Los Coladeros Episode 76: Goals Galore
We’re looking pretty good for the second group phase of the Champions League, but before we can return to dancing on the graves of Atalanta, Wisla and Västra, we’ve got two La Liga games against Mallorca (H) and Villarreal (A). Let’s plow through them and see how we look on the other side.
Ronaldo and Bonomi are both out injured for our first tie against the islanders, but thank goodness Mike Duff has recovered from injury, so he takes up his place alongside Burdisso in my back four. Tobros and Kalogeras complete my defence, while Mallorca have Samuel Eto’o lurking around in AMC where Raúl García will attempt to turn his legs into pulled pork. Petrov is in midfield alongside never-fit Kerr and Davies, who I’ve now set to No Training in the hope they can finally recover to 100%, and of course, Skalidis partners new best friend Albert Luque up front. They’ve been immense already this season, though Skalidis could do with a few more goals — he’s only got two in his eight appearances so far. It’s not for the want of trying; he had eight shots on target by himself against Alavés but only scored one. The flood will come.
We lose Petrov to injury on just nine minutes, but it allows me to put Tsigalko on in AMC ahead of Kerr and Davies in a 4–4–2 Diamond, and we proceed to run riot over Mallorca in the first half. The War God Tobros gets us off the mark with a towering header from a Kalogeras corner on 16 minutes, before a quickfire double from Skalidis puts us 3–0 up at the break — one a header from a Tsigalko centre, the other a left-footed drive from a Simon Davies through ball.
Albert Luque sulks in the dressing room at half time because nobody has given him any through balls to shoot from, so after a quick eye roll, I sigh and ask my midfield if they would care to give Albert a few shooting chances in the second half, if they can.
By the 65th minute it’s 5–0, and Luque has two: one from a Kalogeras free kick, and the other after Tsigalko and Skalidis combine to tee him up 20 yards from goal. He strides onto the layoff and smashes a shot high into the far corner, and with that, this game is long over. Mallorca fail to test Voulgaris in the whole game, García doesn’t get the credit he deserves for shutting Eto’o out of the game completely, but mustn’t grumble. This is a superb win to take us back into the middle of La Liga.
We lose Petrov for three weeks, but thankfully two of those are over an international break, so by the time we’re off to Villarreal, he’ll almost be fit again. Happy days.
Said international break yields no interesting news since all the games are friendlies, and before we know it, we’re packing our depth charges and Chuggering off to give the Yellow Submarine a good blowing… up. A good blowing up.
Kerr and Davies choose to stick with 87% fitness while Ronaldo is back from injury to replace Petrov in midfield. I briefly consider going back to the diamond that worked so well against Mallorca, but that feels more like a home tactic. Away, I’d like a bit more solidity.
I’m never happy to see the imposing figure of Pepe Reina lining up in nets for Villarreal, but he has an uncharacteristic off-day before leaving the field injured in the 43rd minute. By then, we’re already 2–0 up via Davies and Skalidis, and when his nervy-looking replacement, Soler, pulls on his gloves for the second half, my players bare their teeth and send him spiralling into therapy.
Kalogeras feeds Skalidis for 3–0 just after the break, with Soler conceding from the first shot he faces — then waits 15 minutes before doing the same thing again, this time latching on to a Davies centre to head down past the flailing keeper for his hat-trick. Soler barely has time to dry his eyes before Luque almost kills him with a volley from just inside the box that thunders past him for 5–0, and although Guayre pulls out a party trick to notch a consolation goal in the 90th minute, João Paiva — on for Skalidis — won’t even let him have the last laugh, as he collects a Raúl García header and drives a low shot past Soler for 6–1 at full-time. After our truly dreadful start to the season, we’re clawing our way back up the table; we’re now in 9th place with a game in hand. Villarreal started the day in third place — consider this a statement, King Louis.
Just a few days later, after several breakdowns and an entire night in a service station, we arrive back at La Cartuja with Chugger’s bumper scraping along the tarmac and Västra Frölunda already there, standing in the car park with their heads cocked at the sight of our war-trodden transportation. Yes, we might be La Liga champions, but we remember where we came from around here, okay?
Since we’re top of our Champions League group and Västra have shown themselves to be the weakest team of the four by some margin, I’ve decided to rotate the team a little today. Out come the perennially tired Davies and Kerr, who are now in pure fitness training with Trevor Steven (I tried to offer them both a leave of absence but the option isn’t available), and they’re replaced by Arteta and Bruno, with Ronaldo continuing on the left since Petrov is still nursing a hurty knee. I would have played Moukoko, Harbuzi and Iniesta in this game, but wouldn’t you know it, they’re all at 76% themselves. It’s almost like some unseen force is trying to stop us from winning things.
At the back, Bonomi returns from injury and replaces the generally underwhelming Burdisso, though he has had a couple of storming games amongst the 6s; perhaps he just needs more time to settle. Lizarazu captains the side from left back and I decide that Andrés Palop has been sufficiently patient to warrant a go in nets. João Paiva is given a run up front alongside Skalidis as Luque, who’s setting the media on fire with his recent form, is rested for the far tougher challenge of going away to Atalanta next week.
Our first two chances both fall to Paiva, who sadly proves he’s no Luque by missing the target on both occasions despite it being easier to score. I do love João and I always will, but Skalidis and Luque have set the standard around here, and neither he nor Tsigalko seem capable of stepping up to it.
It’s put into stark contrast by Västra forward Lars Nilsson, who I mentioned previously is a goal machine for the Swedes — and he takes his tally for the season to 27 goals in 26 games with a ridiculous winding run from his own half that takes out four of my players and then Palop with a stinging drive into the far corner for a highly unexpected 1–0 to the visitors. This was not exactly how I expected this to go.
Fortunately, there’s one man in my side who’s determined to make the most of a rare appearance in the famous silver and blue. After Västra keeper John Alvbåge saves from Skalidis, Ronaldo and Arteta, Skalidis gets a further chance that seems destined for the back of the net, but Alvbåge makes another crucial save — however, this time, young Bruno lumbers into the penalty area and smashes home the loose ball to equalise right on the stroke of half time.
I give my young team a bollocking at half time and it seems to do the trick; after just 13 minutes of the restart, we’re 3–1 ahead and looking good value for it, too. Mikel Arteta, who it feels like has been involved in everything we’ve done on the front foot in this game, picks up a Ronaldo pass from deep, shuffles forward, then curls a spectacular 25-yard shot into the top corner to give us the lead, then eight minutes later, he clips a ball into the box that Bruno heads down past the flailing Alvbåge to extend our lead with half an hour to play.
After that, we’re simply all over Västra, and it’s a miracle we don’t give them the Villarreal treatment. Alvbåge saves three more times from Skalidis, who just can’t quite get firing in Europe this season, but before long, the fourth goal does go in — via an unlikely source. Kibebe, Arteta and Bruno combine to clip the ball over for Mike Duff to crash a volley at goal from “long range” that Alvbåge, who must be knackered by this point, can’t prevent from rattling the back of the net for 4–1, and game over.
Almost. Tsigalko comes on for the closing stages and puts the ball in the net twice, only to see them both ruled out for offsides against Harbuzi who’s presumably too tired to get out of the way. Then, in the last minute, Västra launch a corner into the box after an excellent save from Palop, and someone called Jeffrey Aubynn volleys a goal back for our visitors but it’s far, far too late. Three games, three superb performances, by my count. I’ll take them.
And, in yet more good news, Atalanta’s win against Wisla means we are guaranteed to qualify from our group with two games to go, which is excellent. It means we can worry less about that trip to Italy and welcome Wisla to La Cartuja in the knowledge that a win against them means we’ll top the group going into the next phase. We pretty much couldn’t be in a better position. If only the La Liga table looked something like this…
Never mind. Based on recent results it’s only a matter of time before we’re tugging at the ankles of rampant Barcelona, who are still top with their 100% winning run intact and having only conceded once all season so far. It’s going to be a job, but I believe we can do it.
One thing we’re going to need in order to have a chance is a proper reserve right-back, and I’ve been out on the hunt. Kieron Dyer was sadly out of my price range even after I offered Newcastle everything I had, but a glance around some other Premier League clubs revealed a young man with a lot to prove after being told he’s surplus to requirements at West Ham.
Only too happy to take their rejects at a discount price (£2.5m), I haggle down his ridiculous wage and signing on fee demands to something approaching palatable, he argues a bit but eventually relents, and on the same day that Trevor Steven tells me that Giorgio Chiellini is showing signs of developing into a quality player for the club, I pretty much guarantee he’ll never play for us again with the confirmation of my newest signing, who’ll arrive in December. Bienvenidos a Sevilla, Shaun Wright-Phillips!
To celebrate, and since I’m feeling charitable, I decide to allow Ronaldo, Arteta and Bruno to continue in midfield for our forthcoming trip to the Royal Society after their excellent showings against Västra. Kerr and Davies are up to 93% fitness, which is their best condition so far this season — being literally whipped into shape by Trevor Steven appears to be working — but they don’t need to start here. I’ll save them for Atalanta. For now, I’m going to trust my youthful fringe stars to do the business. Not you, João.
We just about come out on top of an excellent, swashbuckling game that sees us hauled out of jail by our two hotshot strikers and a truly world-class goalkeeping performance from Antonis Voulgaris. Skalidis gives us the lead after just nine minutes, volleying Arteta’s knock-down past Thomas Sørensen for 1–0, but Sociedad’s superstar winger Simão smashes home an equaliser just before half time and we return to the dressing room level at 1–1.
Both teams have their chances and both goalkeepers are sturdy last lines of defence, but with just five minutes of the second half gone, Albert Luque — who was on a six and candidate to be subbed off — shows his quality by gathering a Sørensen save after García’s drive from the edge of the box, smashes a rebound shot in low, Sørensen saves again, but Luque won’t be denied, and rounds the prone keeper to tuck home his ninth goal of the season and restore our lead at 2–1.
After that, though, we are under the cosh, and Voulgaris pretty much single-handedly keeps us in the game. Simão, Kovacevic, Mendizábal, De Pedro and Alejandro all have efforts on target saved by our mountainous stopper, and after 94 terrifying minutes, we leave San Sebastián with all three points from a very even game.
Results elsewhere mean that win keeps us 9th in the table, but with two games in hand that could catapult us to second. Barcelona, I’m sorry to say, are dominant at the top of the table; eight wins out of eight, averaging just under three goals scored per game, and still only having conceded once all season. It’s the end of October now, by the way. I’m going to hug my drinks globe.
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