Los Coladeros, Episode 36: La Liga

11 min readDec 4, 2019

Well then, Ultras. Here we are. We’ve worked hard, we’ve spent all our money, and we’ve made lots and lots of enemies along the way, but the important thing is: we’ve finally made it to La Liga. It’s the greatest thing ever. And not only that, we’re boasting one of the best squads in the division… nostalgia-wise, anyway. Who else can say they’ve got players like Campos, Shearer, Recoba, Batistuta and David Batty? Well okay, Barcelona, Real Madrid, Real Betis… Sevilla… Athletic Bilbao, Deportivo… yeah. Okay. Fine. FINE.

Fortunately, our opening day opponents aren’t any of those sides. After spending a long, long time trying to convince Recoba, Batistuta and Shearer to get on Chugger at all, let alone sit down, I eventually manage it — and we spend the next seven hours rumbling and coughing our way north-east to La Romareda, silver and blue wing mirror flags fluttering in the wind.

Real Zaragoza have some serious players, but the good news is that half of them are unavailable. Defender Paco and forward Martín Posse — who I had an eye on over the summer — are both suspended, while summer signing and Portuguese prodigy Ricardo Quaresma is injured. However, they are still dangerous at the back and the front — Gustavo Campagnuolo is a giant between the sticks, while Michael Bridges, of all people, leads their line — and he’s no slouch.

My team was pretty much set in the last episode, but here it is once more, with one small change. It turns out that Mikel Alonso is only at 83% fitness after reporting back from the summer with a dry mouth, so Adolfo replaces him in el banco — but otherwise, I mean, would you just hold your head in your hands and rejoice at the sight of this starting lineup. It’s a shame we can’t have Batistuta in the squad because of the foreign player rule — and I have to admit, I just assumed he had an Italian dual nationality after 12 years at Fiorentina and Roma — but nevertheless, this is a team that contains Arteta, Recoba, Ronaldo, Tsigalko and Shearer. It could be worse.

Zaragoza attempt to intimidate us right from the opening whistle, but their scare tactics only succeed in allowing Cristiano Ronaldo the space to fire just off-target twice after being played in by Arteta and Shearer respectively. Home keeper César Laínez is then called into action for the first time as Jamie Victory gets down the left and whips a cross into the box, where Shearer arrives with a crashing volley — but Laínez saves and holds brilliantly!

It’s a barn-storming start that’s given me quite the semi, and the sight of my front four in full flow does nothing to quell it. Ronaldo gets into the box again but can’t find the space to shoot, so he feeds Shearer — Wor Al hits it low! Laínez saves again, but Recoba is there for the rebound!! LAÍNEZ SAVES AGAIN! What a double stop from the Zaragoza keeper! Victory goes over to the dead ball, swings the corner in… Tsigalko’s header down! RECOBA ON THE VOLLEY!

RECOBAAAAAAA!

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEROS!!

Álvaro Recoba, 28 minutes into his debut, puts us 1–0 ahead in our first La Liga game!!

We’re all over Zaragoza here. Recoba puts a ball into the box, Tsigalko heads down for Bergtoft to strike just over the bar — then a Shearer/Recoba one-two leads to Aguado bundling Wor Al to the ground just outside the penalty area. He gets up, runs past the Zaragoza defender and says something boring about tax returns — but Aguado doesn’t like the way he’s calculated his annual allowance, and shoves Shearer in the chest! The referee is right on the spot! RED CARD AGUADO! Disaster for Zaragoza! They try to quickly reorganise, but Victory’s free kick bombs into the box… Ronaldo heads it back across goal! RECOBA ON THE HALF-VOLLEY!

HNNNNGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL RECOBA! 2–0 COLADEROS!!

My decision to stick Recoba in midfield is paying off, as the home side can’t track his runs at all — and he manages two more efforts on target before the break that Laínez gathers safely. We still, however, reach the break two goals up and looking tight.

The second half descends into madness after just 15 minutes. Substitute Slobodan Komljenovic, on for striker Drulic to try to shore up the Zaragoza defence following the red card, gets into the action by trying to break Recoba in half with a huge two-footed tackle — and he’s shown the second red card of the afternoon that ends this game as a serious contest. Recoba escapes without injury, Jamie Victory fires the free-kick into the top corner for 3–0, and that’s game over. It’s a shame we can’t extend our lead against nine men, even after I give Sestelo and Moukoko the chance to get themselves on the scoresheet — but no matter. Two for debutant Recoba, a dominant win for the Wet Bandits, and here’s the headline: we’re heading straight to the top of La Liga!!

What a start to our campaign, and Susan, quickly — take a newspaper clipping!

I would make some wild proclamations about how we’re here to stay and nobody can stop us now, but our upcoming fixtures are… yeah.

I’ve always wanted to go to Bilbao. My school Spanish teacher was from there, and I always liked the way she gave me As — plus, you know, it seems like a cool city with lots of museums and stuff. I do understand though, as Chugger thunders down the AP-68 with horizontal rain lashing through his rust holes, why so few people I know have visited — the rain in Spain falls mainly in the North.

I’m sure you all know, as wise and avid followers of Spanish football, that Athletic Club de Bilbao only sign, develop and play Basque footballers. You’d think putting such a restriction on your club would limit their ambition and achievements — but their tactic has certainly paid off, since País Vasco churns out world-class footballers at a rate inverse with the region’s size. Just a glance down this current Athletic squad is enough to make my toes curl — Aitor Karanka, Íñigo Idiákez, Joseba Exteberría, Santiago Ezquerro and Ismael Urzáiz have all represented their country at one point or another — Spain, that is — while this is also a place that has spawned the likes of Bilbao general manager Andoni Zubizarreta, Bixente Lizarazu, Didier Deschamps, and our own Mikels Arteta and Alonso. There’s no shortage of quality around these parts, that’s for sure — and now that I realise it, I’m going to have to keep an eye on my Spanish U21 midfielders to make sure their loyalties lie in the right place. Don’t think I won’t play Sergio Sestelo instead of you, because I bloody will.

I consider my starting lineup as the players enter the dressing room at San Mamés, and decide to go with pretty much the same one as before. The only change is on the bench, where Cherno Samba returns from four months out with a hip injury — and boy, does he have a job on his hands to get into this team. I take a look at Bilbao’s tactics before we kick off and see that they usually play a very attacking diamond 4–4–2; I briefly think about changing my side to compensate, but ultimately choose to go after them from the start. I mean, look at our midfield and forward line. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, you could have a player sent off in the 18th minute, that can always happen. And it does.

Maxim Tsigalko slides a pass through towards Shearer, who lifts it over Aitor Karanka — but the centre-half takes him out! He was the last man! The referee sprints over and instantly flourishes a red card from his back pocket, Karanka is off, and with an awful lot of game left, Bilbao are down to ten men! We reset from the sending-off, while Bilbao bring on a defender for a forward and go to one up front. Arteta stands over the free-kick, conflicted thoughts swimming through his mind. He has the option to shoot, but instead curls the dead ball into the penalty area — where Shearer rises above Aranzubía! SHEAREERRRR!!

GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOOOOLLLLLLL! ALAN SHEARER WHEELS AWAY, ONE ARM IN THE SKY! HE’S SCORED HIS FIRST COLADEROS GOAL!

What a start for the Wet Bandits; we pretty much couldn’t have asked for a better opening 20 minutes. Having a man down, however, seems to galvanise our hosts, and for the following 20 we’re indebted to Franco Costanzo for saving twice from Urzaíz, plus our twin totems of war, Tobros and Andrielos, who put their bodies on the line throughout the half to throw themselves into tackles and blocks that keep Bilbao at arm’s length. With the game entering the 40th minute, I’d be glad to get to half time with a lead intact — but suddenly, our opponents tire, and my ruthless Rainmakers bring the drizzle right to their doorstep.

Recoba lifts a ball into the path of Ronaldo, whose blockbuster drive is just tipped over by Aranzubía. Recoba takes the corner, Tobros heads it goalwards, but Aranzubía saves again! Jamie Victory is already waiting at the opposite corner flag, and puts another ball down. He steps up, whips the corner into the six yard box — SHEARER IS THERE AGAIN! SHEARER’S HEADER! HNNGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL SHEARER! A brace for Wor Al, and just before half time, it’s 2–0 Coladeros!!

The fourth official raises his stoppage time board as Bilbao, out on their feet, kick off again. There are surely just moments until the break as Urzaíz breaks forward and shoots from range, but Costanzo saves and holds the ball comfortably. He finds Bergtoft with a long throw, and the Swede hooks it forward to Shearer. On a hat-trick, Super Al plays a one-two with Tsigalko and sets off towards the Bilbao goal, althought doesn’t get very far before he’s held up — but still manages to find the feet of Ronaldo. With a glint in his eye and a shimmer from his greasy forehead, Cristiano blurs his legs and disappears through midfield, flip-flapping past Lacruz and chopping around Felipe! He’s through! Ronaldo’s swerving drive!! RONALDOOOO!!

GOLGOLGOLGOLGOLGOLGOLGOLGOLGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLAZO! CRISTIANO RONALDO! IT’S AN ABSOLUTE ROCKET!! And it’s 3–0 before half time!

Bilbao look beaten, but there’s still two minutes of the half for them to endure — so they kick off again, and try to keep the ball. Felipe looks for Urzaíz, but Duff nips in and steals it from his toes. He finds Tsigalko, who instantly switches the play to Jamie Victory. We’re well into stoppage time as Victory finds Ronaldo, who feeds Shearer — Shearer shapes to shoot! Tackled by Larrazábal! But Bergtoft has drifted forward, and the loose ball drops to him on the edge of the box… Bergtoft tries his luck! IT’S BLOODY IN!! STEFAN BERGTOFT SCORES HIS FIRST EVER COLADEROS GOAL! IT’S 4–0! CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?!

What a half of football! At the break, I bring on Batty for Bergtoft and let Shearer pass the torch to Cherno Samba. Their jobs are done, their replacements both desperately need match fitness, and with this game all but over, we just need to not collapse like a flan in a cupboard for the second 45.

And to be fair, we don’t. As is so often the case when my team takes a massive half-time lead, the second half is relatively uneventful. There are a couple more saves for Costanzo to make, which he does in impressive fashion, while Ronaldo goes on several solo missions to grab himself a hattrick but is ultimately foiled by Aranzubía. Eventually, our 4–0 win is confirmed, and with Barcelona up next, could we possibly be heading back to Seville in better form? I will say this: as long as other teams keep getting key players sent off at vital moments… I’ve got a good feeling about this season.

Chugger’s doors squeal themselves shut and his clunky engine backfires as your league leaders prepare to hit the slow road home for our first ever La Liga game at the Estadio de La Cartuja — and what an occasion it will be. We really couldn’t ask for more illustrious opposition to meet us for our first top-flight encounter in front of our loyal, frothing Ultras: FC Barcelona, led by Louis van Gaal; the dominant, reigning Spanish champions. They’ll be in for quite a welcome if our fans’ normal levels of excitement are anything to go by; when we won the league in our final home game last season against Albacete, the Ultras celebrated by almost burning down half the stadium. I can’t imagine what they’ll do to make Los Culés welcome.

As we arrive back in Sevilla, my skin sizzling at the slightest exposure to the autumn sun, I decide to squirrel myself away in my office and start formulating a plan. The very sight of Barcelona’s squad makes me nauseous, and even at home, I don’t know if it’s a good idea to go out and try to shell-shock them, or be cautious about their lethal counter-attack.