Only Rac1 commentators, in a vibrant moment of lucidity during the historical comeback of Madrid to the City in 2022 knew how to perfectly describe the party that was held on Tuesday, three years later, between the City and Madrid: it is not about Soccer, it is a paranormal phenomenon. But they forgot about something: it is not paranormal, it is very paranormal. The new paranormality, which was the old woman. Madrid doing things from Madrid in the last minutes. The silent and wounded beast, bleeding for all the wounds of this season, bleeding by the launched large teams that managed it until the end this year, emerged as an abyssal devil fish in the most important match and against the largest rival, against The biggest coach, in the cursed stadium: two goals, one in the last second, and to burst the Bernabéu of people in the return. The Champions has returned, shouted in Macondo when the gypsy Melquiades returned with his magical cachivaches to the people; The Champions has returned, as the sharpener still shouts in the villages giving the wheel under the windows. And Madrid has returned. Happiness has returned, when it was most expected, when it was most needed.
And that the game started with a mocking mural towards Vini remembering his crying under a beautiful image of Rodri kissing the Golden Ball. Rodri took a picture. It does not strange. Any proof is good for, in the future, to ensure that he won the Golden Ball 2024. And that, also, that of all the catastrophic variables that Real Madrid had successfully rehearsed this season against large clubs, there was an unpublished one that was conveniently Obligated for 45 minutes in Manchester: Play better, create clear occasions, fail them and lose. Madrid forgot to play anything and played everything, and the marker reminded him at some point to the times when the Monster Champions remained crouched without knowing what to do with the ball more than to get him out of the finish line before How to cross, and then inject the mortal poison.
A City was presented for many minutes to constant bombing: Mbappé, Valverde, Vinicius. Even Mendy had a clear occasion in the Citizen defense bazaar overcome at times, other other. There was nothing. It had to be the worst shot of Mbappé’s life that began to give air to Madrid for the Vuelta. An air that deposited the Real in the second half with Marshal and Cobra Bit It was imperial, not the goals.
And there were no white goals until MINUTES MADRIDthat bunch of minutes in which it seems that everything is already done, that there is no more, that this at 50 is what life has offered us and we accept it with resignation. A 2-1 and wait for the return, or that there is light after death. But in life you have to be Madrid, although in football you are not from Madrid. You have to always believe, even if God pretends not to exist; You have to press until the end, although the tie is worth you; You have to demand, in love and in the Champions, what others expect from you. And repeat it again and again, again and again. Because no one, ever, gets bored of this.
