Los Coladeros, Episode 48: Money Money Money
We’ve got three tough games ahead to take us into mid-March: away at Deportivo, Celta Vigo at home, then the premier Seville derby against Real Betis at the Manuel Ruiz de Lopera. That game is going to be even more massive than it normally is; those spiteful green bastards could skewer our title hopes if they don’t let us win at their place.
Shouldn’t be thinking about that, though, because first up is a not-to-be-overlooked trip to A Coruña to face a mid-table Deportivo side that, realistically, have the firepower to be challenging for Champions League spots. I’m extremely grateful to see that Martín Palermo and Jorge Andrade are injured and César is suspended, robbing them of three otherwise guaranteed starters — but even without them, would you look at the state of this squad.
Hipsters from Shoreditch to Hoxton are wearing Molina, Acuña, Bassedas, Djalminha, Abreu and Diego Tristán shirts to their local artisan craft breweries, and it’s easy to see why. Tristán, in particular, is a monster in the early 2000s, and my scouting team tell me that they rate 14 of the players in their squad at either four or five stars out of five. As if the Riazor wasn’t already intimidating enough.
While I’m tempted to make changes, I eventually decide to keep the same team that took Atletico Madrid apart last weekend. Álvaro Recoba’s form has been patchy since he agreed his summer move to Celta Vigo, but he’s still the best left-sided CM option I’ve got at the moment, I reckon. A time will soon come where I swap him out for Lundén on a more regular basis if he keeps posting 6s, but for now, El Chino’s magic wand can pull a few more tricks out of the bag. I hope.
Deportivo come out with jabs right from the opening bell, but we’re the first ones to land a blow. Molina pushes a Bergtoft shot over the bar, Victory lifts the corner into the box, Manuel Pablo clatters Samba to the ground… PENALTY! Recoba takes the ball and my faith in him, places all of it down on the spot, and nestles it into the top corner for 1–0 to the Wet Bandits in just the 8th minute!
Ronaldo then blazes a shot just over the bar from Tsigalko’s knock down before Samba clips the top of the bar with another rangy drive, and it appears that we’re on top — but looks can be deceiving. Unfortunately for us, Deportivo right-back Jon ‘Ford’ Kortina has never scored a goal for the Branquiazuis, so when he gets the ball deep inside his own half, it comes as no surprise to see him use all 10 of his Dribbling to tear past Bergtoft, Tobros and Mata on his way to smashing a low drive past Costanzo and bringing the game back to 1–1 with Depor’s first chance of the match. He’s a special talent, I guess.
You know who else doesn’t score very often? Capi. Recently arrived from those green bastards down the road having started there as a youth player, and with only 18 goals in six and a half years as a professional despite being an AMRC, he spots an opportunity to put a dagger through my heart at the near post less than ten minutes later as he meets a José cross with a bullet header that rings past Costanzo to give the hosts a 2–1 lead with both their efforts on goal. Most of my defensive players, including my keeper, are on 5s. Tsigalko is back to his sadly familiar territory of blasting shots off target from clear-cut positions. We’re 2–1 down at half time. If I was a better manager, I’d probably know what to do about this rot.
As it is, I leave the players for the first ten minutes of the second half to see if they can redress the humiliation, but while my attacking players are doing their best only to see their efforts thwarted by the gigantic Molina in Deportivo’s nets, my defenders are failing to shift off their appalling match ratings — so with most of the half left to run, I hook all the failures and pray their replacements can withstand a bit more pressure. The truth is that they barely have any pressure on them; Deportivo really aren’t creating a lot other than long-range shots that scream into the Riazor, while we are starting to build pressure — but can’t get past Molina. He goes on to save further efforts from Samba and Tsigalko, but an upsetting performance eventually finishes with a desperate defeat. My touchline vidiprinto tells me that Barcelona have only managed to draw away at Celta, meaning that a win today would have taken us top of the league with no games in hand to remove us. My defenders and goalkeeper, with an assist from Molina, have shafted me here, and it’s a sickener.
I’m sorry to say it, but my young centre-halves are being found out at the top level. By both Recent Form and Average Rating, Nikolaos Tobros and Nikos Andrielos are two of our worst players with 6.87 and 6.91 respectively. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that a title-winning side is built on central defenders that post a 7.5+ average rating at the end of the season. Look at Barcelona right now; their central defenders with over 30 appearances are Thuram (7.74), Panucci (7.59) and Puyol (7.28). Add a couple of goalscorers to those sorts of numbers and the title is in the bag. Suddenly, adding a shithouse defender to our ranks rises to the top of my priority pile.
Sadly, doing so is going to be a tough ask. The board have given me my monthly appraisal, and they’re happy with my performance and the team’s position in the league… but they’ve finally spoken to someone in the finance team, and it’s not great news. I’ve basically worked us into a position where we need to finish high in the league just to stay alive as a club, unless any rich Ultras come forward to relieve us of our plight. Why did I rip all those seats out of La Cartuja when we first moved in? We’re barely making any money from gate receipts in our 13,000 capacity stadium, and that lack of income is going to send us into liquidation. Not all those ageing, overpaid mercenaries I signed. Definitely not. It’s the stadium’s fault, yes siree.
I cancel my contract offer to Sergey Nikiforenko in the wake of this news; adding another £11k per week to the wage bill in a position where we really don’t need any more players doesn’t seem like a good idea any more. I also re-list all my transfer listed players, but to no avail; it’s just far more difficult to sell players from Spain than it is from England. When I transfer listed a player at Rushden, two or three clubs would immediately show their teeth and I could pretty much guarantee cash. Here, I’ve had players on the list for two whole seasons with no biters. I need biters! BITE ME, YOU ASSHOLES!
Unfortunately I remain unbitten until Celta Vigo arrive to try to put us down once and for all, and I shuffle my starting team accordingly. Tobros, Mata and Costanzo are slashed from the side, replaced by Tsikitsiris, Lucic and Pinheiro — who I’m not sure are really any better, but what can I do. David Batty is now my default DMC ahead of Bergtoft, who should be decent but is actually consistently disappointing, and I also make a bold call in midfield as Rui Baião comes out of the darkness to replace Recoba, of all people, on the left of my central three. I’ve been stung by that Deportivo defeat, and I want a response. These might be the players to provide it… or we might be mid-table by April. Let’s find out, shall we?
I do get a response. Back in front of the frothing Ultras at La Cartuja, my changed side runs riot over Celta in the first half, limiting them to no shots of any kind and having a stunning six on target — although we only manage to score one. Twas ever thus. That comes from our third effort on goal, and while the first is saved by Cavallero and pushed to safety, the second, from a Cherno Samba header, is too hot to handle, and Mikel Arteta glides in to crash the loose ball into the roof of the net from five inches.
1–0 up and rampant after just ten minutes, Celta are roadkill in our wing mirrors as Arteta heads over from a Ronaldo cross, Tsigalko drives wide from distance, Duff bends a shot over the bar and Victory clips the outside of the post from a free-kick in a spell of pressure I could barely have dreamed of — if only we can get a few more on target. Samba then hits the post from another Arteta pass, before we finally test Cavallero again: this time Rui Baião breaks through midfield and floats into the box for Tsigalko to head down, but the visiting keeper pushes it out for a corner before punching the dead ball away to the edge of his box. Unfortunately for him, that’s not far enough, as Victory gathers and slashes a pass to Samba, who rifles a dipping shot at goal that Cavallero has to parry out of the top corner — and minutes later, Ronaldo crosses for the Great Man to head at goal again, but miraculously, Cavallero saves once more — but this time the rebound falls to Baião!! WHAT a challenge from Contreras on the line to deny the Portuguese his first senior goal for the Wet Bandits — and that’s half time. Unbelievable stuff.
What a first half performance that is, and I tell the players as much when they come in for the break. Each of them receives a firm, complimentary slap on the buttocks and instructions to do more of that in the second period — and to their credit, that’s exactly what they do. Moments into the half Gustavo Lopez puts a lump in my throat with a free-kick that looks bound for the top corner with Pinheiro stranded, but clips the frame of the goal and goes over — thank f — k — but beyond that, it’s another dominant half of football from the Rainmakers. Even David Batty is getting in on the action with a swerving drive from the edge of the box that Cavallero tips over the bar just before the hour mark, and just after it, Ronaldo is forced off the field with an injury that sees Jonas Lundén take his place on the right of my midfield three.
Soon after, the goal frame is taking another pounding courtesy of an Arteta drive, a Victory free-kick and a Samba header, and I’m becoming both deeply impatient for our second goal and nervous at the prospect of Celta’s first two shots going in and causing me to develop a sudden hernia in my technical area. Luckily for my loins, Mikel Arteta has grasped the mantle of Rebound King for this game at least, and when Rui Baião swaps passes with Tsigalko and smashes a shot that Cavallero can only parry once again, the young Spaniard is there to mop up the rebound and double our lead at last.
While the players are celebrating on the pitch I swap Tsigalko and Samba, who are working hard but not giving us the end product we need, with Recoba and Batistuta for the last 20 minutes — and within seconds of the restart, the two combine to make the game safe. Batistuta creaks forward with the ball at his toes, he’s block-tackled by Contreras, but Recoba recovers it and sets off down the left, before crossing to the near post where Batistuta has just about arrived to crash a shot off the inside of the post for 3–0, and game over. What a response that is.
Ronaldo is out for a month and Barcelona beat Betis 1–0 at the Camp Nou to retain their spot at the top of the pile, but Real Sociedad — the newest interlopers into the top three — go down 4–2 at Zaragoza to lift us back into second place. Then, Barcelona go and win their Saturday game — 1–0 away at Málaga — to increase their lead at the top to six. We might have a game in hand on them now, but it’s Betis away next in a game that is more must-win than ever.
Man, how much is that loss at Deportivo going to matter come the end of the season? I can’t bear to think about it. I might just get lost in this bottle of vermouth instead.
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