Since making his debut as a 17-year-old for Sporting Lisbon and winning his first senior international cap a year later, there's rarely been a dull moment in the football career of Luis Filipe Madeira Caeiro - Figo. The past 12 months, though, have been extraordinary ones for the 28-year-old.
Not even if they had triumphed gloriously in the Champions League would the Barcelona supporters have been as rapturous, one suspects, as they were when their beloved Figo spoke the words they desperately wanted to hear last July: "I have made an irrevocable decision: I will not be a Real Madrid player," he vowed.
Ten days later Real Madrid called a press conference in the trophy room at the Santiago Bernabeu stadium and unveiled their new signing: Figo. "I'm happy to be here," he said. "I hope to be as happy here as I have been during my years at Barcelona." Then he pulled on a white jersey bearing the number 10 and smiled for the photographers.
For the Barcelona faithful the vision was the stuff of nightmares. They'd lost players to the enemy before - Michael Laudrup and Bernd Schuster, for example, in recent years. But Figo wasn't just a player at the Nou Camp, he was an idol, one they assumed would never leave them - and if he did it would be to Italy, not Madrid. That would be unthinkable.
His world record £37 million transfer was viewed as an act of treachery towards Catalonia, one that even surpassed the fury generated by Real's "stealing" of Alfredo di Stefano from the grasp of Barcelona back in the 1950s, a move that was, allegedly, "made possible" by Franco's fascist government.
"Figo represented the little that was left of purity and romanticism in soccer," said the Spanish daily Diario de Noticias, describing the player as the last great casualty of "soccer's moneygrabbing". Indeed, Figo almost doubled his salary when he signed up at the Bernabeu, earning a reputed £3.7 million a year for the duration of his six-year contract (his buy-out clause is £112 million).
"Luis Figo must have learned from other players and agents that the world he inhabits permits him to seek profit, disdaining morality and niceties," commented another paper, A Bola. The Liverpool Echo was never that hard on Nick Barmby when he left Goodison Park for Anfield.
It's probably safe to assume that no matter how raucous or how lofty the decibel level of the "Lansdowne roar" this afternoon Figo's knees will not turn to jelly when he takes to the pitch. Why? Because after surviving his return trip to the Nou Camp last October for the Barcelona v Real league match Figo probably feels he can survive anything.
"I feel as if I'm in the skin of a murderer," he said of a trip that began with him being met on the runway of Barcelona airport by armed guards who shielded him as they led him to the team coach. "I sat next to him on the plane," said Steve McManaman, "but no way was I going to sit next to him on the bus". Wise move. The coach was pelted with missiles by Barcelona's notorious Boixos Noxos fans who turned up to welcome "Judas" home.
One local tabloid ran a 10-page special on the background to "La Traicion" (The Betrayal), another produced a pull-out poster featuring Figo's face on a mock-up of a 10,000,000,000 peseta bill. Meanwhile at the Nou Camp, 12 hours before kickoff, hundreds of supporters gathered to greet the Real coach.
Its arrival was greeted by a hail of missiles and cries of "whore", "traitor" and "metiroso compulsivo" (serial liar). Inside the stadium 98,000 Barca supporters vented their fury, one section holding up a banner that read "100 million pieces of silver".
Normally Figo takes corners from the left so every time Real won a corner a group of seven or eight riot police formed a protective wall around the flag awaiting Figo's arrival. He, though, wisely left the corner-taking duties to a team-mate.
Barcelona won 2-0; Figo, not surprisingly, had a poor game, marked out of it by Carles Puyol.
"It's only a game of football," Figo said afterwards. Real weren't so accepting, enraged by the treatment he had received, with Figo's Brazilian team-mate Roberto Carlos admitting he feared he would not get home alive. Portugal promptly pulled out of a friendly against the Catalan national side in protest but Barcelona escaped with a laughable £6,000 fine from the Spanish FA.
Who had the last laugh? Figo, of course. Last weekend he inspired Real to a 5-0 win over Alaves - creating three of the goals - which clinched the Spanish league title. Later he joined his team-mates on the traditional victory parade to Plaza Cibeles, the route lined by 400,000 supporters.
The last time he celebrated winning the league he did so by joining in on chants of "Madrid cabrones, salud a los campeones" (Madrid you arseholes, salute the champions!). A year, though, as Figo would tell you, is a long time in football.
