Los Coladeros Episode 84: The Old Lady and the Rainmakers
Okay everyone. It’s time to get aroused. We’re just two La Liga games away from our trip to the Delle Alpi, and I couldn’t be less ready or more excited.
Speaking of those two games, here’s how they go.
John Carew scores against us pretty much every time we face him, and his brace seems to have us sunk — but I’m taking credit for my changes on 71 minutes that see Tsigalko and Eldar come on up front in a switched-around trident alongside Skalidis, the Iceman scores to reduce the arrears and our Scrabble champion tees up Skalidis for a last-minute equaliser. If I had a plan, you might even say it was meant to happen that way.
I then send the reserves to Córdoba for our clash with La Liga’s bottom side, and to be honest, the 1–0 win we achieve doesn’t tell half the story. Their defence is outstanding, we create eleven chances, and Yaya Touré manages to convert one to give us all three points. I give Enrique Sáinz his debut in goal, the local lad come good — and he has nothing to do except take a few goal kicks since our hosts fail to muster any sort of effort on his goal, even off target. It’s a nice way to ease into playing for your boyhood club, I imagine.
Big shout out to Giorgio Chiellini at right back who manages possibly the first eight of his career with a key pass and two key tackles. I’ve got to say, although he was a bit of a joke signing, his attributes are rocketing up. Still can’t tackle, mind, but clearly is capable of occasionally playing well enough to not look totally out of his depth at this level.
That win puts Córdoba down, which I feel a bit bad about, and the four points we’ve achieved from those two matches means we’re guaranteed to finish in the top four since Valencia, in fifth, can’t catch us with three games to go. Barcelona and Real Madrid are taking the absolute piss out of the league this season, and nobody had a hope in hell of keeping up with them. I imagine we’ll finish some 20 points behind the Catalans once it’s all said and done, which is absurd, but that’s Spain for you.
And so aboard Chugger we climb for the long, winding, presumably mountainous drive to Turin. We’ve driven further this season for European fixtures, that’s for sure, but the 17-hour trip does give me plenty of time to try to figure out what the hell to do against the Old Lady.
Much like plenty of other sides we’ve encountered already this season, their squad list is a who’s-who of footballing legends. Let me read you some: Gianluca Pessotto at left-back. Fabio Cannavaro in the middle with Daniele Adani. A midfield of at least Gianluca Zambrotta, Sam Dalla Bonna, Alessio Tacchinardi and Adrian Mutu. They’ve also signed Ryan Giggs from Man Utd, as if they needed any help. And up front, my goodness — up front they usually play with two from Marco Di Vaio, David Trezeguet, and your hero and mine, Alessandro Del Piero. The truth is, there are plenty of others — those are just the ones I’m picking out for special mentions. Their squad is both absurd, and fully fit.
Okay then, olive branches. There must be some olive branches we can cling to. Well, first of all, they don’t have Gigi Buffon in goal since he’s left to make Barcelona’s already-impenetrable defence into one that’s only conceded 19 goals in 35 games, with just two defeats all season. So that’s good. They also didn’t really replace him, and their current starting stopper is homesick France U21 international Landry Bonnefoi, who’s valued at just £850k and doesn’t look up to snuff at all. The fact he’s only conceding a goal per game must be largely down to the defence in front of him rather than his own abilities; I reckon we’ve got a chance… if we can just break Cannavaro.
Another thing I notice from their squad stats — other than the fact that Trezeguet has scored 31 goals already this season and every single player on their roster with 2+ games has over 7.0 as their average rating — is that there isn’t a top assister. The honour falls to Guiseppe Colucci, a decent centre-mid, sure, but ten assists in 42 appearances shouldn’t exactly cleave our defence in twain. Notice my use of the word shouldn’t.
We enter the fragrant dressing rooms at the Delle Alpi and I have to pick my side, but in all honesty, it mostly picks itself. You all know who’s going to be in this team; the only question mark is over right-centre midfield since Simon Davies is injured, but a quick glance at my team’s fatigue even makes that an easy choice. Ronaldo and Iniesta, my top two picks for the role, are below 90% fitness — probably from Chugger’s uncomfortable seats — whereas Diego is at 100%. That makes it a no-brainer. The Brazilian starts.
All I want is an away goal and perhaps just a single-goal loss. I’d take that. If we lost 2–1, I’d be extremely confident that we could take them back to the Water Bowl and find a way to progress. Hell, we’ve somehow found a way everywhere else this season — why not here? Come on lads. They’re just an overpowered Notts County. We can do this.
We lose Diego to injury after ten minutes, which is just typical, but at least means I have an excuse to chuck the limping Ronaldo into the team since I wanted him in there anyway. Five minutes later, Juventus create their first chance of the match: Comotto gets away down the right and crosses for Del Piero to surely give the hosts the lead… but no! Voulgaris spreads himself like the mighty eagle and blocks the legendary Italian’s goalbound header! What a save, Voulgaris. I suspect we might need a few more of those today.
There’s a bit of roundaboutery in midfield from both sides right up until we reach the half hour mark — at which point, it’s time to sneak our first proper look at Bonnefoi. Petrov squares a pass for Mark Kerr to strike, but it cannons off Pessotto and out for a corner. Kalogeras takes a deep breath as he places the ball down in the quadrant… he runs up, whips it in, Tobros beats Cannavaro in the air! TOBROS BEATS CANNAVARO IN THE AIR EVERYONE! He plants a header back across the box… PETROV IS THERE!! STAN PETROV VOLLEYS AT GOAL!!
HHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEEEEERRROOOOOOOOOOOSS!
Stan Petrov gives us a 32nd minute lead, and even more crucially, we’ve scored an away goal in the Delle Alpi! What a start for the Rainmakers!!
The honest assessment is that it’s only some superb Juventus defending that prevents either Skalidis or Kerr from extending our lead as the half wears on, but by the time the referee’s whistle goes, both sides have had a shot on target, but most importantly, ours has gone in. It’s 1–0 to us at the break, and I can scarcely believe my eyes.
I consider my options. Do we go defensive? Do we go defensive and counter? We’re still on Attacking and no counter, as usual, but it seems to be working. No — don’t change it. Don’t blink. They want you to blink, go defensive, and eviscerate you second half. Don’t let it happen. Keep the pressure on. Keep it going. Just 45 minutes to go. Come on boys — you’ve got this.
I’m absolutely terrified to restart the game for the second half. Can’t we just go home now? The referee says no, and we’re underway again, with Juventus baring their teeth and switching to a more aggressive stance. I almost blink again, but my players don’t, and when Skalidis sees a rangy drive tipped over by Bonnefoi within ten minutes of the restart, I realise there’s no need to be concerned. We’re doing the right things. We just need to see this out.
The second half is racing by. Trezeguet fires wide from the edge of the box in the only real chance that Juventus see before I make my second change on 79 minutes: Luque has been quiet to the point of anonymity, so I pull him off (easy), replace him with Tsigalko, and put the Iceman in behind Skalidis to try to drag their defenders out of position for the last ten minutes. They’re going to come at us now, and hard.
Fabio Cannavaro picks up the ball on the halfway line and tries to beat Mark Kerr… and does. Okay. My team await the pass as Cannavaro charges at Raúl García… and glides past him. Right then. Can someone stop Cannavaro please? He heads right, towards Kalogeras, past Kalogeras, into the penalty area… Fabio Cannavaro? He advances on Voulgaris, shoots… and I honestly can’t believe it. Fabio f — king Cannavaro has just dribbled past half my team and smashed a worldie into the bottom corner for 1–1. It’s his first ever goal for Juventus, of course. What. How. Why? HOW?
Tsigalko has two chances to give us a vital, precious second goal in the last few minutes but, true to form, puts both of them wide when it looks easier to score, and after a pretty drab encounter, one good attack from us and an impossible goal from them, we’re coming away from Turin with an extremely useful 1–1 draw. It should be at least 2–0 to us, though. I can’t help feeling a little sick.
Utter, total bastards. I know I should be happy with a draw; I know I should. But I mean, jesus fuck, that goal from Cannavaro is about a million-to-one shot, and it just has to go in against us, doesn’t it? It’s textbook stuff. Draws from the jaws of victories. I’ve shaken my head so much I think it might fall off. We did, on the other hand, just make one of Europe’s best teams look very ordinary over 90 minutes, and at their place too. That’s got to count for something, even if I’m about to drink this diesel.
Sadly Barcelona draw the other massive semi 0–0 in Rome, which means they just need to get any sort of win at the Camp Nou and they’ll be into the final. I really hate them, and I really don’t want to play them ever again, but at this point, it’s most likely we’ll have an all-Spanish final. They certainly won’t stuff it up. We very well might.
Especially if we get a bunch of injuries before the second leg, and behold, Diego is out for two weeks from the first, then Raúl García goes down in training for a fortnight. Any more before the biggest game of our lives?
I don’t risk anyone in our La Liga game against Tenerife…
…which doesn’t go very well. Tonton uses his first team opportunity to get sent off for punching Lussenhoff in the face after 17 minutes, and from that point on, we’re demolished. Tenerife are mid-table and average as they come, but their two forwards Robiana and Butra are dynamite on their day, and this is one of them. We are, to a man, absolutely god-awful. Sáinz, in goal, actually has a reasonable game and does well to only let in four. My goodness, we are an utter shambles sometimes.
Fortunately Real Sociedad are in a race to the bottom with us, and in the contest for third and fourth, they’re even more terrible than we are — so with two games to go, and even despite that horrendous scoreline, we’re still somehow third in the table.
Enough of that, though — nobody is interested in the league. It’s all about the enormous zebra-print coach that’s just pulled into the La Cartuja car park. Juventus are here, and you know what happens: all my actually decent players return to the first team, I tell them to go out there and play their hearts out, all the way out of their chests if necessary — we just need to not totally stuff this up. There’s really not much more to it. The Ultras are rammed into the stadium and making enough noise to register on the Richter scale; if nothing else, lads, do it for them. They deserve this far more than you do.
We’re level at the halfway point, we have the away goal advantage — if we can just survive without giving them one (as it were), we will find ourselves in a bloody Champions League Final. That reminds me — everyone please light a candle for Roma in their second leg with Barcelona. Not because I think they’re going to get crucified at the Camp Nou; more for luck. I’d much rather play them in the final, if we get there, than those smug bastards from Catalonia.
Kibebe comes into DMC for the biggest game of his life in place of the injured Raúl García. Davies and Diego are both out, so I decide to plump for Iniesta on the right of my midfield three since Ronaldo has been pants the last few times he played, missing sitters left right and centre. The rest of the team is obvious to anyone who’s been unfortunate enough to watch us play this season. Come on boys. You’re 90 minutes from the promised land. Dig your heels in, flash your gnashers, and let’s bloody well do this.
Juve have gone all weird for the second leg for some reason, but it’s okay — at least we’ve got a chance of dealing with this. I’m extremely happy to see Mutu, Di Vaio and Giggs on the bench for the visitors, plus it also seems they’ve had a change of heart in goal, proving just how little confidence they have in either of their stoppers. I’ve no idea if Chimenti is better or worse than Bonnefoi; the only thing I definitely know is that he’s 35 and seems pretty past it. I did also think that about Rami Shaaban though, so what do I know.
Chimenti is into the action extremely early, saving a raker from Stan Petrov that’s destined for the far corner before he pushes it around the post… but the next action of the game is crucial. Oh my, it’s so vital, and it involves the reserve keeper yet again. Luque takes the ball, charges into the box, tries to go around Chimenti, but he wipes our Spanish international striker out as he tries to go by. Red card Chimenti, penalty Coladeros, and even better: Bangsbo, the Juventus caretaker manager, chooses to withdraw David Trezeguet and replace him with Bonnefoi. That’s the Old Lady’s top scorer and most dangerous forward player David Trezeguet, gone after 26 minutes to be replaced by a kid goalkeeper. It’s a bloody miracle is what it is.
Kalogeras has nerves of steel as he places the ball down on the spot, takes a deep breath, gives Bonnefoi the eyes…
HNNNNGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL COLADEROOOOSSS! Kalogeras converts the penalty, and with just 27 minutes on the clock, we’re a goal up and a man up against Juventus. I’m going to say it, you know: we will never have a better chance of reaching the Champions League final. There.
Juve are playing without a striker now, and it shows; it’s actually amazing we don’t extend our lead before half time. Skalidis goes on a mazy run and shoots from distance, but Bonnefoi pushes it out for a corner — and when Kalogeras whips it in and Tobros plants a header on target, it must surely double our lead. But no! Bonnefoi makes a point-blank wonder save, and that’s the last action of the half. Incredible stuff. I lead the players into the dressing room, wondering where Juventus are going to steal their totally undeserved equaliser from in the second 45…
The second half starts incredibly, with Bonnefoi continuing to belie his pretty terrible attributes with further world-class saves from Petrov and Iniesta that start to really, really get on my nerves — but then the game ticks over to 77 minutes with no commentary, and I realise the game is getting away from Juve. Skalidis is ripping them apart with his close control and dribbling, and we just need to shore ourselves up in key areas.
Mauro Bonomi is on a 6 yet again, which is extremely irritating; he’s obviously not a big game player, since he’s sacked off his performances in both legs against the Italians now. Perhaps he’s too loyal to his home country, I don’t know — either way, he’s hooked for Andrielos, while I let Eldar sit in midfield with a license to kill as a replacement for the flagging Iniesta, who’s run his veg off today and is down to 60% fitness.
The last 15 minutes are played at a canter. We’re all over Juve; they just can’t get out of their half. They have no outlets, and we camp inside their third. They give away free-kicks, Kalogeras delivers them, they barely scrape them away. The full-time whistle is a blessing for the Old Lady, and she will slink away into the night, wondering what might have been.
Your Wet Bandits, on the other hand? We’re going to the Champions League Final. Oh yes. You’d better bloody believe it.
Roma and Barcelona goes to extra time…
Of course they win. There we go then. It’s settled. The team that are currently 20 points ahead of us in La Liga will be our opponents in the biggest game of our careers. I am equal parts can’t wait and dreading it — but it’s what we’ve got to look forward to. Unclench yourselves for now, Ultras — you’ve got two solid weeks of pre-match drinking to get through.
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