“Football stopped being just football a long time ago.” This has been one of the many mottos of Espanyol’s ingenious marketing area, recognized above all by two slogans that made a fortune over the years: “Wonderful minority” and “The strength of a feeling.” The phrase, a nod to Bill Shankly’s legendary sentence in Liverpool in the 60s and 70s – “Some believe that football is just a matter of life or death, but it is something much more important than that,” he resolved. – became a reality in Cornellà. It was not a typical afternoon of football, it was all or nothing, promotion or life. And Espanyol avoided the abyss to explain that it is First Division. Slap for a Real Oviedo that has calluses on its sewers23 years of absence in the elite, although a possible starting point to undertake next year the enterprise of returning to its place, to First Division.
2
Joan Garcia, Cabrera, Calero, Pere Milla (Brian, min. 68), Omar, José Gragera, Keidi (Víctor Ruiz, min. 79), Jofre (Salvi, min. 78), Melamed (Aguado, min. 79), Javi Puado (Pol Lozano, min. 86) and Braithwaite
0
Leo Román, Oier Luengo, Dani Calvo, Viti, Pomares (Abel Bretones, min. 45), Jaime Seoane (Borja Bastón, min. 75), Sebas (Borja Sanchez, min. 45), Santiago Colombatto, Luismi (Cazorla, min. . 62), Jonathan Dubasin and Alexandre Alemão
Goals 1-0 min. 44: Javi Puado. 2-0 min. 47: Javi Puado.
Referee Adrian Cordero Vega
Yellow cards Cabrera (min. 21), Sebas (min. 28), Viti (min. 41), Keidi (min. 46), Pere Milla (min. 64) and Jaime Seoane (min. 73)
It was a day of celebration, one of those in which one does not negotiate with the throat or with the illusion. That’s why the surroundings of the Espanyol stadium took on color from midday. And with each hour that passed, there was more revelry, and also more drinks, to the point that conversations turned into songs. “Another beer, we want another beer!”, some kids hummed in the Suerte Bar, already piripis. “They’re going to see us come back, they’re going to see us come back, we’re going to move up!” others proclaimed in the Ilurio Bar, a contagious song. To all this was added a brass band of drums and trumpets that made everyone dance without looking at their ID, old and young. And in the background, of course, the firecrackers were booming because then it was time to celebrate the night of San Juan as God intended. And speaking of deities, a priest passed by the Pepe Cafe with the Espanyol flag. “The Lord is on our side!” exclaimed the most witty. And back to singing, to drinking. But for the celebration to be complete, Espanyol had to beat Oviedo, who won the first leg by the minimum.
Espanyol tried to define itself from the beginning with the ball between its feet, starting from the roots to try to accelerate in the final meters, always with Melamed as dealer and with Braithwaite as buoyant and receiver. The nerves, however, because of risking their lives, gripped the blue and white team, imprecise in deliveries, crooked in the centers, anonymous in the finishing. Much ado about nothing, they filled the ball without breaking a defense that for some reason had not conceded a single goal in the three previous qualifying matches. But what bothered the parakeets the most was Oviedo’s attitude, which was mischievous, since any throw-in or goal kick meant losing time. You play, I don’t want to. It was anti-football. But it was a proposal as ugly as it was legal that Espanyol ended up destroying. Melamed appeared, who took a corner to the far post; and Puado arrived, who earned the position and glory in the area to put his foot down and score, also the madness in Cornellà. And when it went pop there was no stop. More than anything because in the next play, Cabrera threw long for the career of Pere Milla, who cushioned the ball and gave it to Puado, who brought the stadium back to its feet, the Cornellà Bombonera as it was in its time. Sarria.
Back on the pitch, Oviedo was another, needing a goal to not perish, required to play what they had previously denied. Curiously, Espanyol no longer felt like it, even though they did not lose as much time, although they were more restrained in their bet, medium block defense and narrow lines. Enough, in any case, to blur an Oviedo team that found it difficult to stand out in the rival area, not even with Cazorla on the mat. But Oviedo’s danger, adorned by the fear of Espanyol, was not supported by a clear opportunity, perhaps a one-eyed shot by Borja Sánchez and a shot by Bastón at the horn. The blue and white team closed ranks, reduced minutes with the substitution wheel and tried to sing a lullaby to a duel that could not be quelled from the stands, goosebumps, heart in a fist. And if there were problems, Joan García, an enormous goalkeeper, would catch the ball.
And Sanse is over. Oviedo is left with the desire and Espanyol is saved from the burning to make good that statistic that it is promoted the year after going down (this has been the case the six times it has been relegated), now worrying about who will govern it – President Yangshen He has it for sale – and how it will straighten out, but happy because that will happen, again, in First Division.
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