Los Coladeros, Episode 45: Family Jewels
No messing around today — we’ve got Mallorca at La Cartuja, and I want it won. I’m keeping the same team that splattered Leganés 6–2 last time, in the hope that we can keep a clean sheet at our end and do the same business at the top — it’s wishful thinking, I know, but it’s the start of January, it’s cold and bleak and I’m skint from Christmas. I need something to keep me warm.
It’s mainly wishful thinking because of the firepower Mallorca have at their disposal. Their front three is José Mari, Turu Flores and Samuel Eto’o, plus Harold Lozano, Ariel Ibagaza, Nourredine Naybet and goalkeeper Leo Franco are all polishing their studs in preparation for their visit to Seville. They’re mid-table in the league, but we’re only two points off the top now, so I demand wins. I want the title.
Turu Flores doesn’t even make the Mallorca squad, which is welcome news for all of three minutes, at which point José Mari sets up his replacement in the side, Víctor, for a chance that he really should score from. Fortunately for us, he puts it wide, but the first warning shot has been fired — and on 11 minutes, he’s at it again. Andrielos rises to nod the ball back to his goalkeeper under no pressure, but Víctor is a sneaky fox in the box, and he gets up ahead of Voulgaris to head at an empty net… but the ball clips the post and goes wide. That’s two massive let-offs inside the opening minutes, and I’m already reaching for Jorge Campos’s mezcal on the touchline. This could be a long afternoon.
The following 20 minutes is a siege on our goal, with my players struggling to get the ball out of our penalty box, let alone our half. Eto’o and José Mari are constantly on the ball and it seems like only a matter of time until Víctor finishes one of these chances. On 33 minutes, he does have the ball in the back of the net, but Eto’o is adjudged to be offside and the game continues at zeroes. I’m trying to change things around tactically but it’s making no difference, and on 36 minutes, the inevitable finally comes: Víctor uses all 20 of his Acceleration and Pace to scream past Andrielos, who, in fairness, does get back to make a last-ditch tackle on the striker — but the ball drops kindly to Eto’o, and the Cameroon international lashes it past Voulgaris and in for a 1–0 lead that the visitors absolutely deserve.
Fortunately, we aren’t in the business of letting people have the things they deserve. Deputy right-back Nuno Mata receives the ball from kick-off and gives it straight to Mikel Arteta. Our Spain Under 21 is tackled by Vicente, but Tsigalko takes it up and swings the ball into the box — away by Naybet — but Recoba recovers the loose ball and angles another ball into the box… Tsigalko has made up the ground! TSIGALKO’S HEADER! HNNNGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEROS! THE HITMAN STRIKES AGAIN! Tsigalko’s 15th goal of the season ties us up at 1–1 with our first chance of the match! How does it feel, match engine?! Yeah! Bite me!
Five minutes later Eto’o puts a corner straight onto José Mari’s head and Mallorca regain the lead right before half time. Why do I expect to have nice things? I can never have nice things. The players look dejected as they enter the dressing room at the break. They need some words of encouragement. They need a leader. I stand Maxim Tsigalko up in front of the whole squad and shout at everyone to give him the bloody ball — inside the box, if possible. The second half begins and, with this newfound sense of direction, we suddenly look the more likely. Victory puts a free-kick into the box that Shearer heads down for Tsigalko, but the Hitman’s shot is deflected wide by Chamot. From the corner, Chamot again slides in to tackle Shearer and put it behind for another dead ball. Victory trots to the opposite corner flag, puts his head down, and whips the ball into the box — it’s cleared, but Tsigalko collects. He keeps the ball until the players reset, but then flicks the ball up to Shearer and continues his run. Wor Al gets above Naybet and heads the ball back into the path of Tsigalko — one two with Recoba! He’s into the box! TSIGALKO’S DRIVE!
GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL! GOL TSIGALKO! GOL COLADEROS!! Our front three turn it on at just the right time, and Tsigalko’s 50th Coladeros goal drags us back into this game!
Sadly, Shearer has injured himself in the process of winning that header, so he’s replaced by Batistuta, and the angel Gabriel almost puts us into the lead with his first touch, but Leo Franco saves well at his feet as he tears through on goal. With momentum on our side and the wind up our chuffs, we’re all over Mallorca now — Ronaldo clangs a shot off the post and Tsigalko heads just wide from six yards as we creep towards the 75th minute. Ronaldo and Tsigalko then combine to get the ball to Batistuta, who turns and feeds the ball back to the Hitman — and his whipped cross is met by THE HEAD OF RECOBA!! WHAT A SAVE FRANCO!! Dear, dear. That could have been the winner.
It’s the last good chance of the game. Franco saves from a Victory free-kick and a rangy Recoba effort in the closing stages, but it’s not enough, and your draw specialists come away with yet another point from a game that, honestly, could have gone either way. I’ll take it.
Tsigalko is absolutely thriving in the AMC role — I know he was doing well up top, but from behind the main striker, he’s now got six goals in two games. And with Shearer out for basically the rest of the season with a torn groin from his encounter with Nourredine Naybet and Gabriel Batistuta, I’m sad to say, very much past the peak of his powers… it could be time for the Golden Boy to shine. Cherno Samba’s legend has yet to be written. Might this be his moment to establish himself as a new hero to the Wet Bandits faithful? Not exactly, because he pulls a Shearer and goes down for two weeks with a groin injury the day after the Mallorca draw. I know I told him to learn from Wor Al, but that’s taking it a little too far.
We’ve all been waiting for the news about Rafael Van der Vaart’s next destination, and while I had a feeling he wouldn’t be coming here, I was pretty sure he’d be going somewhere. Not so, however: he signs a new contract at Ajax with an £11.75m release clause that you can be sure I’m going to activate the moment we’ve got any money to spend. At this rate, it might be never.
Having said that, there is some good news for the finance team: rock bottom Leganés decide that Iván Amaya is the man to haul them out of their predicament, and come in with a £1.1m bid. Not wishing to correct their mistake, I quickly accept — and within hours, we’re rid of another unhappy centre-back. Not a bad deal for someone we got for free and who immediately proved he wasn’t ready for the big time. Best of luck in the Segunda next season, son.
La Cartuja isn’t quiet for long, as the Real Zaragoza team bus arrives out front and Michael Bridges steps off confidently. I’d forgotten he was there, and to be fair, I doubt the Zaragoza fans have taken to him with eight appearances, one goal, and more time on the physio’s table than on the pitch — art imitates life. However, the fact that his strike partner Martín Posse has yet to score this season pretty much guarantees that they’ll both find the net against us today, particularly as we’re shorn of the War God Tobros for picking up another five yellow cards and earning himself his second suspension of the season. I’m a huge fan of his youthful exuberance, but having a guaranteed booking in your side isn’t always a good thing. Ask David Batty.
The good news is that Mike Duff has recovered from his time on the picnic benches outside the stadium so he slots back into the right side of my defence alongside Andrielos and Tsikitsiris, who’s in for Tobros today — the frailer legs of Teddy Lucic need more time to recover. Up front, Tsigalko retakes his spot as our main man and I reintroduce Jonas Lundén into the double-ten role alongside Recoba. One of either Lundén or Moukoko is going to have to prove to me that they can make it in there before the season finishes, otherwise I’m going to either change my formation or sign replacements. There’s a title to be won here, and I’ve got no time for Scandi passengers.
Álvaro Recoba is showing no signs of phoning in his performances even despite agreeing a summer move to Celta Vigo, and he sets the tone in the third minute with a fierce low drive from Mike Duff’s cross that César Laínez has to be alert to keep out. Martín Posse is on the bench for Zaragoza, but his replacement Paulo Roberto Jamelli is the away side’s main threat — getting on the end of a Michael Bridges free-kick to head goalwards, but Voulgaris saves and clutches it at the second attempt.
That, however, is their only real chance of the half — and after that, the Rainmakers bring the thunder down on the visiting goal. Maxim Tsigalko is a man possessed at the moment, and he draws three fine saves from the Zaragoza goalkeeper — a low drive from Bergtoft’s centre, then a header from Duff’s deep cross into the box, and finally a chance all of his own making, lashed goalwards from the edge of the box and tipped over the bar by Laínez. He then drills an excellent chance wide after some fantastic build-up work by Duff and Recoba, and just as I’m starting to think his luck might be out, Andrielos and Tsikitsiris rob Bridges and conspire to reach Lundén high upfield, and the Swede’s swivel and cross finds the head of the Hitman, and he pumps it past Laínez for 1–0 to the good guys just before half time!
Laínez is forced into further excellent saves from Recoba, Ronaldo and Tsigalko before the break, and when it comes, it marks an excellent opening 45 minutes for the Wet Bandits. Everyone has played well except for, it has to be said, my two young centre-halves; Tsikitsiris hasn’t budged off his starting 6, while Andrielos has dropped to a 5 after failing to win any tackles or headers in the first half. Concerned, I put Nuno Mata on in his place — not a natural choice for centre-half you might think, but he has the numbers to back him up, and all his games for Portugal U21s have been there — plus he can hardly be worse than Andrielos. Can he? Oh god. Why do I say these things.
Ronaldo is straight into the action as the second half starts, skipping past Aguado and finding Tsigalko on the edge of the box — but he’s wiped out by Chitiva. Victory stands over the free-kick, whips it towards the top corner… and Laínez claws it around the post! Spectacular save! Jamie Victory isn’t finished yet, though: he heads to the corner flag, puts the ball down, and floats it into the box… Nuno Mata gets above Chitiva! MATA!! GOAL!! NUNO MATA SCORES! It’s just his second goal for the Rainmakers, but he celebrates his introduction by doubling our lead!
Michael Bridges is forced to head just wide five minutes later under pressure from Bergtoft, but otherwise, the second half is a mirror of the first: a Wet Bandits slip and slide. Every time Zaragoza approach our goal, their attacks are snuffed out — whereas all our attacks look dangerous, and likely to result in a third goal. Eventually, one of them does — with 20 minutes to go I replace Recoba with Moukoko, and the Swede’s first involvement is to get barged over by Movilla on the edge of the box. Victory takes the free kick, Laínez parries, and Cristiano Ronaldo smashes home the rebound to give us a wonderful, well-earned win. How Thanasis Tsikitsiris hasn’t won Man of the Match for that defensive display, I’ll never know.
That fantastic result briefly takes us top of the league, but it doesn’t last long — Sunday’s fixtures see both Barcelona and Betis maintain their unbeaten runs to stomp us back down to third. We’re still in good shape, though — although we need both those sides to slip up with their games in hand, keeping pace with them by winning games against tough teams is all we can do. And, I’m happy to say, at the moment at least, we seem to be doing just that.
Alan Shearer’s torn groin seems to be infectious. First it took down Cherno Samba for ten days, and now Mike Duff has caught a bruised nutsack of his own that’ll keep him out until March. It’s a huge blow, which incidentally is what I suspect caused it in the first place, and I instruct my physios to rub Teddy Lucic more vigorously over the next week in the hope he can stand in on the right of my back four.
Thank goodness for that.
Our next game, against Valencia, is this coming Sunday — but there’s a list of midweek La Liga fixtures in between that will address all the games in hand scattered through the division. I spend the afternoon with a tall glass of I’m not even sure any more, glued to Teletexto and waiting for the results to come in… and when they do? Oh boy.
Barcelona are beaten by a single Samuel Eto’o goal away to Mallorca, while Betis absolutely bottle the lesser-attended Seville derby at the Ramón Sánchez Pizjuán — and suddenly, those games in hand don’t look so menacing any more. Susan? Saddle my drinks globe. We’ve got a race to win.
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