Los Coladeros Episode 71: Primera
Winning 3–0 against a team in the D2B at home should be a walk in the park. It really should. The fact that we’re starting out 2–0 down from the first leg of our Copa del Rey semi-final is a matter for history; it was a bad day, we all have them… some more than others, sure, but the important thing is, we can overturn it today, no problem. Especially since I’m using our five-point cushion at the top of the league table as an excuse to play more or less my strongest team for the second leg; Skalidis was suspended against Bilbao so he is fit, firing, and ready to go. With him out there, I actually fear for Gandía today. Now, you horrible lot: no more of your dicking around. There’s a cup final on the line.
It only takes him seven minutes to breach Gandía’s defence. We should already be a goal up through either Petrov or Moukoko by that time, in truth, but after being denied by post and crossbar, Skalidis makes no mistake with a Kalogeras cross, drilling a low volley past Cepa and in for 1–0 on the night, and now 2–1 to the visitors on aggregate.
We’re absolutely mauling our visitors here; it’s less rabbits in the headlights, more baby deer in an all-lion nightclub. I’m absolutely, 100% here for this.
Yes, have some of THAT Batalla — and that roaring tackle leads directly to our second goal. Skalidis hits a vicious left-footed strike that Cepa saves, it’s hooked away, but Kibebe chests it down on the edge of the box and Yeboahs a swerving, dipping volley that flies past Cepa and almost takes the net with it. 2–0 on the night, and after just 16 minutes of the second leg, this game is now all square — and right now, it simply looks like a case of how many we beat them by. Annoyingly, Cepa puts in another top-class performance to keep us at bay until half time, but surely he can’t last until the final whistle.
The second half is a frustratingly even affair. Miranda re-emerges as Gandía’s main goal threat once again after punishing us in the first leg, and he twice beats Andrielos in the air to register headers on target, but Voulgaris, who’s getting a stellar payrise at the end of the season, saves both his efforts to maintain our two-goal lead. We’re still chasing the third, but Cepa is, quite honestly, being a real bastard in the Gandía goal — we shall not pass indeed. Skalidis manages three further shots on target, all of which he saves, and when he also parries another Simon Davies shot, plus efforts from Kerr and Moukoko, I start to worry that my first team are going to have to go through extra time.
The 90th minute arrives and I’m already planning on who I need to save for the league; we’ve got Atlético Madrid next, and I really can’t handle the prospect of losing my top stars from injury or fatigue. Just as I’m planning to withdraw Skalidis and Kalogeras to protect them from harm, Mike Duff bursts down the right flank, curls a cross to the far post, and would you Adam and Eve it, Anas Skalidis rises above David López to head into the top corner for 3–0 with the very last head-kick of the game!! MY HERO — we’re in the final of the Copa del Rey!!
And would you just look at who we’ve got in the final. It couldn’t be more perfectly set.
All of a sudden, contracts across Scandinavia only have six months to run, leaving me with some diamonds to poach. There’s one name in particular that I’ve got my eye on… well, both eyes. It is a very long name.
Oh you better believe it. Still only 20 and developing nicely, I know from experience that Eldar can make serious waves from that right-sided MC position, as well as AMC and right up top. A lovely versatile youngster to add to my collection, especially if I can flog Jonas Lundén for £4m or so in the summer — a contract is summarily dispatched. While I’m leaning provocatively over the fax machine, I’m surprised by a return beep — it’s from Middlesbrough manager Steve McClaren! Hi Steve, I shout into the paper tray — what can I do for you? What’s that? You want to bid £1.5m for Joleon Lescott?! Oh Schteve, your generosity truly spoils us. Of course you can talk to him — please, be my guest.
Right then. Atlético Madrid at La Cartuja. One of Spain’s premier teams, no doubt, but sitting a highly disappointing 13th in La Liga and today missing the defensive posture of terrible turncoat Jonathan Zebina (broken ankle) and the skillful stylings of Julen Guerrero (gash) (on his leg I mean). Fernando Torres ought to be setting the world and the pants of everyone in the first three rows on fire by now, but in actuality, he’s only notched five goals and one assist in 33 appearances this season; a pretty terrible return for a world-class striker. To be fair, his previous hopeless manager was playing him in central midfield for most of the year, but new jefe Miquel Soler has seen sense, so either Clint Hill or Nikolaos Tobros are going to have to keep him quiet again today.
Yes, that’s right — both my favourite centre-halves are back in the side. Voulgaris remains in goal, Kalogeras and Duff are my fullbacks, and Kibebe will do all the things he does in DMC. In midfield, Moukoko remains alongside Kerr and Davies in the absence of Ronaldo through injury and Petrov through suspension, while Tsigalko has gone and bruised something in training so he’s also out — meaning Bruno and Skalidis are more or less the only players I trust to start in attack and actually do something. Jury’s still out on Bruno to be fair.
Atlético line up with a standard 4–4–2 and although the commentary notes that they’re “defending in numbers”, I fear a red herring. However, the opening salvos are all fired by my players, notably Moukoko, who tests Antonio Prats twice inside the first ten minutes. Kerr then clips the bar with a header from Kalogeras’ cross, before a sudden Skalidis blitz fires us into the lead. There’s no commentary on this one — we simply go 24, 27, SKALIDIS SCORES! 28. No idea what happened, but no matter — we’re a goal up in this crucial run-in tie.
There are then ten minutes of chaos. Kibebe closes down Sales tremendously to force him to shoot over the bar, before Skalidis heads at the Atleti goal but Prats gets down to turn it behind. Kalogeras chips his corner straight to Santi, who wellies it the length of the field, and Chema takes it down before firing low past Voulgaris for the equaliser. However, undeterred, my players continue to be heads-and-shoulders better than our guests, and it only takes five minutes for our lead to be restored. Tobros clears a dangerous Atleti attack to the left flank where Kalogeras greets it, charges down the line, and as he’s done so often this season already, fires a killer pass into the box that Skalidis simply has to divert past Prats, and just like that, we’re back in front — 2–1 at the break.
The second half is a different story. Atlético are suddenly the team we all know they can be, and for 15 minutes, the commentary is all red and white — but they can’t get through to Voulgaris. However, at that point, things go a little bit wild for the second time in the match. First, Ramos skins Duff alive, which looks painful, before delivering a cross into the box that Javi Moreno wins and plants past a motionless Voulgaris for the equaliser, but from kick-off, Santi barges Bruno to the ground, Davies smashes the free-kick at goal, but it takes a massive nick off the left ear of David Charcos, spins past Prats, and in — for 3–2! It’s an own goal by Charcos, but you won’t find an Ultra inside La Cartuja who cares!
I go into full lockdown mode for the last half-hour. Bruno is highly disappointing again, so he’s hooked for Harbuzi, while I replace Kerr — who’s been unlucky not to score, to be honest — with Brenne, and shove everyone except Skalidis in midfield. I probably should introduce my DMCs to hand out a bit of roaming violence, I realise later, but no matter. Atlético come at us a few times but Clint Hill wins 7/7 of his tackles, three key, and there’s no getting through him today. In the end, after two wild flurries of activity, a very weird game ends 3–2 to the good guys. Another incredibly important three points are officially on the board.
Barcelona have stuffed it! BARCELONA HAVE STUFFED IT AT HOME TO VALENCIA! Real Madrid lost as well, but they were long gone anyway — WE’RE EIGHT POINTS CLEAR!!
My, my. Would you just take a look at that. Four games to go, eight points separating us from our closest rivals… it’s glorious. Just glorious. All this pain and misery over the last few weeks might just be worth it after all. And to celebrate, I agree Joleon Lescott’s £1.5m move to Middlesbrough, marking the end of a short and hopeless stay with us, and a tidy £1m profit. Lovely stuff.
And the following day, there’s even better news.
Oh yeah. Eldar is coming. What a time to be alive!
And the good news isn’t even over, because potential world-class Boca Juniors centre-half Nicolas Burdisso signs a new deal with the big mouths, but inserted into his contract…
Now that is a sight to behold. He will be ours this summer — mark my words.
Okay. Right. We’ve got Sevilla down the road next, then those rat bastards Valladolid at La Cartuja. Win both of those, and the title is ours. We could win the title against Valladolid. If that’s not incentive, I don’t know what is. Plus, if we were to win our next two games, we’d secure the title before the Copa del Rey final — meaning we can go all guns blazing at Betis with no fear of having to save people for the league afterwards. There’s a lot on the line as Chugger slowly backfires his way around the narrow city streets towards the Ramón Sánchez Pizjuán, picking up several large new scratches and losing a wing mirror along the way. Seriously, don’t drive in this city.
The tight corners are about as welcoming as we can expect our opponents to be today. After a pretty dreadful 03/04 campaign, Sevilla are squarely back in the saddle and are currently occupying the fourth Champions League spot, five points ahead of our former title rivals Valencia. Led by, and I can hardly believe I’m saying this, Roque Júnior in the heart of their back four, they’re a formidable side from back to front; the only thing they’re really missing, if you ask me, is a killer goalscorer.
Which is the one thing we have got. Anastasios Skalidis, 23 in 21 now, is the very definition of a goal machine. Naturally, he starts up front today with Tsigalko behind him since nobody has done a particularly stand-out job in the AMC position; it might be one that I, once again, have to invest in this summer. Then again with Albert Luque and Eldar Hadzimehmedovic already arriving in mid-June, perhaps a return to a front two will be the order of the day. We’ll try it out on our extended pre-season tour of Wales.
The first 30 minutes of the game are all jabs at arm’s length, apart from a single Mark Kerr header that Antonio Notario gets up to tip over the bar. Otherwise though, both defences are standing firm and both goalkeepers only have routine crosses and sweeps to deal with.
After the half-hour mark, the game suddenly springs to life. Skalidis fires wide under pressure from Roque Júnior; Gallardo smashes a bouncing ball goalwards and Voulgaris does well to push it away. Duff then crosses to Tsigalko, who heads at the far corner, but Notario pushes it away again, before saving another header from Tobros from the resulting corner. Our pressure is building as the half-time whistle approaches; Kalogeras puts the ball down for yet another corner kick. He whips it into the box, Clint Hill is away from his man! CLINT HILL RISES!!
HNNNGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEROS!! CLINT HILL’S SECOND GOAL OF THE SEASON! It’s 1–0 to the good guys, five minutes before half time!!
The second half starts just like the first ended: with your heroes on the front foot. Moukoko and Tsigalko combine to lay off for Simon Davies to smash a swerving drive at goal that Notario tips over for a corner. Kalogeras puts it in, Skalidis and Tsigalko can’t get the ball out of their feet, and Notario goes down bravely to claim the loose ball. Skalidis then skins Júnior and slaps the outside of the post with a shot from just inside the box, and right now, the second goal looks only moments away…
Sevilla suddenly break. Prieto puts a ball down the line for Jesuli to run at Duff, beat him, and whip an undefendable cross into the box that Reyes greets with a flick of his left foot, and just like that, it’s 1–1. Totally against the run of play, you’ve got to say — but it marks a watershed moment in the game.
Now, we’re all over the place and Sevilla are picking us off. I withdraw Moukoko, who’s struggling, and introduce Brenne, more of an all-rounder, to the mix. It makes very little difference, and in fact, we’re now only being kept in the game by the heroics of Voulgaris, who saves from Jesuli and Reyes in a period of sustained Sevilla pressure. Skalidis looks well out of sorts, not helped by the fact that we can’t get the ball to him, and on 77 minutes, the inevitable happens: David takes a short corner, Garcé runs it into the box and crosses along the six-yard line, and Marcos Sequeiros taps it home fr 2–1 to the home side. It’s a complete turnaround, and a disaster for us.
I throw Cherno into the fray, up front with Skalidis and Tsigalko for the last 15 minutes or so, but it makes no odds. We can’t get the ball to them; Sevilla have taken it and won’t give it back, like a bully in the local park. The game ebbs and peters away from us, and we’re forced to eat a horrible defeat to our local rivals. Thank goodness for that Barcelona loss last weekend — hopefully, this might not matter. Still though, ouch… my pride.
Oh there’s good news. Well, there’s good and bad news. The good news is that Barcelona shit the bed in Mallorca, going down 2–1 to a winner from former Real Madrid man Samuel Eto’o — that’s got to sting. As a result, despite that loss,we retain our eight-point lead and can still win the title next week against Valladolid… the bad news, of course, is that we could have won the whole thing at the Ramón Sánchez Pizjuán and enjoyed the satisfaction of thrusting the trophy into the faces of our local rivals. Still, though — Valladolid. That could be very sweet indeed.
Valladolid have just beaten Real Madrid 2–0 at home to put a dagger right through their hearts, as well as relegating them to fourth in the table following our gifting of three points to Sevilla. You’re welcome.
I decide to allow both Nuno Mata and Jamie Victory leave on free transfers at the end of the season, to UD Leiria and Huddersfield Town respectively. I can’t attract any cash bids for either of them, but both are surplus to requirements — so I figure I should let them continue their careers at clubs where they might actually play. The inbound Bixente Lizarazu will make Victory obsolete, while Mata has never really developed into the player I wanted him to be, so a return to Portugal and the shearing of his £4k per week wages seems like the best idea — otherwise he’d be hanging around for the next two years like that smell I occasionally get from the sewers near my apartment.
The dangerous thing about our next opponents is the fact that they’re fighting for their lives at the bottom of the table. They’re sitting very uncomfortably in 18th, four points from safety, so while they aren’t doomed, it’s not looking good — and they need everything they can get.
I should end things here since I’m well over my quota, but to hell with it — we could win the league. What kind of monster would stop now?
Stilian is back for what could be our victory parade, so he’s back in the team at the expense of Moukoko, but otherwise, we’re as we were. I feel good. Defeat will spur us on to bigger and better things. We can lift the title in front of our own fans, which is what we wanted all along, honest. We look good. We smell fantastic. We go again.
Break out the bunting and sound the air horns, it’s time to get this party well and truly underway! Valladolid provide exactly the sort of opposition we want on the day where a win would see us lift the championship trophy: one that provides only a token resistance to our dominance coming forward. Nikolaos Tobros, with his nickname reinstated, catapults us into a fourth-minute lead with a towering header from Kalogeras’s corner, before our young left-back collects his 20th assist of the season with yet another delivery from wide that this time, the Iceman greets with a diving header for 2–0 after 21 minutes.
Valladolid are all over the place, and although striker Sergio Pachón tries to do everything by himself with two raking efforts on target that Voulgaris saves, as the half time whistle looms, Kibebe takes the ball down deep in midfield and takes several lengthy strides through midfield before serving the ball up with meat and veg for Tsigalko to crash, on the volley, past Bizzarri and home for 3–0 at half time. The Estadio de La Cartuja is absolutely bouncing as the players enter the tunnel for half time.
I’m already preparing my victory speech and pouring myself a celebratory Old Fashioned as the players restart the game for the second half. I’d like to thank Susan, Trevor, Giannis and Anastasios for making all this possible… yes, that sounds about right. The game ticks over the hour mark with us on the ball and Valladolid scampering around after us to very little effect, so with that in mind, I withdraw Skalidis and Tsigalko to save them for the Copa del Rey final next week, and also give Tonton a run in place of Simon Davies. I’d like to tell you they all mark the occasion by doubling our lead, but although Kibebe and Petrov do their best, three is all we’re getting — but three is more than enough. We’ve bloody well done it, Ultras. Los Coladeros are the champions of Spain!!
Of course, the Spanish FA won’t let us take even a moment to enjoy it. I hate them so much. In fact, I hate them to the extent that I might relieve myself in the trophy and leave it on the doorstep of their headquarters the next time we’re in Madrid.
Never mind though. Caaaampeooooooones, campeooooones, olé, olé, olé!
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