Los Coladeros, Episode 41: Shot Through The Heart
The international break is most welcome after a stressful few weeks in charge of Los Coladeros. We’ve drawn five of our last six games, and while I’m pleased for our resilience, I can’t help but feel like we’ve been a bit robbed. We should have beaten Betis and Atleti, for certain, and wins in both those games would have put us clear at the top of the table with four extra points and those rat bastards at Valladolid staring down Chugger’s tailpipe. As it is, we’re joint-top with them, Barcelona and Betis on 20 points, but with the latter having games in hand that will surely propel them above us when they inevitably win them.
The international break brings some welcome news from Portugal’s U21s, who best the Czech Republic kids 4–0 with a goal, assist and MOTM for Ronaldo, and a first appearance at centre-half for Nuno Mata, who grabs himself an 8. Lovely stuff.
There’s more good news after the international break is over. As I’m preparing for our trip to Real Sociedad, there’s a knock at my office door. It’s Moanas Lundén, out of contention for the entire season so far after declaring his move to Spain “a mistake”, and thereby losing all his first-team and first-name privileges. However, he comes to me cap in hand and tells me that after six months of being left to enjoy the sights and sounds of the city, he’s now made some friends, found a market that will make him his favourite rollmops, and he’s feeling a whole lot better. Not only that — he’s been training hard in his spare time, and he’s 100% match fit and ready to go… and considering that, can I take him off the transfer list?
I’ll not only take you off the list, lad, but you’re heading straight back into the side for our visit to San Sebastián. Rogier Molhoek has a long way to go to prove to me that he’s got enough bantz to start regularly for the Wet Bandits, and besides — I’ve missed young Jonas. He’s got the skills to pay the bills of a small island nation, and combined in midfield with Arteta, Ronaldo and Recoba, we could be onto a huge winner here. He’s like a new signing! Which is good, because we won’t be able to afford any real ones for some time.
In other team news, Tsigalko is back and Shearer is suddenly past it, so the Hitman heads up top into the lone striker role he so covets. The War God Tobros is suspended for smiting one too many peons in recent weeks, so Teddy Lucic returns to centre-half alongside Andrielos, god of that fine rain that soaks you through. Kalogeras retains his spot at left-back after I’ve grown concerned that Jamie Victory isn’t up to code for La Liga, and the never-say-die legs and heart of David Batty will be given the job of shaking hands with Xabi Alonso, asking him if he’s had a good day, then stamping on his foot so hard that he’ll never walk again.
It should be noted that the Royal Society have got a bloody good squad and are 6th in the table for a reason, but never mind that. This is all about the return of Jonas, and boy, does it feel good.
You pretty much couldn’t write the opening to this game. La Real come out to attack us, their first foray towards our goal breaks down, and who picks the ball up in midfield? Yep, Jonas Lundén, who tears towards the away box, smashes a high shot towards goal, Alberto prevents the fairytale from happening, but he can’t stop DAVID BATTY FROM CRASHING HOME THE REBOUND!! Batty’s first ever Coladeros goal, and it’s 1–0 after just four minutes!!
However, Lundén’s desperation to get himself back into the team permanently then goes quite sour just five minutes later. Aitor Aldeondo, our tormentor back in his Hospitalet days, sweeps a ball into the box towards Xabi Alonso, but Lundén clatters him to the floor — and gives away a penalty. Dennis Serban makes no mistake from the spot, and with the first two moments of action in the game, it’s already 1–1.
You won’t be surprised to hear that it’s nowhere near over yet. Voulgaris makes a special save from Alonso’s free-kick two minutes later, and Kalogeras completes the clearance with a pass to Recoba. El Chino, whose eyes look wider than usual, dances around two Sociedad players before crossing into the box… the defenders miss the ball! Tsigalko has found a yard of space! TSIGALKO ON THE VOLLEY!!
HNNGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEROOOOOOS! Maxim Tsigalko takes just three minutes to put us back into the lead!
Ridiculously enough, the next chance of the game leads to another goal. Francisco Javier De Pedro does his own little jig down the left touchline and crosses into the box, where the brooding presence of Darko Kovacevic rises above Lucic, heads straight at Voulgaris, but the ball bounces back to him and he makes no mistake the second time, bringing the scores back to 2–2 after a truly incredible opening 17 minutes.
Thereafter, the coaches from both dugouts throw gloves to their respective goalkeepers and tell them to start trying to make some saves — and, as usual, I’m happy to say that Alberto is far busier than Voulgaris. Recoba sticks a corner right onto the head of Lucic in the 21st minute, but Alberto claws it over the bar from close range. Recoba then hits a stinging shot straight at the Real keeper, who can only squirm it down to the feet of Ronaldo — but he also manages to block young Ronnie’s follow-up effort. Duff then crosses into the box for Tsigalko to climb above Lembo and head at the bottom corner, but Alberto gets fully on my nerves as he pushes yet another goalbound effort to safety.
Voulgaris then saves an Alonso free-kick but there’s still plenty of time for more disappointment in this half, as Lundén attempts to redress the balance with a blistering shot that, guess what, Alberto gets his fingertips on to push wide, and from the corner, the ball drops to Tsigalko, who blasts a banana shot all the way into the Bay of Biscay — and that’s half time. Grumble grumble grumble.
At half-time I tell Jamie Victory I never doubted him for a moment and shove him on in place of Kalogeras, who just can’t get a consistent run going. He’s down on a 5 having been bested repeatedly throughout the half, and I hope the steadying influence of the Englishman will help to stem the tide down our left. I have… high hopes? No. I have hopes? Well… let’s just say, it can’t be any worse.
The second half starts, and Lundén lifts a ball straight onto the head of Tsigalko, who powers another effort at goal, but Alberto saves. It’s starting to become worryingly predictable now, as Tsigalko then heads wide under pressure as we creep over the hour mark. Lundén is now down on a 5 himself, all the fanfare of his return obviously a bit too much, so I replace him with the calm, steadying influence of Sergio Sestelo for the last half-hour. Duff sets up Tsigalko to head off target again, before we get a free kick in a dangerous area. Victory stands over it, whips it towards goal — Alberto saves, but it’s not clear! Batty arrives on the scene, and puts the ball on a plate for SESTELO!! ALBERTO SAVES AGAIN!! GAH!! The ball is cleared downfield, but Andrielos shoves it straight back into the mixer — it goes wide to Victory, who crosses onto Tsigalko’s head! ALBERTO SAVES IT! I’m getting so tired of this!!
There are 15 minutes to go and I honestly can’t see a way we don’t win this game. We are all over Sociedad here, so I go balls out, with Shearer introduced for Arteta and shoved up front with Tsigalko. Recoba immediately finds Wor Al’s head with a cross into the box, but you won’t be surprised at all to hear that the omnipresent Alberto pushes it away, Tsigalko follows up! Lembo deflects it behind for a corner!! It’s genuinely a miracle we aren’t leading in this game, it really is.
The fourth official’s board goes up as I contemplate a sixth draw in seven matches, and yet another game where we’ve been robbed of all three points. De Pedro swings over a last minute cross that Lucic heads away. Voulgaris then comes out to clear a ball into the box, but succeeds only in smashing it off Lucic and behind for a corner. De Pedro takes it, Andrielos heads away to Duff… but Sá Pinto, on as a sub and desperately unhappy with his manager and everything else going on at the club, steals the ball and smashes it into the top corner at the near post. We kick off. The final whistle goes. I am apoplectic.
I couldn’t be more beside myself if I’d brought a life-size cardboard cutout to the bench with me. It’s a long, long drive back to Seville, and it’s already about 900km — we’ve got Espanyol at La Cartuja next, and I’ve no idea how to pick the players back up after that defeat. It’s crushing, and leaves us 5th in the table.
My pain is eased slightly by long-term target and Norwegian U21 international Simen Brenne being released on a free transfer by Moss — they obviously didn’t grow on him — and I move quickly to get him in on trial, then agree Hot Prospect terms that will see him join permanently on December 15th. He’s one for the future, this lad… though on current evidence, he could slot straight into my midfield once he’s match fit. I’d fancy him to Jamie Davies his way to a few rebound tap-ins.
There are just days before a Raul Tamudo-powered Espanyol arrive at La Cartuja — they’ve also got Savo Milosevic up front with him and CM01/02 king Alex Manninger in nets, so while I’m glad we don’t have someone like Real Madrid next, I’m also really not looking forward to this one. In response to the debacle of San Sebastián, I hook Kalogeras, Lucic and Lundén, and replace them with Jamie Victory, whose quality I never doubted, honest; the returning War God; and Mikel Alonso, to hopefully — and I’ve got every available digit crossed here — give us a bit more firmness in midfield. Lundén is straight back on the whine after one bad performance, so considering we need cash and it’s almost transfer silly season, he’s re-placed on the transfer list. I don’t care about him right now, though — all I care about is points. We need three of them today, for sure.
David Batty is pissed off and fired up from the weekend, and after winning two career-ending tackles in the first ten minutes, he then plays a one-two with Mikel Arteta and lofts a ball onto the head of Cristiano Ronaldo, who puts it just wide — but it’s a solid opening from the veteran midfielder. A few minutes later, he’s putting CR7 to shame: turning on the ball in midfield and driving towards the Espanyol box. He reaches the edge, looks up, spots the darting run of Mike Duff at the far post, and lofts it over! DUFFMAN CAN’T MISS! OHHHHHHH YEAAAAAHHHHHH! It’s 1–0 Coladeros, Mike Duff’s first of the season!
Tsigalko then sees a header saved by Manninger in what I expect to be a regular occurrence… but ten minutes later, Ronaldo does his best David Batty impression, carrying the ball through midfield for almost 40 yards before standing it up to Tsigalko, who gets above Manninger — AND TSIGALKO DOUBLES OUR LEAD! WE’RE WINNING! WE’RE ACTUALLY WINNING A GAME!!
Manninger saves twice more from Tsigalko before the half time whistle goes, but my goodness — we’re two goals up in a match for the first time in I’ve no idea how long.
The second half starts the same way the first one did — with Batty smashing his way through anyone slow enough to get stuck within range of his studs. This time Milosevic is on the receiving end, and Seville’s favourite import gets himself a booking for his trouble. Tsigalko then clambers above Manninger for the second time this afternoon to head home yet again, but this time it’s ruled out for a foul on the goalkeeper — Manninger winks towards his bench as the players reset, knowing he’s gotten away with one. His shitbaggery won’t last much longer, though, because the War God Tobros has decreed that he’s taking free-kicks today, and when he whips a dead ball into the box that should be far beyond his ability, Ronaldo plants a header on target, Manninger flaps it away, but the Hitman has his sights locked, and fires home the rebound from close range to make it 3–0 to the Wet Bandits. Manninger is moaning at his defenders despite the fact that he couldn’t hold a conversation, but whatever his complaints, the scoreboard doesn’t lie: we’re cruising!
Espanyol do their best to spoil our perfect day in the closing stages, with cult hero Iván De la Peña rattling two blockbuster volleys at our goal — but Voulgaris, back in his fold-out chair for most of the afternoon, climbs out of it just far enough to palm both efforts to safety — and after a long and winding run of mostly draws, we’re finally back in the W column. Thank goodness for that.
The spectre of San Sebastián banished, we rise to third in the table with a couple of extra games played behind Barcelona and Betis, who look like the teams to beat this season. Them and f — king Valladolid, who just won’t go away despite being beaten 2–1 by Atletico Madrid last week. Haven’t won since we held them to that draw, though. Don’t mess with the Wet Bandits.
Jimmy Graham’s contract is coming up in six months’ time, so I politely invite him into my office to talk about extending it. He’s currently on £250 per week, which is obviously far too low for a man with a ball bag of his size.
He puts his initial request down on the table. I laugh and push it back to him, saying there’s obviously been a mistake. He confirms that there is no mistake, and looks straight at me, stony-faced.
Does anyone else want to tell him?
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