Thirteen years later, José Mourinho led Real Madrid into the Camp Nou as one team and them out again as another having secured the kind of late victory he loves and which opens up a whole new world. With just three minutes and the final reserves of energy remaining, a wonderful moment of skill from Jude Bellingham found Eduardo Camavinga and set them on one last run. Camavinga sprinted free, skilfully slipped Pau Cubarsí and pulled back for Kylian Mbappé to provide the finish, a little bit of history written.

“The world that loves football will have stopped to watch this and they won’t have gone disappointed; this was two teams that played to win,” Mourinho said. It had been an intense, breathless ride, a proper battle, and it was his team who won it. Arriving right on time, Mbappé scored his second to make it 2-1, the Camp Nou falling quiet and their team given no time to react. They had drawn level after Mbappé’s opener, Raphinha scoring, but could not do it again.

In the corner, Madrid’s players piled on. This was the Frenchman’s 10th goal against Barcelona but none felt quite like this. Not only was this the first time Barcelona failed to win in the league this season, their record-equalling run halted at nine; it was the first time they had failed to win any game since returning here a year ago.

“I’m not going to let them have their heads on the moon,” Mourinho said, but he knew what this meant. So much for a struggling side heading to an inevitable fall; so much for Barcelona going nine points clear, the title race run before November. There is life in Madrid and in this league. Life in their manager too: this was expertly planned and executed, the rivals who were running at 4.3 goals per game reduced to just one. Those certainties, misplaced, seemed a long way away now; a season starts here instead.

In the beginning, the ball was all Barcelona’s but no sooner had they lost it than the first shot was Madrid’s, Pedri’s startlingly loose pass allowing Arda Guler to break and fire over on four minutes. That felt like a pattern set, a portrait of the way both teams would likely approach this. So too did the way that Marc Cucurella went for Lamine Yamal, the Madrid full-back seeking a way under the winger’s skin – a task in which, it had to be ­concluded, he was successful.

The impression though was deceptive, Madrid willing to step on to the front foot and apply a pressure with which Barcelona were not comfortable, Pedri and Rodri unable to fully settle. Where they could they played too, Bernardo Silva included alongside Aurélien Tchouaméni.

They were also, naturally enough, ready to run. In those early phases, Fede Valverde was opening the pitch with long diagonals. From one, Mbappé went dashing up the left, leading to Joan García scooping away ­Guler’s shot. This was frantic and Madrid were finding it to their liking, Mbappé and Yan Diomandé a threat.

The hosts tried to impose control but could not. That said, they too enjoy flying into space, and from a Pedri run Raphinha shot over. Then Anthony Gordon bombed through and produced a neat back-heel for Raphinha to curl wide. The Brazilian would have another shot wide soon after, although the openings were often lost to an insistence on playing (and ­wasting) one last pass or, conversely, to snatch at shots. The half’s best opportunity came when Guler’s gorgeous ball was volleyed over by Mbappé. Back and forth it went, Gordon drawing a sharp save from Andriy Lunin.

In the midst of it all the Camp Nou roared in indignation with each, increasingly intense Cucurella challenge on Lamine Yamal, before silence fell on 41 minutes. Cucurella released Diomandé, so often the destination, who pulled across low and hard. Gerard Martín got there first but could only hit it against Mbappé and in. There was fortune there, but it had been worked for, not simply found. And when Lamine Yamal had a wonderful chance to level he wasted the opportunity, scuffing wide at the near post, a picture of a night that wasn’t his.

Barcelona came back at Madrid in the second half. The tackles around the box were racking up: Tchouaméni and Bellingham, Dean Huijsen and Ibrahima Konaté. The threat never went away, Martín ended one ­Bellingham break, but the match had tilted. On the hour Barcelona were level. Lamine Yamal took a corner short to Pedri who slipped a clever angled, reversed ball into Raphinha to strike low into the net.

The noise rose. Raphinha was denied at one end. García saved from Guler at the other. And, Barcelona back again, Lunin made an astonishing stop from Martín’s header. Barcelona had taken a grip but not entirely, leaving them exposed to every break and leaving the game, the players and the entire place on edge. Mbappé ran at Barcelona, Pedri ran back again, leading a move that concluded with some neat footwork and a shot just wide. Huijsen then dived in to stop Frenkie de Jong and stopped a Lamine Yamal shot with his face, laying him out. The chance had been laid on by Gordon.

Barcelona insisted. Madrid, tired now, resisted. But there was still some fight in them, and still some finish too.