation of his game and the art that he brings must also include his timing. Like a Thelonious Monk composition, it is perfect but seems off. In the 26th, 53rd, and 70th minutes, Carles fully committed to sliding challenges in the penalty box and three times he prevented potential goals. As the game wore on and Real Madrid pushed forward with a one-man advantage, it was Puyol who ensured his defensive line remained compact, absorbing the attacks, winning the ball, then beginning the rhythm of attack. Like Theolonious, Puyol’s play animates the heart but also delights the brain.

The 155th edition of El Clásico ends with a 1-0 victory for FC Barcelona and while Ibra won the game it was the captain Puyol who was the man of the match, an intense effort in which they achieved their desired result without compromising their beliefs and philosophies. It was Puyol who saw them through a game of exhausting, beautiful tension.

You know expectations are high when you’re unbeaten in eleven games and you’re talking about “getting yourself out of this mess.” And after last season’s brilliance in which Barcelona became only the third team in history to win the three major trophies in one season, the attention paid to possible signs of slipping is all the more magnified. In the big trade of the summer – striker Eto’o out to Inter Milan, Zlatan Ibrahimovic in — Coach Pep Guardiola sought stability, a stability that, compared to last season, may decrease the number of goals scored but should also give Barcelona a valuable weapon when playing teams that sit defensively deep.

Unlike the teams in the English and Italian leagues, Barcelona’s 4-3-3 formation is not a 4-5-1 in disguise. All three of Barcelona’s forwards play forward and the wingers play wide, often on the touchline. This opens up the field and gives Xavi and Iniesta the space they need to control the midfield, maintain possession of the ball over 70% of the game, most of which is spent on their opponent’s side of the pitch.

Last season, Lionel Messi and Samuel Eto’o often switched what would be considered their natural positions, with Messi starting in central position, the nine-spot, and Eto’o (a natural center-forward) starting on the right wing. As a game progressed, Messi’s natural inclination was to drop deep into a more midfield position, an inclination which disrupted the opponents’ defensive marking.

At the highest levels of football, defenses are organized in zonal marking an man-marking is thought of as a negative approach. Still, zonal marking does fall into certain patterns. When a team playing 4-4-2 plays against a team playing 4-4-2, the two center-defenders pick up the two center-forwards, the two central midfielders pick up the two central midfielders, and the wide-midfielders pick each other up. The other two defenders, with the exception of players like Sergio Ramos and Dani Alves who are more comfortable going forward, stay deep to pick up the wide mid-fielders.

As a coach, you are searching for ways to disrupt those patterns that your opponent wants to establish and maintain. If you have a player like Messi on your team, you can do this by setting him up as a “false-nine,” a player who begins the game in the center-forward position but who naturally drops deep into the mid-field. This gives Barcelona an extra man in the midfield and leaves a center-defender with a decision to make: does he follow Messi into the midfield. If he does, he risks leaving space that will be exploited by players like Eto’o and Henry who will turn and run into the free space in the center. If the center-back sits deep and waits for Messi, the Argentine has time to either make a pass or run with the ball at the center-back at full speed.

In trading Eto’o for Zlatan, Coach Pep Guardiola brought in a player who, unlike Eto’o, is a traditional center-forward and will not be able to play the wing. As a result, the space made for Messi by Eto’o’s runs, is no longer available for Messi to exploit. So, the question is, why did Pep make the trade after last year’s history making season? When the “false-nine” system works, it is deadly. Hungary in the 50’s and Cantona’s Manchester are examples of how a deep-working center-forward can disrupt the opposition with devastating results. When the “false-nine” system is flat, however, or when the team is having a flat day, the system can quickly become lifeless and its attack dull. The system also invites other teams to “park the bus” in front of their goal – to put ten men deep in defense and play for a tie.

Enter the Big Swede. With his physical size and abilities, Zlatan can receive the ball and with his strength, turn and hold the defender off the ball while waiting for support. A tall man, Zlatan also offers an aerial threat that can punish teams who sit defensively deep. Ibra’s genius – and why he is worth the millions – comes in the soft touch and vision.

With Ibra, Coach Guardiola has created a second option to the free-flowing, midfield possession oriented, riskier team. With the Big Swede, he has an option for solidity, a strong, traditional center-forward, who feels as comfortable dazzling with touch and vision as he does using his strength and height to grind out a street-fight victory, as there is sure to be this season.

The Camp Nou will be floodlit and blinding on November 29th, with over ninety-eight thousand people packed into its five-tiered terracing, watching twenty-two players battle on its raised pitch. Cast against the black sky, this match between Barcelona and Real Madrid will have more than the usual aura of spectacle; it carries with it the history of modern Spain.

To understand this game is to understand that football is politics in Spain. For the Barça fan, to understand this game is to understand the history of Catalonia. It is to understand why Futbol Club de Barcelona’s sporting motto is “més que un club”, more than a club.

There are points at stake, of course. The three points awaiting the victor would give Barça a two-point lead over Los Blancos while a victory for Real Madrid would see them move four points clear of Las Blaugranas. But to reduce this match to a scoreboard is to miss what a Barça-Real Madrid match is all about, to not understand how much of Catalonia’s history is the story of humiliation and frustration, its aspirations as a regional power stamped upon by a dictator.

After the Spanish Civil War, once the dictatorship led by General Francisco Franco had overthrown the Republican government, the new regime sought to recreate Spain in its own image. From 1939 until his death in 1975, Franco sought to eradicate Catalanisme. The Catalan language and flag were banned, the customs of the region were made illegal and clubs were prohibited from using non-Spanish names. Opponents were exiled, imprisoned, or executed. Fútbol Club Barcelona, (which had its name forcibly changed to Club de Fútbol Barcelona), had its first martyr when Josep Sunyol, the club president, was arrested in the Sierra de Guadarrama and executed by Franco’s troops on a mountain road outside Madrid.

During the dictatorship one of the few places that Catalan could be freely spoken and the flag proudly waved was within Barça’s stadium. The club drew the people within, offering identity in persecution and confidence with each title and especially with each defeat of Real Madrid, the team, in the eyes of the Barça fan, that represents a dictator’s repression. For the people who believe that football means Barelona, there is no occasion when the hatred of their historical bondage to the capital of Madrid bursts out more than when Real Madrid come to play in the Camp Nou. It will be another one for the ages.