A few very personal opinions, not simply personal (like that tobacco shop I saw in Jaén advertising on a bus shelter at full blast: “Very open,” not just “open”) in this long and agonizing end of the Madridista season.
Bellingham seems to me a great player who also has character, desire, and strength to succeed as he did in his first year; I even see him, although I only have access to him through what he does on the field, as a leader of the squad.
I have stopped having a clear opinion about Vinicius. The 2024 version seems to me the best player in the world. That he has progressed so much physically and competitively and mentally remains the same, or more unhinged, than five years ago, is thought-provoking; there are matches, and important matches, where you don’t know what state he is in. Others, even, where to know where on the field he is you have to follow the referee with your eyes. A player who at 100% focused is so good and decisive, and who barely reaches that 100% in a few matches, even frustrates his most enthusiastic supporters. You won’t see me among the fools who boo him given what he endures outside the Bernabéu; he doesn’t deserve as many boos from the crowd as warnings from a coach who puts him in line: stop talking, stop exaggerating, stop jumping against anyone because anyone, just by being you, will constantly provoke you (while I write this he leans with Gonzalo against a huge wall, fakes out two Espanyol opponents and scores a goal: one can’t react like that just because they are criticizing you in an article that will come out tomorrow. And now he just struck the ball like a god after a backheel from Bellingham. Let’s try with Mbappé, in case he decides to show up at Camp Nou).
Read more THE COUNTRY of the future starts today
Mbappé is starting to go through what Guti went through, who in less interesting matches sent Arantxa de Benito to play for him taking advantage of the blonde hair and the general distraction of the public with the genius of number 14. There are matches where one has the feeling that Esther Expósito would get open better than the Frenchman. They are both spending some days of dolce far niente in Italy taking advantage of an Mbappé injury, and the expression, taking advantage of an injury, says it all. I am a fan of the forward, I am amazed by his speed, power, and abrasive ability to burn the opposing defense. I like watching him play, he has a very Real Madrid style: you can play anything and Mbappé will play his own game and win the match, with Courtois’s permission. But when the tortuous equation doesn’t work, the apathy, also from him, takes everything down.
Madrid won in Barcelona, but against Espanyol. Barça is still missing. It fulfills a historical function, which is to always be Madrid, even in the toughest moments: to compete and push until the end, which is how its simple history has been written. After meaningless matches in which they threw away the championship, there could have been the temptation not to risk Barça consuming it at Camp Nou as a war feast and celebrate the title there. Maybe they will, but it won’t be because the whites are going to gift it to them nor because against Espanyol they slowed down and sent the celebration to Barça on their day off. They come to play. They come to deserve victories and defeats. That is what Arbeloa conveys to the players and that is what they applied themselves to: that if they lose the league, it won’t be for lack of character in the final moments, in the delicate minutes, in the usual matches. So at least alive.
Read more Álvaro García Ortiz: “With my sentence we have all lost, including the Supreme Court”
