When Sergi Roberto sent that 95th-minute volley into the Paris St-Germain net, completing the greatest comeback in the history of European football, Camp Nou exploded in a release of raw, ecstatic emotion.
All around me, people were hugging, jumping, screaming. Grown men were crying and strangers were leaping into each other's arms.
Unlike so much of modern sport, there was nothing contrived or orchestrated about those celebrations, about that moment.
This was deep, instinctive passion at its most authentic and unrefined. Just pure, wordless, thoughtless exhilaration. And it is surely for moments like this, which come along once every few years if you're lucky, that sport is so compelling.
