The “dead” Real Madrid led by Xavi was revived in San Mames with the same midfield that witnessed the beginning of Bellingham’s career in Spain at the hands of Ancelotti, the four white “Beatles”: Valverde, Camavinga, Aureliano and, of course, Bellingham, more … Courtois behind and in front of Vinicius and Mbappe. Taking care of them like ants take care of aphids and making sure they are happy is the coach’s only job, much to the chagrin of the piperos, whose lives are so miserable that they want the “millionaire kids” running around the field like Lutina’s workers in Numancia in the 1990s. That was Xavi’s idea when he arrived at the Bernabeu, that Vinicius is Gravesen. Why Vinicius? Because he was the easy one: he’s in the process of being renovated and half the Real Madrid fans hate him just because he’s a special kid and the way he does his job. Xavi prefers Gonzalo, who has that grotesque appearance similar to José Antonio de la Loma’s Vakila character, and fits better with the pepera demagoguery of the streetwalkers. How much applause at the Bernabéu for those useless runs made by Raúl to save the ball out of bounds! On TV, Benito’s toothpick repeats that the command is to run and that you should run. Running for what? Lenin wanted to know. Running to be part of Xavi’s system, which is not helped by his concerns on the wing either (and no second choice until December, since we are Madrid, and we have to learn from the elegance on the bench of the Italian coaches). Madrid like Dustin Hoffman, who spends every movie showing, even in “Tootsie.” Xavi made more turns than a greyhound to go to bed, only to discover that the key to this team was Carlito, defeated by the plague of broken Crusaders, who returned, as he thought, Courtois and Militao. What happened to Xavi is what happened to Leon Felipe: “A strong wind will come to take me to my place.” Goodbye to their system, that idea of playing fast, “faster as if they were going to die,” as Ruano said, a wheel to “be” before “to be,” that wheel we never knew, that is, they, these footballers, because our game was different and was in the joy of walking and the terror of arriving.
– The wheel is for those who assume that they are starting from nothing and that everything means profit to them. We have already won. Not lukewarm.
Rush, for Leverkusen, with boredom, is another rush (“like quiet despair”). They say the discrepancy between players and coach was settled by the embrace of Xavi and Vinicius in San Mames, which was not General Serrano’s embrace of Pavia in Pinto, which would become the most poignant event of the World Cup. It seemed like an embrace of comfort, more on the part of the coach than the player, but it was an embrace that, along with the three goals, puts the team on the constitutional path and will go down in history if these guys win the sixteenth match at the Puskas Arena in Budapest against Neuer and Bayern Kane, as long as Carlito’s key is insisted, but without Carlito’s injuries. Let Courtois, Militao, Rudiger, Aureliano, Camavinga, Bellingham, Vinicius and Mbappe hold out.
Courtois or Neuer (“Noya”, in Rivero State’s prose)? Incidentally, Piperio made Xavi suffer because, while still a player, he said Neuer was the best goalkeeper he had ever known. How could he insult Casillas like that? There is no doubt that this is Mourinho’s bad influence. The pibros, of course, constitute the greatest burden on Madrid: those who make the environmental Madridism that the “potanitos” exude in “podcasting” unbearable.
Test nine, city. Celta doesn’t matter. The good league does not matter. Except to measure feelings. Feelings in Bilbao were good until Camavinga and Trent were injured, and they are, unfortunately, visible under Pipero’s lights. Trent is the only footballer in the world who possesses the four ballistic missiles (short, medium, long and intercontinental) capable of awarding Joselu the Golden Boot. His injury in the form of fate will change Valverde’s life.
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