So, you thought Real Madrid had a sliver of hope left in this ludicrous La Liga title race? Think again. The universe, clearly a Barcelona fan, has...
So, you thought Real Madrid had a sliver of hope left in this ludicrous La Liga title race? Think again.
The universe, clearly a Barcelona fan, has decided to kick Los Blancos squarely in the knackers. Two of their key lads, Eder Militao and the young Turk Arda Guler, are now done for the season. Not a twisted ankle you shake off with a magic sponge and a pat on the arse. No. Surgery. Rehab. Gone. The full six-month sabbatical.
Let’s be honest, Carlo Ancelotti looked like a man who’d been told his dog had died when he confirmed the news to GoalZaza. And why wouldn’t he? You’ve got four games left, trailing the league leaders, and your defensive bedrock has just crumbled. Militao, the man who could twat a clearance into row Z and then make a goal-line save from a VAR check, was finally looking like the colossus he should have been all season. Now, he’s sitting in a tracksuit watching Netflix while his mates get baptised by Vinicius Jr’s shithousery. Absolute scenes, but not the good kind.
And then there’s Guler. The kid who was supposed to be the next big thing from Anatolia. The kid who makes the ball sing a little tune when he twats it into the top corner. He was just starting to get a run of games, you know? That little spark of magic in a midfield that can sometimes look like they’re playing on a muddy Sunday league pitch at 10am. Now he’s got a knock that’s taken him out until the next bloody season. Talk about bottling a career start. Not his fault, obviously. The lads over at Valdebebas medical department must be polishing up their CVs because the injury list in the Spanish capital is getting absolutely stacked.
Does this mean the title is gone? Come on now. You didn’t think they were going to win it, did you? Barcelona have been grinding out 1-0 wins like they’re on a cold rainy night in Stoke. They’ve parked the bus and played the dark arts so well, Xavi almost looks like a managerial genius again. Madrid had one last desperate throw of the dice. Now, with a backline potentially featuring Nacho and some kid from the Castilla squad, that dice just rolled off the table.
The gaffer has to reshuffle the pack entirely. Expect to see a lot of midfielders trying to play centre-half. Expect to see crosses being floated into the box for a tired Karim Benzema to try and flick on. Expect panic. Real Madrid, the masters of comebacks, are now stuck in the mud.
The rest of the season? It’s damage limitation. They’ll probably win a few games because they always do. But you can’t lose your big doll in defence and your shiny new toy in midfield and expect to fight on two fronts. Someone at the club has definitely lost the plot. Maybe it’s the kit man for putting voodoo curse on the physio table. I don’t know.
What I do know is this: the fat lady is warming up in Catalonia. She’s clearing her throat. Militao and Guler are out. And the Bernabéu, that beautiful, intimidating colosseum, just got a whole lot quieter. Over to you, Ancelotti. You’re going to need a shaman more than a left back at this point.
