Los Coladeros, Episode 47: Barcelona Away
It’s tight at the top. Seriously. Just a point between ourselves, Barcelona and Betis, with almost all their games in hand used up — there’s just one left for the Catalan giants, which we could make irrelevant by snatching any sort of win today at the Camp Nou. Chugger’s familiar journey to the north-east of Spain is quiet and tense as players, staff and Susan contemplate the magnitude of this game. A defeat, coupled with Barca winning their game in hand, would leave us five points adrift of the reigning Spanish champions. A victory, however, would put us four points clear of them at the top of the table going into mid-February. It’s a huge Saturday afternoon for everyone.
The excellent news coming out of the Camp Nou is that Juan Roman Riquelme is orange-injured, which should mean — please god — that he misses out. 24 goals in 28 games so far this season for the irrepressible Argentinian trickster is something I’d really not have to try to stop. There are obviously still plenty of other things to worry about, namely Saviola and Kluivert, but if they don’t play Riquelme, they lose almost a quarter of their total league goals in one fell swoop. If you offered me that, I’d bite your whole arm off.
We’re still missing Duff and Shearer for this game, while I also make one small change to my midfield. Mikel Alonso has been impressing big Trev in training, so he’s in for Arteta as our midfield pivot alongside the reborn Ronaldo — but otherwise, it’s the same team that masterminded that superb 3–1 win against Athletic Club last time around. Samba’s brace was a welcome surprise, Tsigalko and Ronaldo were outstanding, plus Costanzo’s 9/10 means he keeps his place in the team ahead of Voulgaris.
8,000 travelling Ultras are packed into the top decks of this grand old stadium, but you I can still hear Singing In The Rain blaring out above the noise of the home fans. Flags are flying. The band are playing. Fireworks erupt into the sky as the two teams take the field. I walk over to the home dugout and give Louis van Gaal a hard stare and the firmest handshake I can muster. He has that familiar glint in his eye, the sparkle of a man who knows he’s beaten me before. But Albert Jorquera, his sub goalkeeper, was in nets on the day we thrashed his B side 7–0 at their place. He knows what we’re capable of, and so do I. This isn’t your day, Louis. It’s mine.
As I’d hoped, Riquelme doesn’t start, but still makes the bench for the Dutchman’s side. I have to say that I’m also surprised to see Overmars, Puyol, Panucci and Cocu miss out in favour of a more attacking lineup that doesn’t feature a DMC, but even still… what a collection of players he’s got at his disposal. Their formation actually plays into my hands quite nicely, since we can go 100% man-for-man on them without anyone being forced out of position. The question here is, can Samba bully his way through that back three, with support from Tsigalko and Recoba? We’re about to find out.
My heart rises straight into my mouth as Gabri over-hits a forward pass in the first minute that sails over Kluivert, Saviola, Tobros, Tsikitsiris… and Costanzo, who’s off his line — but to my eternal relief, it drops just wide of the post. Our luck, however, doesn’t hold out much longer than that, as with the next attack of the game, Thiago Motta slips a pass through my defence and into the path of Patrick Kluivert, who makes no mistake from 12 yards and drills a low shot past Costanzo and in for 1–0 to the home side. The Camp Nou erupts, my eyes are in the sky, and as we kick off, it feels like this could be a long old afternoon.
Tsigalko takes up the ball from kick off and has his first go at the Barcelona defence. He tries to go past human wall Lilian Thuram… and manages to skip past him. Then he jinks past Gabri, and bears down on Bonano’s goal! Tsigalko is in!! ARGH. It’s wide. What a chance for Tsigalko, but he’s put it wide from a great position. Wait… what’s this? Tsikitsiris is down off the ball! His nose is bloodied! Robert Kovac is standing over him and screaming like a crazed lunatic! The assistant is flagging!! IT’S RED! KOVAC IS OFF FOR HEADBUTTING TSIKITSIRIS!! He’s totally lost it — his teammates are dragging him away! Barcelona are down to ten men with over an hour to go!
Van Gaal briefly shows his maverick/insane streak in the moments after the sending off by putting Javier Saviola at centre-half, but after Samba beats him in the air and almost equalises from Victory’s cross — saved by Bonano — he sees sense and swaps him out for Christian Panucci. Great news for us, though: Barcelona are not just down to ten men — they’re now without both their top goalscorers. We’ve got to take this chance.
Unfortunately, that’s just not the way it goes. This Barcelona team are so good that they spend the rest of the first half completely outplaying us even with a man missing, and in fact, we’re grateful to Costanzo for saving us several times and to Kluivert for missing the target from point-blank range when he should, quite honestly, put the game beyond us. It takes 45 minutes for us to get our first proper shot away as Ronaldo continues his fine form to set up Tsigalko just inside the area, but his low hit is saved and gathered by Roberto Bonano — and that’s the break. Recoba is our only player on a 7, everyone else is on 6s. Barcelona are all 7s and 8s. I just don’t know what to do about this.
I wait a little while to see if Barcelona tire as the second half gets underway… but it’s quite the opposite. It actually looks like they’ve got an extra man, not one less — and it doesn’t help that Riquelme comes on for Gerard ten minutes in, and even with his knock, he’s still lethal over dead balls. On the hour mark, he hits one from the edge of the box that Costanzo can only parry down for Thiago Motta to follow in and crash into the roof of the net for 2–0 to the home side.
I finally react; I mean, what can you do in this situation other than shove everyone up front? I withdraw Samba, who’s having no luck against Thuram, along with Alonso and Lucic, put on Moukoko, Lundén and Mata, and go to an extremely top-heavy 2–3–5 — but it doesn’t help. Barcelona simply retain the ball and remove us from the game for 15 full minutes; Recoba puts a shot wide in the last minute, and just like that, it’s over. We’ve lost at the Camp Nou even despite being given every chance we could have asked for. Based on this evidence, for all our trying and all my crying… Barcelona might just be unstoppable. I’m going to need the comfort of the porta-bar on the drive home, Susan, if you don’t mind.
Barcelona go top, of course, but in better news, Betis can only scrape a 2–2 draw away at Mallorca — which allows us to remain above them in second place on goal difference. There’s also more good news, as I secure a further summer signing: we’re losing David Batty and Amdy Faye on frees, so there’s space for a new DMC — and Raúl García looks like the kind of bastard we’ve been missing. I also argued his contract demands way, way down from where they started, so there’s hardly any risk involved here… unless you’re playing AMC for someone else. Next season is going to be a doozy.
A week goes by, and then, when Saturday comes…
Atlético Madrid you BEAUTIES — it was Barcelona’s game in hand, so it doesn’t make up for our loss against them last time, but blimey, it’s nice to see them lose. It’s the only way we’re going to win the title now, after all.
It galvanises me for our upcoming game against Córdoba, 14th in the league with only 16 team goals from their 23 games so far this season. Their top scorer is Whelliton, who’s barely lived up to his name with three goals in the league. That’s three (3) goals for their top scorer, more than halfway through the season. If we don’t beat this lot with a clean sheet, I’ll drink a whole bottle of ouzo on the Alameda in my underpants with Tobros, Tsikitsiris and Andrielos. They look up for it.
I make a couple of changes; Batty, Arteta and Lundén are back in for Bergtoft, Alonso and Recoba. Brenne will get at least a half here, assuming we win it easily. I’m tempting fate because I actually quite fancy that ouzo dare.
I might just have to do it anyway, because we record an excellent win against the men in green, who feature former Wet Bandit Henning Berg in their back four. He actually does better than most of his colleagues in attempting to stop Tsigalko and Samba, who both score before half time — Tsigalko converting a Victory free-kick from close range and Samba powering a header past Jáuregi from David Batty’s lofted ball into the box to give us a 2–0 lead at the break that we carry all the way to full time. In truth, it’s not a classic encounter; I’m disappointed to say we allow Córdoba far more chances than we should and they really ought to score, but that profligacy I mentioned before the game carries over to this one. ‘The Beef’ Whelliton can only fire wide from two excellent chances, while a much tougher one — on the turn 20 yards out — is saved well by Costanzo. I give Mata, Andrielos and Brenne a run out in the second half, but it doesn’t change a lot — it’s a comfortable win that raises us back to the summit of La Liga, at least temporarily.
Soon after, we’re back at La Cartuja and straight back into the action for the visit of one of Spanish football’s other superpowers: Atlético Madrid. Since we’ve been conceding far too many chances and therefore goals recently, Córdoba aside, I’ve decided to try out a new formation for the visit of Los Rojiblancos. Actually, it’s something of a return to a former favourite; since none of my AMCs are covering themselves in honey (apart from Tsigalko, who’s more withdrawn striker than attacking midfielder), I’ve decided to ditch the rest of them altogether and return to my old favourite 4–1–3–2, with a small twist. With Tsigalko remaining behind Samba and therefore my central MC staying as a pivot in midfield, ladies and mainly gentlemen, I bring you: the Slip ‘n Slide. My all-conquering Rushden and Diamonds team— god rest their souls — smashed and grabbed their way into Europe and the Premier League with this tactic, and that was without the likes of Samba, Tsigalko, Recoba and Ronaldo… well, this version of Ronaldo, anyway. David Batty is sadly suspended for picking up the appropriate number of yellow cards — around one per game — so Bergtoft returns in his place. Atleti have Contra, Emerson, Albertini, Stankovic and Torres in their ranks, and despite their mid-table position, are not going to be walkovers. We’re going to need to get up for this one, big time.
We make a golden start to the game. Recoba runs at Contra wide on the left and is shoved to the ground; from the resulting free-kick, Victory lifts the ball into the box, Emerson heads away, Bergtoft takes control of it and swings it straight back into the box, where Tsigalko gets above García Calvo and heads past Antonio Prats for 1–0 to the Rainmakers after 14 minutes! And from there, we only improve: it’s a huge check in the box for this new system, as we tear through Atlético’s defensive lines again and again, only to find either stout defending or Antonio’s pratfalls to deflect the ball to safety. The only person who isn’t playing ball is Nikos Andrielos, perhaps feeling the after-effects of a night streaking through the city under the influence of Susan’s backpack, so when Simen Brenne goes down with a hamstring tear just before the break, I take the chance to also hook the Greek for Nuno Mata — and it’s a change that takes us safely to half time with a single goal advantage.
The truth is, the second half is simply more of the same. We look phenomenal here, dominating possession and only stopped from extending our lead by Prats, who saves from Recoba, Samba and Ronaldo within five minutes of the restart. Bergtoft then gets back in on the attacking action, hitting a ball into the stride of Cristiano 25 yards from goal. The wizard of Seville breaks forward, reaches the edge of the area, gets knocked off the ball by Contra, but Recoba whips the loose ball into the box first time — Samba reacts first! CHERNO SAMBA’S HEADER! IT’S THERE!! PRATS CAN DO NOTHING! IT’S 2–0 TO THE WET BANDITS!! Cherno Samba’s 5th goal of the season doubles our lead!
I can’t say enough about what a great performance this is, although Atléti are starting to show a bit of fight as we drift past the hour mark. Emerson forces Costanzo into a fine save down to his left, and I’m delighted to see that Fernando Correa — on as a substitute after not starting despite being their top scorer with 19 goals in 17 starts — blazes four clear chances either over or wide as we creep towards the end of the game. Eventually, however, the visitors do stain our goalsheets: with ten minutes to go, Fernando Torres does Fernando Torres things to take him past Victory, Bergtoft and Mata, and lays the ball on the plate for Catalin Munteanu to finish simply from close range. It should set up a grandstand finish, but it actually doesn’t — instead, my players retain the ball and manage the game out superbly to take three points from a very tricky tie. Trevor Steven must have taught them that, because it certainly wasn’t me. Either way though, what a result this is, and better still, we’re back to the top of the league… at least for the time being.
And that’s not all, because there’s just one more news item I think you’ll be interested to know about before we go. NY/NJ Metrostars have had a deal vetoed for a certain end-of-contract Belarusian, who decides to release himself on a free transfer. Perhaps I’ll have to consider going back to two AMCs after all…
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