For some time now, it's been a pleasure to welcome a friendly club to the Bernabéu. Maybe it's because, with the help of provincial anti-Madridism, we have fewer and fewer of them, maybe it's also because in the ranks of Espanyol we don't appreciate Alejos or Maffeos on duty. Bad news for good old Vini in this league return, today watching his weapons on the bench at the beginning, hero of the night at the end, thinking how comfortable he could rest in any field in Spain.
It won't be at the Metropolitano next week, that won't happen. He wasn't the only regular starter off the pitch on this September night; along with Vini, Mendy and Rüdiger settled their behinds; in their place, on the pitch, Fran García at left back and Tchouameni as centre-back. Aladdin Güler, by the way, with the task of rubbing Vinicius Junior's magic lamp. He wouldn't be long in doing so.
Carletto commented before the game about the Bernabéu's taste for rock & roll. And it turns out that Madrid delighted us with an associative football of violins and excellent scores.
Melancholic, as if infected by the emotional minute of silence in the Madrid Coliseum for Salvatore "Toto" Schilacci, Azzurri hero in the 1990 World Cup in Italy - may he rest in peace -, Espanyol did not put up any resistance in these first few minutes that have been so indigestible for Madrid lately. The only scare then, Bellingham's tumble on his suffering shoulder. It didn't last long. It took the Englishman just as long to delight the crowd with a high backheel to clear the ball out of defence. Before that, Güler had already done a couple of bullfighting feints in the area and Goes, once again under the spotlights, some of his malicious twists. Espanyol, res; the same prominence that the parrots usually hold in the pages of the Catalan sports press.
Madrid accumulated chances, often from Mbappé's boots after a change of pace with Arda's silky football. First, they did so after a good cross from an incisive García, which Güler intelligently headed into the area for Kylian to finish, which was thwarted by another García, Joan, the good white-and-blue goalkeeper. Shortly afterwards, he would firmly catch a dry and hard shot from the edge of the box from our Ninja Turtle, still waiting to adjust the blindfold of his aim. In between, crazy adventures from Militao, including a header from a corner, and a slap in the face from Fran, a potential penalty, with the VAR keeping quiet. Carletto commented in the preview about the Bernabéu's taste for rock & roll, and it turns out that until now Madrid had delighted us with an associative football of violins and excellent scores. Of course, it is possible, if we consider that our Uruguayan falcon, an unrepentant corrector, had already accumulated six recoveries in less than half an hour.
Everything looked good
Gradually, after Mbappé received his first inexplicable yellow card far from the referee, Madrid became increasingly sluggish until they fell into their usual lethargy. Fortunately, given Espanyol's inability to cause any surprises, we reached the changing rooms without incident. Until half-time, the only noteworthy event was a bold long-range attempt by Javi Puado that came relatively close. Nothing more for Espanyol and less and less for Real. It was time to row again, nothing new under the sun, the Madrid moon in this case.
Madrid quickly fired at Espanyol's goal again, with Mbappé and Joan García taking shots. This time, Espanyol responded with two long-range attempts, the second of which came close to the crossbar. Surprisingly, the match was still in the balance.
Oh no, here we go again, the same situation CJ was complaining about when he returned to Los Santos after leaving prison in Grand Theft Auto San Andreas, the same feeling we had at the start of this season. Vinicius, to applause, came out to warm up on the sidelines. In the 52nd minute, we could confirm that anxiety was taking over the white coliseum: against all odds - and logic - Espanyol took the lead at the Bernabéu. A phenomenal long pass from Joan García - another goalkeeper we're making a legend for a day - allowed Jofre to cross low in front of Carvajal's mess. Also against all odds - and logic, Courtois got in with his own back heel. 0-1, we had to fight even harder. Vinicius, on the pitch, Güler, out.
Football is a thing of the past. After 52 minutes of agony, Madrid needed only six, and a bit of luck, to draw the match. Valverde launched a ground-to-air missile to which Joan García responded, once again, effectively. However, Bellingham, like a Christmas pickpocket in Preciados, stole the ball from the periquito defender who had collected the rebound; he calmed down and crossed; low, firm, hard, so much so that for once the ball slipped past the goalkeeper. Carvajal, attentive, hammered the ball on the line. 120 seconds later, apparently injured, he was replaced by Lucas Vázquez.
1-1, more than half an hour early, homework unfinished and the hurry of a struggling student.
Mbappé's exceptional skills were on display, as he executed a phenomenal slalom before setting up Rodrygo with a backheel pass for a clear shot from the edge of the box, which went wide. Endrick was already warming up, and Madrid began to dominate the match, thanks to the freshness of Vini and the aristocratic excellence of Jude. Espanyol, with skill, worked hard to slow down the match, which was doomed, once again, to the umpteenth Viking traffic jam worthy of the M30 on Friday afternoons. It wouldn't be that bad.
Vinicius delivered an excellent cross from outside, reminiscent of Lukita's style, providing a lethal pass for Goes to turn the game around with just over a quarter of an hour remaining.
2-1 in the 74th minute... and 3-1 in the 76th when Vini stole the ball in midfield and ran on the counterattack with Mbappé who, at the precise moment, returned it to the carioca to score the third in front of a more transparent Joan García. With the game decided, we returned again to the Wild West of refereeing where Munuera Muntero once again drew two yellow cards for protesting Vinicius and Bellingham. Precisely, Jude, exhausted, left his place to Endrick. Thanks, Carlo, because this kid is impressive, whether you give him one, two or three moments to play.
As soon as he came onto the pitch, Endrick got hold of an impossible ball - right next to the corner flag! - and launched himself into the box like Mihura. So much so that he had to be held back, although the run started outside the area, the force of nature of this youngster was such that he ended up dragging the defender to where the penalties are called. Mbappé scored from the eleven metres towards the fourth in the ninetieth minute.
True to the 2024-2025 season, Madrid once again delighted us with more than an hour of anguish against a newly promoted team. The good news is that we have accumulated an entire League without anyone forcing us to bend the knee.
Exactly one year ago, at the Metropolitano, where we play next Sunday. Hala Madrid.
