Los Coladeros, Episode 63: Challengers
I try to keep the players’ new year celebrations to a minimum, but who am I kidding — we’re six points clear at the top of La Liga and into the second phase of the Champions League. There’s no stopping this party. I at least manage to convince them that we should have the party on board Chugger and hire a driver to take us around Seville’s best night spots — though inevitably, Susan arrives with her trademark jelly shots that mean by midnight I’m at the back singing Sweet Caroline with her, Trevor Steven and the English lads. Marcel Desailly turns down most of what’s offered his way, but clinks glasses with Jorge Campos as the clock strikes twelve. Mark Kerr grips his whisky glass with silent rage. I’ve got no idea where Ronaldo, Mata and Pinheiro have all gone — as long as it’s not the Algarve, I don’t mind. We’ve got Valladolid tomorrow.
After a night of sleep broken by feverish dreams of Geovanni blasting shot after shot into my increasingly pulped nose, I snort myself awake in Spencer Field’s lap. Chugger’s interior is ruined, bodies are everywhere, and there’s a smell in the air I can’t bring myself to describe. Checking my watch, I realise there’s only four hours until our kick-off this afternoon… and we’re away. Driver! To Valladolid, fast as you can!
For those of you that have joined us throughout this adventure so far, you’ll recall that I hate Valladolid. They were our mortal nemeses in the Segunda Division, running us all the way to the end and almost farting in the faces of our promotion charge. Now they’re in La Liga with us, and despite barely spending any money, they’re still doing pretty well. They’ve fallen to 15th with some poor recent results but they still boast the players that almost drove me to drink lighter fluid a couple of years ago, most of all goalkeeper Albano Benjamin Bizzarri, who’s arguably one of the world’s best goalkeepers based on how he always seems to play against us.
For our part, it’s a similar-looking side to recent games. Big Clint Hill is back from injury, so he’ll partner Joleon Lescott for the first time in what I hope will be the partnership that anchors our Champions League charge. Kalogeras is suspended for four games after trying to kill a man last week, and Jamie Victory has picked up his customary new years knock, so John Welsh — who’s recently declared himself unable to settle in Spain — fills in at left-back. Ben Kibebe is my most trusted sergeant for DMC at the moment, especially while Raúl García is being welded back together, and my midfield three and front two must come as no surprise. I’ve given Mark Kerr a free role today in the hope it galvanises some sort of performance out of him. I can’t tell you how disappointed I’ve been with him so far, considering he’s meant to be one of the world’s best. Maybe taking the shackles off will help.
Ana Skalidis needs just 90 seconds to skin Ojeda and force Bizzarri into his first save of the day, and to be honest, things look ominous for our former greatest rivals. Skalidis goes to the next level ten minutes later and attempts to chip the home keeper from the edge of the box, but he’s alert enough to tip it over for a corner that Joleon Lescott heads against the crossbar. It’s a good start — but we aren’t going to have it all our way. Valladolid strike back with efforts from Artigas and Barbarin, but Voulgaris repays my faith with four superb saves to keep the scores tied at the break.
Second half, Valladolid make all three changes within ten minutes of the restart that throw them all out of sorts. After Voulgaris makes one more excellent block, Kerr breaks away with the ball, and Valladolid don’t see it again for the rest of the game. Kerr, then Tsigalko, then Skalidis, then Ronaldo all see efforts saved by Bizzarri, and I’m overcome by a crippling bout of déjà vu. I remember this being the way it went in the Segunda, and I don’t like it one bit — especially as I can see Valencia and Real Madrid are playing out a 0–0 draw in their game, which — if it stays that way — would give us a golden chance to extend our lead at the top. We just need a breakthrough.
I make my textbook 65th minute substitution, and it’s a little controversial. Tsigalko has been reasonably quiet today; perhaps he’s threatened by the presence of Skalidis, who’s already completed seven dribbles and had four shots on target by himself in a spectacular, virtuoso display. Either way, he’s off and young Bruno is on, as Mike Duff lines up a free-kick on the right. He swings it in, Bruno gets his head to it and knocks down for Skalidis — Skalidis shoots! Saved by Bizzarri… but Ronaldo is there! RONALDOOO!!
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEROS! Instant impact from my substitute, yet another Skalidis effort saved by the superhuman Bizzarri, but even he can’t stop CR7 from crashing home the rebound, and at long last, we’ve got the lead!
Kerr and Bruno then combine for Skalidis to drill an effort just over the bar, and there’s no question which team is on top now. Hill and Lescott aren’t having vintage games, though, and Valladolid still worry me with their pace on the counter, so my final two subs are, once again, both at centre-half. Tobros and Desailly come on for the final 15 minutes, and in truth, they shore up our back line fantastically. Desailly, in particular, is in full Rock mode to block-tackle two Valladolid forward moves, one of which results in Juan Manuel Peña to boil over and punch him right in the chops. Desailly barely moves, and replies with narrowed eyes and a hard stare, but the referee intervenes to show the Valladolid defender a red card, they’re down to ten with ten minutes to go, and this game is surely all but over.
Tobros takes the free-kick quickly before Pepe Moré can reshuffle his team. He finds Bruno, the Brazilian squares into the box, and Mark Kerr rampages through a disoriented home defence to thunder home his third goal of the season for 2–0, game over. It’s been a wonderful cameo from Bruno, an outstanding individual performance from Skalidis who, once again, could have had four goals on another day, and a potential banana skin is avoided. Plus, Real Madrid got a late winner against Valencia, so it’s even better news: they’re up to second, but we’re nine points clear.
Post-match, there’s transfer news. I’ve liked the look of Preston’s Dickson Etuhu, and with his contract expiring, I sent over an offer — and he’s taken it over their renewed deal. He’s a bit of a monster at just 22 years old, and I can tell you now, I’d swap Bergtoft and Nuno Mata for him if I could. I bloody wish I could. However, for zero of your Euros, he’s inbound in the summer. Good little pickup, this.
I also agree Hot Prospect terms for Spanish U21 international left-back Pablo Daniel Brandán from Alavés. I know we’ve got Bixente coming, but that’s just for one season — and hopefully, with a little time under his learning tree, young Pablo can provide some decent competition for Kalogeras in a couple of years’ time. One for the future, for sure, and another fabulous freebie.
We’ve got D2’s Real Unión in the Copa del Rey next, then a massive title six-pointer against Valencia at La Cartuja. Despite being nine points clear I’ve got no appetite whatsoever for taking my foot off the pedal in the league, so it’ll be my reserve string that will head to the Basque country to take on the Txuri-beltz. Kalogeras is suspended in the league so he can play in the cup, Costanzo is fit again and could use the practice, I’m keen to see how Bruno does in actual midfield, and the Greek salad will mix it up at centre-back. God help us.
Just kidding, we were fine. There were some hairy moments that caused me to take off Costanzo as he dropped to a six, though I see the game engine has upgraded him to a seven just to make me look like a dick, but otherwise, we ripped through Real Unión time and time again, and it’s a miracle the scoreline doesn’t look safer. Captain Arteta led by example with a goal and an assist, and in fact, we were so dominant that everyone in my starting lineup except Kalogeras managed to have at least one shot on goal — remarkable considering he’s our set-piece taker. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We won, we were mostly convincing, we should have had more, we’re into the third round of the cup.
Post-match, I receive a number of £2.5m bids for John Welsh, who I have unfortunately had to transfer list after he declared himself unable to settle in Spain. I really don’t want to lose him, though I can’t have him moping around the squad and upsetting any of my more important players — but I’m also not accepting offers that low. I tell all of them I want £5m or he stays put.
We’re then drawn away to D2B’s Binéfar in the third round of the cup, which is super news. In fact, looking at the draw, the cup could be ours to lose. All the big guns have already been spectacularly knocked out, including Barcelona, Real Madrid, and half the other teams in La Liga. Valencia and Betis are still involved, but they play one another in round three, and all the other La Liga sides are away too. The treble is on!
Everyone refuses my idea that John Welsh should be worth £5m, and on the eve of the Valencia game I’m delighted to hear it, because Mike Duff has gone down with an extremely untimely shin injury that has left me with no senior full-backs apart from the wantaway Englishman. Unfortunately I’m left with little choice but to play Clint Hill at left-back and bring Desailly back into the mix against our current closest rivals for the La Liga title, who enter this tie with virtually no injury worries of their own — must be nice. The one piece of good injury news is that Stilian Petrov is back, so he retakes his place in midfield at the expense of Ronaldo. I love young Ronnie, but for this game in particular, I’d prefer a bit more steel across the centre. Tobros troubles me enormously, but he does make the most tackles per game (4.4 average), so I decide to let him sit in the middle and probably mark Djibril Cissé this afternoon. Fingers crossed and arses clenched, everyone.
It takes 22 minutes for the game to see its first goalmouth action, and you won’t be surprised to hear it’s a Skalidis snapshot that Santiago Cañizares pushes away and Wörns hoofs downfield — but the signs are promising. There’s no Cissé up top for the visitors, who prefer Salva and Alieu (i.e. John Carew) up front together — and it’s Carew who almost opens the scoring with a bullet header from Salva’s cross, but Voulgaris parries to safety. Carew is then caught offside as Valencia attack once more, and Tobros puts the ball down. He spots Skalidis over the top, clubs the free-kick forward, Ana takes a touch into the Valencia box — he’s clear on Cañizares! SKALIDIS!!
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEEERROOOOS!! ANASTASIOS SKALIDIS MAKES IT 1–0 TO THE GOOD GUYS! The Ultras are going nuts in the stands! We’re leading Valencia!!
From kick-off, we’re in trouble. Kily Gonzalez takes the ball and destroys almost my whole team, rounding Skalidis, Welsh and Kibebe on his way to crossing for Carew to finally head home — but it’s disallowed for offside against Salva, and we maintain our lead. It’s a bit of a let-off, for sure, but let’s not ignore the fact that Skalidis has two further efforts on target by himself that Cañizares needs to be in top form to keep out, and as we reach the break, we’re on top, and our noses are in front.
On 52 minutes Skalidis is back at it again, slapping a header against the crossbar from Welsh’s cross, then testing Cañizares twice more with another close range header, then a drive from just inside the box. Honestly, Skalidis is so consistent with his efforts on target it’s a miracle he doesn’t score five goals every weekend. At the other end, Carew is literally and figuratively the biggest threat Valencia have, winning pretty much every header inside our penalty area but constantly finding Voulgaris in sparkling form to deny him the goal that, to be honest, he probably deserves.
On 72 minutes I make my first changes. Tsigalko and Petrov have been quiet today, so I decide to give Valencia two prancing tits to worry about for the final 20 minutes as Ronaldo and Bruno enter the fray as their replacements. Bixente Lizarazu, our sleeper agent, does his job superbly and is eventually withdrawn for Fábio Aurélio, and with ten minutes left, Desailly pops a ball down the right, John Welsh stretches to reach it, chests it down, lobs it inside, and Anas Skalidis simply clatters it towards goal on the volley from way, way out — Cañizares is caught out, the ball clangs into the top corner off the inside of the post, and my goodness, it’s an absolute golazo from Skalidis for 2–0, game over… we’re gonna win the f — king league!
Real Madrid disappointingly overcome Mallorca 3–0 at the Bernabeu to keep the gap at nine points… but you know, mustn’t grumble. Nine points. Maybe we should celebrate new years every weekend…
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