Los Coladeros, Episode 39: Derby Day
Chugger is back from his annual service, but since the club is wobbling at almost £2m in the red, we had to skip most of the optional extras we’d usually lay on for him. That means he’s got new windscreen wipers that he’ll hardly ever use, but the lack of a cured ham air freshener is noticeable. The players will get used to his familiar, gentle whiff of mould and sweat eventually.
We’re going to need him today, because after four consecutive league games at La Cartuja, we’re on the road to north-west Spain once again, this time aiming for the city of Vigo, right near the border with Portugal, where we’ll meet Real Club Celta de Vigo, the Spanish Sky Blues. It feels like every team in this division has at least a couple of proper world-class players — it’s a golden time for La Liga, that’s for sure — and Celta are no different, with Contreras, Juanfran, Doriva, Gustavo López and Benni McCarthy making up a solid spine for us to break down this afternoon. Add that to the goals of Catanha (5 in 7) and the average of 4 tackles per game from star defender Sebastián Méndez, and you can see exactly why they’re sitting 6th in the table, just outside the European places.
After spending the morning with my drinks globe and the bus journey in and out of Susan’s backpack of refreshments, I’m feeling a bit frisky — and as such, I decide that today’s the day to unleash the three-man attack I was waiting until the end of the season to try out. There’s absolutely no reason for this other than that I’ve had a few, and I want to see some goals… hopefully more of them at their end than ours. As such, Costanzo drops out to free up a non-EU player slot, and Tsigalko comes in alongside Shearer and Batistuta to form an attacking trio that should strike fear into the souls of the Celta back line. With Recoba and Arteta in midfield, we’re seriously short at the back — and since Tobros has picked up a midweek knock and has to come out, I’m pinning most of my defensive hopes on the virtually untested Iván Amaya and the formidable but inexperienced Nikos Andrielos. Hopefully old ankle-biter Batty can keep things tidy back there.
The opening minutes are encouraging, as my top-heavy side wobble their way towards the Celta box three times in the first ten — but Shearer, Tsigalko and Recoba all miss the target from promising positions. It’s a little irritating, and just a minute later, my vodka-soda is careering across the away dugout as ageing Celta defensive midfielder Vágner manages to dance around Shearer and Andrielos on his way to battering a shot past a helpless Voulgaris and in to give the home side the lead.
However, seconds later, we’re back up Celta’s end — and this time, Wor Al makes no mistake. Mikel Arteta swivels in the centre and slips a ball over the top, Shearer lets it drop over his shoulder, and catches an absolute thunderbastard of a volley that rattles through Cavallero and in off the Celta Vigo crossbar. What a response from Shearer — and we’re back in it!
My trident looks sharp and menacing, but at the back, we’re basically all over the place. Both my full-backs aren’t covering themselves in glory and Iván Amaya isn’t settling into the challenge of having to deal with far more attacks than should be reasonably asked of a centre-half — but around them, Batty is snapping into tackles all around our box, and Andrielos wipes out anyone who gets beyond him. The main problem we’re having is giving free-kicks away, which is like Christmas come early for Gustavo López, who puts all of them on target — but in nets, Voulgaris is living up to his potential with a dominant, commanding display that I’m really impressed with. My hope that he’ll become our long-term number one is still very much alive.
Celta are just about on top of the game as we approach the break, but Andrielos beats Vágner in the air and heads the ball away to Batty. He takes the ball down on his chest and slides a forward pass to Recoba as I swoon in the dugout. Recoba glides past a challenge and slips a ball through to Tsigalko, who takes a touch into the box and looks to bury a shot in the top corner! TSIGALKO!!
HNNNGGGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL MAXIM! Tsigalko celebrates his return to the side with his first goal of the season, and it’s a crucial strike — we’re 2–1 up at half time!
Most of the team are on 8s at the break, apart from a couple of 6s in my back four, but no matter — I don’t want to change a thing. We’re just one more goal away from winning this game, I reckon. I’m not taking anyone out just yet.
The second half is a blitz on the Celta goal. After weathering their first half storm, it’s all us now, and by the hour mark Cavallero has saved expertly from Recoba and Batistuta, while Shearer has seen a header clang back off the post. It’s surely only a matter of time before we’ve got the ball in the net again — and finally, it happens. 66 minutes on the clock, Batty gets away from McCarthy and lofts a high ball into the box, where your hero and mine, Alan Shearer, rises highest to head past Cavallero for 3–1 — or is it? The linesman’s flag is up, the referee consults him, and after much protestation from the Celta players, the goal is chalked out for offside against Tsigalko, a man who didn’t feature at all in the move. I instruct Susan to write the first draft of my complaint letter to the Spanish FA. She knows more swear words than I do.
I make all my changes shortly after, with Kalogeras, Tsikitsiris and Samba coming on for Victory, Amaya and Batistuta — the former two for not showing up, and Batigol because his knees grind down to a fine powder if I leave him on for more than 75 minutes. It doesn’t help, and Celta begin to test Voulgaris once again through Edu and McCarthy, and my rectum is getting the workout of its life. We’re just about clinging on as we hit the 80th minute; Doriva goes wide for Pablo Contreras, who crosses into the near post, and would you believe it, Vágner climbs above Andrielos and heads down past Voulgaris and in for 2–2.
There’s still plenty of time for Shearer to hit the crossbar and Samba to have a stonewall penalty turned down in the last minute, and with all that built up frustration, the referee’s final whistle blows — and it’s another draw. In fairness, we finish with the same number of efforts on goal as Celta, and despite the fact that we could have easily won it at any point in the last half-hour, a draw isn’t a bad result here. Get Tobros and Duff back in this starting lineup, and maybe having a tenacious three up front isn’t such a bad idea…
…but not for our next game. The rumble back down the A-66 is a paracetamol and two gallons of water affair, but Susan reminds me that pretty much as soon as we arrive back in Seville, we’re due at La Cartuja for our next game against our brand new local rivals, Real Betis.
Betis have a genuine title-challenging squad in 2003, and while we were chasing f — king Hospitalet down in the D2B, they were just pipped to the La Liga title by late surges from Barcelona (of course) and Atletico Madrid. They’ve also done really well in the transfer market, only ever shedding dead weight and augmenting their side with some proper, top-quality firepower — to the point that their squad now looks like this.
We are incredibly fortunate that all three of their star players should miss out through injury — Luque and Valerón both being examples of their excellent transfer policy — but we’ll still have to worry about the twin Joãos of Tomás and Pinto up top, particularly as neither have scored so far this season, so the smart money will be on both of them opening their accounts against us today. They also have the pointy studs of Filipescu, Berizzo and Assunção, the pace and trickery of £300k bargain Diego Quintana on the right, and all that’s without even mentioning the in-his-prime Denilson prowling the left flank; it’s fair to say that any result against the Big Greens is a huge step in the right direction.
I’d very much like to get back to winning ways after consecutive draws have left us perched vulnerably at the top of La Liga, plus this is the Ultras’ first proper chance to ignite the new Seville derby at La Cartuja, so I owe it to them to go for a morale-boosting win. As such, we’re returning to the slightly more orthadox Diamond with our twin totems returning in the middle of our back line, David Batty with specific instructions to stick to whoever decides they’re going to burrow into our hole, and a generally more conservative midfield two of the Mikels, who are the kind of all-round, box-to-box runners we’re probably going to need against this Betis side. People keep telling me that Tsigalko doesn’t play well with others, but I’m not dropping Shearer, so he’s just going to have to do his job and score some f — king goals. Batistuta, despite having Achilles tendons that are split into four separate pieces, is very much waiting in the wings — and he’s had very good times alongside Wor Al. The battle for a starting spot in my front line is well and truly on.
The Estadio de La Cartuja is absolutely rocking, with a capacity crowd of 13,530 packed into every seat in the house. They boo the names of every visiting player as the teams are read out, and throw up riotous cheers as their heroes are introduced. Everyone is ready for this: the fans, the players, my staff, and most of all, me. I’ve got a plan to keep Denilson quiet, and it mostly involves Lucic kicking his knees off at every opportunity. Go get him, Teddy.
Betis start on the back foot, inviting pressure onto themselves, and we kick their front door in. Victory whips a free-kick off the top of the crossbar in the 6th minute, before Filipescu blocks a Tsigalko effort that’s bound for the top corner. The rebound falls to Victory on the left, who puts the ball straight back into the box, and Shearer’s header beats Gaspercic… but Filipescu clears off the line!! With ten minutes gone, it could easily be 3–0 already. We’re all over our noisy neighbours here.
Filipescu then tackles Recoba as he surges into the box and Shearer smashes the loose ball just wide of the mark. Recoba then lifts a ball onto the head of Wor Al, but he puts it just over the bar — and in the dugout, I’m starting to get flashbacks to the Celta Vigo game last time around. Alonso then gets close enough to the Betis box to slip a ball through to Tsigalko, and his low drive is saved well by Gaspercic. Tsigalko then hits a pot-shot from 25 yards that Gaspercic pushes to safety, and for all our pressure, I’m just waiting for the sucker punch at the other end… but when Denilson puts a free-kick right onto the head of Marcos, Voulgaris — a spectator for 35 minutes — flies to his left and tips the ball over for a corner which Lucic and Batty combine to clear.
Marcos then takes down a long clearance from Voulgaris in central midfield, and decides to see how far his 35-year-old, DMC legs can take him. He starts by escaping Arteta without our youthful midfielder even attempting a challenge, before nutmegging David Batty and bearing down on our penalty area. I’m extremely vexed already, as you can imagine, and it only gets worse as he streaks past Jamie Victory, gets into the box, and smashes a low shot past Voulgaris and in to give the visitors the most undeserving of half-time leads. It’s a classic smash-and-grab that I’m getting all too tired of seeing, and while I’m going to say it very quietly… Batts hasn’t covered himself in glory so far. If you’re getting repeatedly skinned by a has-been DMC, you might need to sit out for a few games.
Despite this, I decide not to make knee-jerk changes at half time. We are playing almost three times as well as Betis — they’ve only created one actual chance and scored a solo wonder-goal, while we’ve had four shots on target and ripped our illustrious opponents apart time after time — so we’re doing most things right. We just need the reward our play has deserved.
I resolve to give it until the hour mark before I do anything, and between 45 and 60, we continue to be by far the better side. Gaspercic, of course, is unbeatable, saving a Victory free-kick that’s bound for the bottom corner, then defying gravity to push a Tsigalko header behind from point-blank range. He then pushes away another Victory free-kick and punches Recoba’s dangerous cross clear, and when Mikel Alonso clatters the crossbar from the edge of the box right on the hour mark, I decide I’ve had enough. Batty and Arteta are seriously letting the side down today, so they’re hooked for Sestelo and Ronaldo as I abandon the DMC position and go to a 4–2–1–3, with Sestelo-Alonso in the centre, Ronaldo in AMC, and Recoba tucked in between Shearer and Tsigalko. It’s clobbering time.
Victory throws in to Recoba, whose low drive is saved by Gaspercic. Casas then tries to lob Voulgaris from distance, but our Greek stopper gets back to claw the shot over the bar. Pinto then runs at Ronaldo, and his fledgling compatriot tackles him fantastically — but Capi gathers up the loose ball, lays it off to Denilson, and Brazil’s newest wonderkid hammers a left-footed drive low past Voulgaris, and we’re 2–0 down. The Ultras are silenced, and my head is in my hands. How on earth is this happening.
At this point, with just over ten minutes to go, Betis manager Luis Fernandez makes a crucial mistake: he tells his team to sit back on their lead and try to defend it. Immediately, Tobros beats João Pinto in the air and nods down to Andrielos. Niko II gets the ball out of his feet, looks up, and wellies a 70-yard pass forward towards Shearer, but it’s over his head… and straight into the path of Recoba! Unbelievable touch by Recoba, who caresses the ball down out of the sky, flicks it up, and volleys at goal!! RECOBAAAAAA!!
GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL! WHAT A GOAL FROM ÁLVARO RECOBA! Our little genius has scored a worldie, and with ten minutes to go, we’re back in this game!
Betis realise the error of their ways and come out to try to attack us a little more, with Capi and Casas combining for the former to put a shot wide under pressure from Andrielos, who’s basically marked his man out of the game — safe as houses, mate. The board goes up for added time as Niko punts another ball towards our stacked forward line; Ronaldo takes it down and flicks it up for Shearer, who’s climbed above Rivas, and heads goalwards! Gaspercic saves again… but it’s loose! RECOBA IS THERE! ÁLVARO RECOBA!!
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEROS!! ÁLVARO RECOBA HAS SAVED US WITH THE LAST KICK OF THE GAME! Recoba, Shearer, Ronaldo and Tsigalko sprint over to the home support! Álvaro jumps into a sea of Ultras, who are going bananas in the stands! AND IT’S ALL OVER! Never has a draw felt so much like a win. My god, we deserved something from that — it’s a fantastic performance, a great day, and what a way to finish. Well in, boys!
Despite only picking up a point, the board are happy with the way we performed, and I thank them for their magnanimity. It would be easy to be unhappy with us for sacking the game off to a draw after dominating for large periods, but Los Coladeros are owned by the fans, and they know the score. They know a world-class performance from their players when they see one. We drop to second behind Barcelona, who continue their dominant run, and Betis rise to third in the wake of this result — so all in all, two draws, two points, but I’d say it’s been a pretty good week. Betis look shaken. They know we’ll have them at their place.
If you’re enjoying Los Coladeros, please consider clicking and holding the Clap button to recommend the series. It really helps! Thank you ❤
