Three weeks ago I mentioned that on the subject of Barcelona’s two world-class keepers: “The Catalans have a housekeeping problem and it’ll need the wisdom of Solomon to solve it.”

Luckily “Solomon”, or Barça director of football Robert Fernández at least, appears to have agreed with me.

I added: “… selling Bravo, the older man by nine years, is the only logical response …”

So it has proved.

Joe Hart has been pretty unceremoniously shown the door at Manchester City, and the Pep Guardiola revolution took a further step forward after he signed Claudio Bravo from Barcelona.

And Marc-André Ter Stegen (MATS to the legion of Barça fans who adore him), is going to be the man in possession of the golden gloves at the Camp Nou.

He’s seen off his primary rival, a stern one at that.

The old Rinus Michels/ Johan Cruyff legacy was dipped into as the Spanish champions replaced Bravo with Jasper Cillessen from Ajax for £11 million on a five-year deal.

But it’s MATS who’s the man in command.

I’ve met him a few times, and saw him this week at the Barça training ground – in and working (both on his fitness and on the likelihood that he’ll now get a new, improved contract) on his day off.

He’s a languid, sanguine guy – quick to learn Spanish, quick to appreciate the degree of difficulty which applies to any keeper at the Camp Nou.

Victor Valdés, probably the best, and certainly the most successful, of the club’s keepers always used to complain about it.

His point of view was that no matter what a keeper at the club achieves, trophies, clean sheets, defiant performances, one mistake is just about enough for there to be giant, reverberating murmurs from the fickle Catalan audience.

Fortunately, before he arrived, Ter Stegen had a good tutor.

And a very important backer. The same man in fact, Andoni Zubizarreta.

That’s right, the guy you remember keeping goal in the Dream Team and then being brutally booted out the door when AC Milan saw off Cruyff’s Barcelona 4-0 in the 1994 Athens European Cup final two years after Zubi, Pep and Txiki Begiristain lifted the trophy at Wembley.

In fact, what a Dream Team affair this has turned into.

Zubi bought the kid but was sacked midway through Barcelona’s treble season in which Barcelona, staffed by ter-Stegen in goal, knocked out Pep Guardiola’s Bayern Munich in the semi-final.

Now Guardiola and Begiristain are nicking Bravo (because they can’t get ter-Stegen) while Barça have lined up the Ajax-trained, Cruyff-style Cillessen.

Fortunately for the young German, who now has to carry much more of a burden given that he could play twice as often as he’s done in the last two seasons, Zubi prepared him well – even before MATS joined back in summer 2014.

The German told El Periodico: “When we were discussing all this and I was thinking of moving from Borussia Moenchengladbach, I asked Zubizarreta to be totally honest and he was.

“He told me the positives and the negatives of life at Barcelona so there have been no real surprises. “When a club is chasing you they usually tell you everything is perfect.

“The sun always shines, the stadium’s a dream, the fans are wonderful, your team-mates are brilliant. “But I wanted to be told about the good and the bad.

“He told me things that surprised me at the time but I’ve subsequently discovered he was spot on.”

While I’m sure Zubi didn’t warn his young protegé that he, himself, might be sacked midway through MATS’ first season, it’s a sure bet he warned him of massive egos and political games in the Catalan football media, mischief making from the Madrid media and a restless crowd which’ll criticise quickly and without much vestige of loyalty.

“He was straight with me and that helped me make my mind up about coming here,” reckons the club’s new No1.

“Zubi’s opinion really mattered to me and I basically signed for Barcelona because of him. “He told me Barça’s a bit of a family, similar to Borussia.

“I wanted to go to a club where team-mates support each other. Not where they sit around in the dressing room ignoring each other and playing with their phones.

“The atmosphere has been brilliant here.”

Some of which stems from winning, of course.

I suppose it has been another of life’s bitter little ironic tricks that Ter Stegen’s coronation as the first German keeper ever to be pre-eminent and dominant at Barcelona comes on the birthday (August 24) of Robert Enke – their last German keeper.

I met and liked Robert.

My friend Ronnie Reng wrote an award-winning book about Ter Stegen’s countryman whose time at the Camp Nou was curtailed by callous treatment and who, for unrelated reasons, took his life just when things appeared to be at a career high – back in November 2009.

It seems worth mentioning not because there’s any comparison between the men other than their nationality and choice of position.

Depression is not linked by national DNA.

But the stress associated with the panache, nerve, thick-skin, lightning reflexes, consistency and constant athleticism which are all vital to be successful at Barcelona is something that only those with teflon self-belief and confidence can cope with.

No, Robert Enke gets a mention because I imagine he’d be very proud of Ter Stegen, very impressed.

Moreover, the new Keeper King of the Camp Nou claims he doesn’t let stress or errors weigh him down.

“It’s vital to analyse our mistakes post match – you need to know what went wrong, what you could have done differently.

“I always know if I’ve had a good game or not and that’s important,” he said.

“We all make mistakes from time to time but you analyse, correct and then never dwell on them.

“I never go out believing I’m going to mess up.

“I go out to enjoy the game, enjoy playing beside the greatest names in football. “Being on the pitch in a packed stadium – there’s no better feeling.”

One he’s now able to savour a little more often thanks to his power play, and the Solomon-wisdom of Barcelona in selling Claudio Bravo.

We all sieve in the Yellow Submarine

Villarreal must be just about reaching a state of fear and loathing as far as the Champions League is concerned.

Their first significant adventure in the tournament, in what they’ll no doubt soon be calling the “golden days” but were still actually fluorescent yellow, brought heartbreak.

Their President, Fernando Roig, didn’t just buy well – he brilliantly sold his dreams, too. More than once I heard him saying: “I want to win the Champions League before I retire.”

It was about that time, in 2006, that the Yellow Submarine’s epic and adventurous team-building reached its climactic apogee.

Brilliant work and great fun to witness, but a 1-0 Champions League semi-final defeat to Arsenal – including Roman Riquelme’s missed penalty to try to take the tie to extra time. Sore.

Five years ago, Villarreal did superbly, given the deflation in almost everything around the club once Manuel Pellegrini moved on, to qualify for the money-printing competition once more.

To say they were soundly beaten doesn’t cover it. Snarled at, chewed on and then spat out by Bayern, Manchester City and Napoli, Villarreal lost six out of six and looked like Charles Hawtrey fighting Olympic heavyweights.

The impact was so great that they plummeted to the bottom of La Liga and were relegated.

They turned to Marcelino He took them up. He took them on consecutive Europa League adventures.

Then he won them a shot at the Champions League.

As you know, if you’ve followed this column, Marcelino’s relationship with Roig and his board was eroded by mutual dissatisfaction (albeit for different reasons) over players during the last couple of months.

Then Marcelino put his foot down on the proposed move of Musacchio to Milan.

The defender was made to train alone. And there was a dressing room row during pre-season.

He was sacked, Villarreal faced Monaco for a shot at the group stage – but came up short.

It’s a repetitive pattern that, for one reason or another, eating at European football’s top table can end up unappetising for the Yellow Submarine.