Los Coladeros, Episode 29: The Wet Bandits

14 min readNov 18, 2019

In five games’ time, we play Valladolid away. Even with three months of the season left, it could be a title decider considering the form both teams are in — but first, we need to focus on getting there without loss. You can’t order dessert after you’ve just dropped your main course into your lap; you look far too stupid. Trust me.

They’ve got Barcelona to navigate in the Spanish Cup, which will hopefully wear them both down and out — so that by the time we arrive, all we’ve got to do is finish them off. Sounds ruthless, doesn’t it? Well, that’s what we are nowadays. We’re the Stormbringers. The Rainmakers. The leaky killers. The Wet Bandits. Ain’t no stopping us now.

First on our list of terror is Terrassa, a team destined for relegation if current form is to be believed. They actually have a really excellent striker in Keko who’s quite an all-rounder and would be lapping up the goals if he was in our forward line; however, at the othe end, goalkeeper Fernando Maestro is less classical music conductor and more dodgy British Leyland car from the mid-80s. While I’ve no doubt that my writing this only creates foreshadowing, I still have to be confident that we can blow them away today, even at their place. They’re based in Catalonia, so if anything, it feels more like a home game.

The war god Nikolaos Tobros is sadly missing through accumulated yellow card suspension today, but if anything, it’s a good week for him to serve it. I decide that the other Greek lad, Thanasis Tsikitsiris, can have a go alongside Teddy Lucic at the heart of my defence. In other news, Mike Duff is back, so he will take his place at right-back, and as a result, Nuno Mata reverts to DMC, with Amdy Faye re-taking a spot on the bench. Adolfo also stays in the side for Moukoko after impressing last time out. Let’s have a go at them, shall we?

Two minutes in, Terrassa have the ball in the net, but it’s disallowed for offside against Keko, although I’m not sure my sphincter is going to relax for several hours. My team do their best to help, not in the literal sense, thankfully, but by trying to keep the ball at the other end of the pitch for the rest of the first half — and to be fair to them, they do a pretty good job.

After a very shaky opening 12 minutes, the Wet Bandits are finally inside the house. Duff chips a ball forward for Sestelo, which he heads down for Jamie Victory to volley at goal, but backup home keeper Abenoja pushes it out for a corner with Maestro watching on from the sidelines. He then saves a Tsigalko header from the resulting dead ball, before claiming a high Sestelo pass and then turning another Victory drive over the bar.

Victory runs up to take the corner once again, and he finds the head of Tsigalko again — but this time, our hitman turns provider, cushioning a header down for Sestelo to fake a shot, but instead square the ball across the penalty area — where Adolfo is lurking! ADOLFO!! GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL! ADOLFO GRABS HIS SECOND GOAL OF THE SEASON! It’s 1–0 to the Rainmakers!!

Terrassa take us by surprise from kick off — it does feel like my players keep celebrating long after the whistle sounds to restart the game — and my porous defence is once again grateful to Jorge Campos for saving and holding brilliantly from a Pedro Riesco drive when the striker was clean through on goal. From the save, though, Duff speeds down the right and crosses for Nuno Mata to plant a header on target that Abenoja saves, Tsigalko puts another header over the bar — it’s okay, he usually scores between 60–70 minutes — and suddenly, from out of nowhere, Adolfo has the ball and he’s clear of the defence! How did he get there?! Whether he’s secretly able to teleport himself over short distances or not, the fact is, Adolfo is bearing down on Abenoja — he shoots — the keeper saves — but Adolfo catches the rebound on the volley! ADOLFOOOO! HNNGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEROS!! It’s 2–0 to the Stormbringers, and whaddya know, Adolfo’s notched himself a brace!

Not a bad way to end the first half, especially when combined with outstanding performances from Mata and Sestelo in supporting roles. I leave my side untouched and release them for the second half — and they reward me immediately. Teddy Lucic decides to get involved in the fun, breaking forward from centre-half and crossing into the box from deep, and although it’s headed away by Rodri, the ball drops to the feet of Jonas Lundén — and he whips a deadly ball straight back into the area, where Maxim Tsigalko is hiding! TSIGALKO! GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEROS!! Maxim comes a little sooner than everyone expected, but it’s still a welcome relief: 3–0 to the leaky killers, and surely now, that’s game over.

On 63 minutes I make a couple of subs — I’m desperate for Samba to get off the mark, so he replaces Tsigalko, while Mikel Alonso is looking a little forlorn in midfield, so I withdraw Adolfo into the centre with Sestelo and put Tonton into one of the two AMC positions. Almost instantly, another breakthrough is made: Campos takes a goal kick long to Moukoko, who heads down to Samba. The teen sensation, just outside the penalty area, waits for movement, then flicks the ball over the static Terrassa defence for — you guessed it — Sergio Sestelo, who waits for the ball to drop before unleashing a thunderous volley that’s past Abenoja before he even knows what’s happening! SESTELLLOOOOOOOOOO! 4–0 to Los Coladeros, and that’s game, set and match.

To be fair to him, Cherno does everything he can to score, but is denied once by Abenoja from impossibly close range, then puts another header wide from a position where he really should score — but it’s okay. The goals will come. The important takeaway from today is that, while we applaud the travelling Ultras in the away end, we strut off the pitch with a comfortable 4–0 win.

Iván Kaviedes rejects my first and second contract offers, as he wants a monstrous signing-on fee and I’m not prepared to pay it. I go back with a third and final offer, feeling like I hold all the cards because I a) don’t need him really, it’s just a sell-on plan and b) nobody else wants him, so he’s the one who’s going to be unemployed in a few months’ time. He comes back with yet another rejection, which signals the end of negotiations, and you know what, fine. It was just a flight of fancy. We certainly don’t need him; I just thought he might be a road to an instant £5m by immediately selling him on, but meh, I don’t need the trouble. I’ll spend the almost £500k he wanted as a sign-on fee on some kind of glittering youth prospect instead.

Valladolid beat Barcelona 1–0 in the home leg of the Spanish Cup Quarter Final, and I’m starting to seriously wonder whether they are in fact the best team in Spain who have just accidentally been put into the wrong division. However, when the Nou Camp leg rolls around, los Blaugranas make no mistake, lancing our arch-rivals 3–0 with Haruna Babangida having the game of his life out of position at right-back. You can’t argue with results.

On returning to Seville, my scouts recommend I sign Chris Marsden from Southampton in one of the least likely transfer rumours of the decade so far. I vow never to trust their advice again, and set off for the stadium to prepare my tactical blackboard and chorizo slices for the visit of mid-table Compostela. In case you were wondering, like me, yes: compostela does mean composting, a fact made plain by the very specific whiff that clouds the air around La Cartuja as our opponents arrive. It makes a change from the stale alcohol smell that normally accompanies me, but I’m not sure I prefer it.

For us, Tobros returns in place of his Greek partner at centre-half, but otherwise, it’s exactly the same side that smashed Terrassa. Don’t change a winning team, yes Dad, I know.

It’s a frantic opening quarter of an hour. Compostela keeper Óliver attempts a clearance in the fifth minute that only reaches Adolfo, who slips a pass through for Tsigalko to drive past the flailing keeper to give us an extremely early 1–0 lead! Five minutes later, we’re at it again: after Sergio Sestelo attempts a bicycle kick that pings off the corner flag, Óliver twists through the air to push a Lundén shot over the bar, but from the resulting corner, Victory plants the ball onto the head of Sestelo — and he powers past Óliver for 2–0 to the Rainmakers after just ten minutes!!

Five minutes later, and there’s yet another goal — but this time, it goes the other way. Pedro Aguado gets past Victory on our left flank and crosses into the box, Jorge Campos’s one weakness, and Lima gets into the area unmarked and unchallenged to head down past our Mexican stopper and in for 2–1 after just 14 minutes.

I can barely keep up with the action that’s going on out there, especially as the game continues as it started — both sides getting in and around the penalty areas and taking swipes at one another. Tsigalko wastes an excellent chance on 23 minutes, dragging wide when he really must score, before seeing a volley pushed away by Óliver five minutes later. Jorge Campos is then dragged back into service at the other end, pushing away a brace of fantastic chances for the visitors. It’s a real tug of war with no obvious winner — until suddenly, we strike again. Goalscorer Lima concedes a corner from another Adolfo ball into the box, Victory takes it, Lucic rises above everyone to head goalwards — Óliver parries — but Lundén follows it in! JONAS LUNDÉN! HNNGGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEROOOOOSSS! Lundén’s fourth strike of the season makes it 3–1 just before half time!

The second 45, it has to be said, is quite a dull affair. Both teams have clearly emptied themselves in the first-half, and the second drifts by with very little action. I make some subs with around 20 minutes left to try to reinvigorate proceedings, but none of my three replacements manage to make any sort of mark on the game, and with that first half a distant memory, the final whistle eventually goes — another day, another dollar. It has to be said that my defence have defied our moniker today and put in an absolutely first-class performance, to a man — but if you had to pick someone out, there’s no looking past Tobros. The kid is scary good — and won’t turn 17 for another three months. No wonder the banners around La Cartuja hail the War God.

Trelleborgs FF offer a contract to Torbjorn Nilsson in the aftermath of this one, which is fine by me — I was going to release him at the end of the season anyway, when his contract expires. He’s actually been great for me, I’ve enjoyed having him here, but I just can’t abide people that sign for us, then declare they don’t want to live in Spain. You know what you’re walking into when you come here. It’s hot, it’s dry, there’s pork everywhere, and beer is cheaper than water. For most people, including me, it’s paradise. Daniel Ung is another one, but it’s not like it’s a Swedish condition — Tonton doesn’t mind it, and neither do Jonas or Teddy. Even Richard Dunne is having a fine old time and he has to take a bath in suncream every morning. The sooner the moaners are out of here, the better. With that in mind, I also re-list Ung and hope someone will give me half a million for him before the season is over.

Chugger’s wonky axles are back on the road north, this time to the Basque country for our second meeting of the season with Real Unión. We just about squeaked past them 2–1 at the start of the season, but since then, they’ve had a tough old time of it in the Segunda, with goals particularly hard to come by — they’ve got one of the worst attacking records in the league. The thing keeping them out of the relegation zone, just about, is their defensive record, which is better than most of the teams in the top half and made possible by star goalkeeper Íñigo Arteaga and star defender José Luis Gallardo — who I’m very glad to see is suspended today.

We have no injuries, no suspensions, and 100% fitness all round, so we’re starting with the same team once again. I don’t even need the blackboard any more, and my tactical chorizo can instead be stored safely in my stomach. Valladolid have now played a game more than us, but to the surprise of nobody, have also won all their league fixtures, so we’re now three points back from them with this game in hand. A win is more vital than ever.

Ten minutes in, Sestelo has headed wide and Arteaga has already made two saves from Adolfo in what seems to be a very promising start. Tsigalko then takes over, hitting a swerving drive from distance that Arteaga just about deals with and fumbles out for another corner. Victory takes it, Mata heads down, Sestelo chips in, and Lundén volleys!! Oooh, another fantastic save from Arteaga. We’re knocking hard on the door, but so far, the home keeper is living up to his reputation.

Maxim Tsigalko then scorches past the home defence twice on his way to smashing two more shots into the stands as we creep into the 25th minute with all of the play, but still without the lead. Mikel Alonso sweeps a ball into the box for Adolfo to head goalwards, Arteaga saves again, and the ball is cleared — but only to Nuno Mata. He flicks inside to Tobros, who pumps the ball into the box. Tsigalko tries to pick it up — but he goes down! He was being pulled by Miguel Angel!! PENALTY COLADEROS!! I can’t believe we’ve actually been awarded a penalty, but it’s happened — and Jamie Victory stands over the ball. Deep breath. Try to relax. Cover your eyes. That’s me, not Jamie — he strides confidently up to the dead ball, and strikes…

HNNNGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEROS! Jamie Victory’s spot-kick finally gives us the lead we’ve been scratching and clawing for, and no doubt warrant on the balance of play. Real Unión respond by clattering a number of their own shots high and wide of our goal — in truth, they barely carry any threat coming forward, as I expected from their scoring record so far this season. Today, however, Tsigalko also carries about as much threat as a toddler with a spoon, and I watch him wallop two more shots high into the crowd behind the goal and wonder just how many he’s going to have to miss before he finally gives us the cushion we’re going to need to feel comfortable. Adolfo, on the other hand, is like a man reborn, and it’s only a dominant goalkeeping display from Arteaga that’s keeping him from scoring — he hits three shots on target by the time the half comes to a close, and should have had a hat-trick based on the quality of his efforts. However, the home keeper isn’t for beating, and despite conceding the penalty, finishes the half on a nine, and we bring our slender lead back to the dressing room.

There’s nothing to change here, really. I could swap out Tsigalko for Abreu or Samba, but honestly, are they likely to be more reliable? I know Maxim has been more of a danger to the fans in the cheap seats than the back of the net so far, but how many times has he come through for us? I decide to leave everyone be, and patiently wait for the players to ease their way into the comfortable lead we should already have.

The second half starts well, and while Unión try to come forward, they are snuffed out repeatedly by Tobros and Lucic, who are both having excellent games once again, and Mata protecting in front of them. Mikel Alonso then crosses for Adolfo to head goalwards again, and again, it’s saved by Arteaga in what’s becoming a rather worrying trend. The two are basically having a one-on-one battle that the big stopper is winning every time, but surely, surely, the second goal is just a few minutes away.

The 64th minute arrives. Adolfo gathers the ball on the edge of the box. There’s only one man he’s looking for during this period of the game. Adolfo looks up, and squares for Tsigalko, who’s beyond the last man — Tsigalko’s header flies towards the top corner! NO! Another spectacular save by Arteaga! The man is invincible!!

Lundén, unmarked, then fires a volley over that he really should score from, before Alonso slides another ball into Adolfo inside the box — and his shot is saved yet again by Arteaga. Tsigalko dribbles his way past two defenders and batters a shot that Arteaga saves and deflects out to safety. It’s the 82nd minute now, and we’ve been completely dominant in this game without having the scoreline to prove it. I’ve made my subs to try to shore things up and maybe nick a winner through Abreu — he’s on for Tsigalko. 83 minutes gone. Right back Guillermo gathers the ball deep inside home territory. He advances forward, skips past Victory, then Tobros, and unleashes a hellstrike from the edge of the area — it’s past Campos! I can’t f — king believe it! They’ve f — king equalised, from nowhere, from nothing! Guillermo, averaging 6.17 so far this season and having never scored a goal for Real Unión before, has just pegged us back with a solo run and golazo. I just can’t with this.

There’s still time to nick a winner, but for the love of Tobros, how is this happening. Miguel Angel then has a header saved by Campos in a late flurry from the hosts, we are now wobbling — but we still manage to make it to their end, where Moukoko puts a header horribly wide from a position where, if you can believe it, he “must score”. Moukoko then gets on the end of another Adolfo pass and drives a low shot that’s saved by Arteaga and pushed wide. Victory swings in the corner, Guillermo heads away, Sergio Paez skips past Mata and hits a hopeful long-range shot from all of 30 yards… Campos saves it, but it’s still in play, and… centre-half Mikel Labaka, for some reason, is there. Why he’s there, nobody knows. We just had a corner at their end, but their centre-half is in our penalty area, and he pokes the loose ball past a prone Jorge Campos for his first goal of the season, and… that’s it. It’s over. We’ve been absolutely, utterly robbed. I feel violated. I can’t believe it.