Early on Sunday morning Hansi Flick got a call from his mum telling him that his father had died overnight. Hansi Sr was 82 and he had been ill for some time. The day that Barcelona were going to win the league again, the first clásico back at the Camp Nou, had just begun and their coach was not sure what to do, yet he also knew. “I [thought]: ‘should I hide it or should I speak with my team, because for me it is like a family?’,” he said. “I said ‘OK, I want to get the information to my players, and what they did is unbelievable. I will never forget this moment.”

None of them would. Barcelona’s players had arrived at the Torre Melina hotel on the Diagonal at midday, where the man many of them consider a father told them about his. Now it was close to midnight and together they celebrated a title that was his too. For the first time in 94 years, the clásico had decided La Liga, if decided is really the word when it was done a while ago. Barcelona’s superiority in the 2-0 victory that finally ended it was incontestable as it had been virtually all season, Real Madrid’s players withdrawing swiftly, relieved that at least it was over now and leaving the stadium to them, the first round of fireworks exploding into the sky and a sardana forming in the centre circle.

A stage was set up, three people heading on to the pitch with the giant letters that spelled CHAMPIONS. The presidents of the league and the Federation came down, the trophy was handed out on the night it was actually won, which is news in a competition where they could rarely be bothered before, there were brief speeches – “Bona nit, culers,” Flick began, before continuing in English – and Ronald Araújo led a lap of honour. Pau Cubarsí took the megaphone – “Well, no one else wanted to” – Raphinha took the drum and Marc Casadó took a giant Catalan flag. They gave Flick the bumps, throwing him in the air.

Mostly, though, they held him close.

This was already Flick’s league and the way it closed made it more so, a symbolism to it all, in what he had handled what it all meant. In the contrast to the rivals they had just defeated, certainly. He had arrived in the summer of 2024, a time of economic weakness. It was bold, a risk too, but if anyone does bold risks well it is Joan Laporta. Dani Olmo was unable to be registered, but Flick embraced it all, bringing a fun and enthusiasm to Barcelona’s football, an identity and intensity too. They won the league, so much better than the rest, but the coach suspected the second year would be harder and the way 2025-26 began suggested he was right. “At the start we went through a moment we didn’t want to,” Raphinha admitted.

Barcelona were a young team, at an average age of 24.25 – the youngest in the league, led by a teenager who might already be the best with all the pressure and personality shifts that can bring. Lamine Yamal might have been happy to perform his own coronation back then but he was also starting to see how heavy the head is that wears the crown. At the end of their 1-1 draw at Rayo Vallecano in August – a night when the home side had identified and attacked what their manager, Iñigo Pérez, called The Flick Line – Barcelona’s coach delivered a telling line: ego, he warned, kills success.

That was not all. Iñigo Martínez, leader of the line and much more, had gone. Fermín López had been on the verge of going. There was only one significant signing, although the arrival of the goalkeeper Joan García was very significant. They played home games in three different grounds, including the training ground. There were issues with injuries and with age: Raphinha, last season’s best player, has started just 17 league games. Robert Lewandowski, their top scorer, just 14. Pedri has only started 22. Gavi has barely played in two years. Lamine Yamal has missed seven, and played the early months through pubalgia, later talking of his “internal abyss,” writing: “I would like to be everything everyone wants me to be,” aware that he was not. The first clásico, in particular, had hurt. Accused of talking too much, Vinícius Júnior enjoyed telling Lamine Yamal he had not gone past anyone, or even tried to.

The night of that first clásico, at the end of October, the Santiago Bernabéu celebrated a 2-1 victory. But when Xabi Alonso withdrew Vinícius with 20 minutes remaining, the Brazilian headed straight down the tunnel. Seen at the time, it was bad; seen with perspective, sixth months on, it was the beginning of the end. Alonso had asked for attention to trained upon what really mattered – the result – but it turned out that Vinícius’s reaction was what really mattered, revealing and deepening fault lines that would be Madrid’s undoing, Alonso’s authority fatally undermined, any leadership lost.

Barcelona by contrast would head in the other direction. After the Rayo match, Flick said: “Last year we played and worked as a team; I’ve spoken to the players about that. You have to say it.” You have to hear it too, and they did, which is not to say it was immediate, or easy. Araújo had to stop for his mental health and after beating Alavés the following month there was the extraordinary sight of Raphinha trying to comfort Flick as the coach sat on the bench, alone and staring into space, sadly shaking his head. Flick had argued with his assistant, Marcus Sorg, the man he is closer to than any other, and watched his team underperform again. “We know as players we can can be better. He feels the team isn’t at its best [but] we have time to fix it,” Raphinha said.

More importantly, the Brazilian promised his manager that they would, and there was something in that scene – in the way they supported Araújo too – that spoke of strength in adversity, respect and affection. That spoke too of the empathy with which Flick treated them, born of his own upbringing: where his father had commanded and he had developed a sensibility, willing to listen, accompany, convince and unite, rather than impose. There was in his team something shared, a togetherness and collective culture. A warmth and an idea too, a conviction and a sense of responsibility towards their coach and each other. And Raphinha was as good as his word.

At the end of October’s clásico, Barcelona had been five points behind Madrid. The next time they met, Araújo returned and was invited to lift the Super Cup after the victory that saw Alonso sacked. In Madrid, something had broken; in Barcelona, something was shifting, mending. Lamine Yamal became La Liga’s best again. Solutions were being found: Gerard Martín, the backup left-back now the first-choice centre-back; Eric García, everything really; Fermín, flying. By the time they met this Sunday, Barcelona were 11 points clear. Madrid had fallen apart, collapsing into crisis, the in-fighting literal. Barcelona had won 22 of 24 games since then. The title was there to be taken.

For them and for the coach who is more than a coach. “We knew we had to give a bit extra for him,” Martín said. “At the beginning of the day we just thought about winning for Hansi and his family,” Ferran Torres said.

At the start, the Camp Nou stood for a minute’s silence, then chanted Flick’s name, something that was echoed all night: an awareness that here was something deeper. When Marcus Rashford scored, he went to his manager. When Torres scored, so did he. They had done it; 14 points clear with three games to go; they are on course for 100.

“Winning two titles in a row is not normal,” Flick said. Real Madrid have only done it once in 36 years. “It’s normal for Flick,” Rashford said. “He wins everywhere he goes. But to do it with such a young squad is not so easy.” At full-time, Laporta, embraced his coach, crying as he did so. It was hard not to linger on the image of Flick gazing up at the sky, eyes glistening in the light, as the fireworks went off. Nor to see something else in the way he embraced them all, the kiss on Fermín’s cheek, the moment he lifted Gavi off the floor. “He knows how to get the best from these kids,” said Barcelona’s interim president, Rafa Yuste.

“We dedicate this to him,” Pedri said. “This is for Hansi and his family,” Cubarsí said. “It has been a hard day for the coach and for all of us, because we’re all together,” García said. “He is a father to me,” Gavi said. “Football gives you family and for me he’s a father,” Raphinha said. On the pitch, they were queueing to pose for pictures with the cup and Wojciech Szczesny got to go in goal for a bit, kids taking it in turns to take penalties, while Flick made his way inside. “I’m going to tell you something because it’s not normal,” he said, revealing that morning’s call.

“I am really proud of everyone,” Flick said. “For me, it is really a family and I appreciate it. As a coach it is always tough: you have to manage players and they have their own goals. But in the end it is about mentality and attitude and the team shows that in every training.

“In the beginning of the season I spoke about egos but I always felt would we come on the top level because I could see training. The most important thing is how they play for each other: it is unbelievable. And the people in Barcelona are really kind to us. This is really the thing I appreciate a lot.”

Have you ever felt as much love as this, Flick was asked. “No, never,”he said. “It is amazing.”

“I am really happy, thanks. This is why I am feeling in the right place, the right time. It was a hard day, but I am proud. You can feel the connection we have and this is the most important thing in football and in life: that you are connected, that everyone feels part of this family.

“And this is … yeah … It is difficult today to speak about all these things but I am very happy. I appreciate it a lot. Thanks. I will never forget this day, ever.”