The discharges of negreira case, the pestilent prestige spilled over Spanish football, it has a sector already in suspense in itself afflicted by such a stain of universal discredit. Homeland football navigates with more turbulence than galas on the field. Without big stars, with Barça and Madrid so little Versailles, the round tables predominated due to the stench of referee suspicions, the VAR skits, the arrests of the irate Vinicius, the game Vietnamese from Gavi, the chusqueras of the main institutional leaders… From the show itself, from the fetén, crumbs. More noise than football, of the one that seduces, not the one that gives reel for the fights in the bar or on the set. A football story is missing, greater splendor. Greater brilliance of a football to which the selection by flag does not give flight even against Japan and Morocco, which are not Pelé’s Brazil.
Not even with classics ahead. The last one was depressing. The leader, Barça, eternal cover of the antiresult, today it is anchored golito by golito with the ropes as a refuge. The culé gene, the style ahead, is now a minor issue. Madrid, results-oriented like no other, no longer has the score as an alibi. From climber to be traced. From 31 points in the first 11 games to 22 in the last 13. On October 16, they prevailed in the classic league and left Barça five points behind in the rear-view mirror. Today nine away from a rival as effective as faded are their essences. A Barça that in the cup semifinal in Chamartín sent back to the trench times at all costs of Nereo Rocco, Helenio Herrera or José María Maguregui. Opposite, a disconcerting Real, one day because yes, another because not, in which the Praetorians and the opponents do not fully thread.
The two great vectors of Spanish football, referees on the sidelines, limit their debates to the expiration or not of Benzema, Modric and Kroos; to the premature slump of Ansu Fati and the renewal or not of Busquets. One hangs from Vinicius, the other from Araujo. Ferran does not take off, Camavinga and Tchouameni do not end up consolidating. The future of Nacho, Ceballos and Asensio is on the air. Lewandowski (34 years old) has as little travel left as Benzema (35). And Hazard, a ghost in Valdebebas, the last one signed with a Hollywood carpet, no longer has a pass. Despite the latest disappointment with Mbappé, Real, even with the Bernabeu 3.0 in flying, it is supposed that it has treasury left to outline another cycle, whether or not it lifts the 15th -capable it would be, despite its bumpy traffic-. Barça barely has change, whether or not they fit a domestic double that rinses their rampant football.
After 24 days in Spain, 26 in the Premier and Ligue 1, 25 in Serie A and 23 in the Bundesliga: Manchester City, Bayern and PSG -all with 66 goals-, Arsenal (59), Napoli (58), Monaco (55) and Marseille (49) provided more than Barça (46) and Madrid (47). The gripe Liverpool already has 47, like Dortmund, and the limping Tottenham, 46, the same as Inter, Leipzig and Lille.
In the second Spanish scale there has not been a growth spurt either. The third top scorer is Atlético (38), as productive at the forefront as the commendable Girona. As much as in the tribute to Simeone the team was packed with goals as it is not usual with the austere dominant cholismo. And two illustrious like Sevilla and Valencia are anguished in the Siberian zone of the classification. Outbreaks from Real and Betis… Athletic and Villarreal come and go. Little more can be demanded of the rest, not even the fresh Rayo, the combative Mallorca, the lowered Celta, the thriving Osasuna, the indefinite Espanyol, the strong Cádiz and Almería or the Guadiana Getafe. To Elche, so prematurely melted, it is up to its determination not to give up completely.
In the last day four games with 0-0. As the traditional would say, with four yawns: Real-Cádiz, Rayo-Athletic, Osasuna-Celta and Betis-Madrid. Almería, Mallorca and Valencia also barbecue. That is, once the teams were limp.
There is hardly any phosphorescence. It is difficult to find the individual podium of the championship, not even those who park at the moment on the collective throne shine. The League, except for exceptional levers, is finally regulated with a firm hand financially, but it needs more football and less anger. The emptiness of Messi and CR is infinite, these are no longer times of zidanes and the iniestas They don’t bloom every month. The vast majority of clubs, which cannot break through in large markets, should place greater emphasis on training, neighborhood and academic.
But there are other actors who would help improve the game. To a large extent, it is in the hands of the referees that there is greater fluidity and less tension. There is a lack of ex-soccer referees, although occasionally from a schoolyard. Not everything is lacking, not everything is a card, not everything requires infinite nonsense. And of course, it would help to blush the trap footballer that is so abundant. Opta’s data is as eloquent as it is disturbing. La Liga not only has the lowest scoring average among the big five (2.42 per game). He leads the ranking of yellows (4.97), that of reds (0.40 -20 in the Premier for 97 in Spain!-), that of fouls (26.42 per game) and with the longest total playing time ( 98.15 minutes) turns out to be the one with the shortest effective time (53.62). The League is at stake. And the Super League flies over.
Sufficient evidence for relief. And to reread the eternal Eduardo Galeano: “I am nothing more than a beggar for good football. I go around the world, hat in hand, and in the stadiums I beg for a nice little game for the love of God. And when good football happens, I am grateful for the miracle without giving a damn which club or country is offering it to me.”
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