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Vamos Atléti!
March 17. 2014; that cathedral of Catalonian football, the Camp Nou, bounced as ninety six thousand five hundred and twenty six souls– most clad in the famously classic red and blue hues of their football club – cheered and celebrated on the famous terraces.
Their inside forward - Alexis Sanchez – had just smashed in a stunner to open the scoring in a title deciding match against their fellow challengers, a club from their hated rival city, Madrid.
With the Madrid club’s star striker and creative hub both having been subbed off due to injury, it appeared for the all the world that Futbol Club Barcelona were well on the way to do doing what they had done with such monotonous regularity over the past decade; win yet another La Liga crown.
Fuelled by the rise of the irrepressible Ronaldinho and later, the indomitable Josep Guardiola, the past ten odd years had seen a level of dominance that eclipsed even the tremendous domestic success enjoyed by Johan Cruyff’s magical dream team in the early ‘90s.
Barcelona had swept home six championships in nine years, five of them coming in the last six. The only other club to challenge and (occasionally) defeat them during that period (said period started from 2003-04 when Valencia won the title and then promptly went *kaput!*) was the arch enemy – a despised team from that hated rival city, and arguably the only team in the land bigger than Barca themselves - Real Madrid.
Over the past nine years -more than any time in the long history of the beautiful game on the Iberian Peninsula - Real Madrid and Barcelona had taken their dominance of Spanish football to whole new levels.
These two had made a mockery of the league, playing at a plane so much higher than the other 18 teams in the division that those poor sods might as well have been in the second tier as far as realistic chances of winning La Liga were concerned.
Suffice to say, then, that it wasn’t altogether surprising when Barcelona walked out on to the pitch for the second half that day, with one hand on the trophy and a Madrid club desperate to stop them. Except the team from the capital was Real’s lesser known, less successful sibling Atlético.
For you see, football has a funny way of letting everyone know that this is after all the people’s game (even though this happens less and less frequently these days) and it’s the game on the pitch –not the name on the shirt –that matters at the end of the day.
Atlético Madrid never was a small club - being the third most successful country in a country with a long tradition of playing the game guarantees you that. But with 9 league titles against Barca’s 22 and Real’s monstrous 32, and with the last of those nine coming way back in 1995-96, they were not supposed to be too much trouble for either of the big two.
Yet, here they were, last game of the season, needing only a point to secure their first title in 19 years, and trailing to (an almost inevitable) Barca opening goal and suffering that (almost equally inevitable) double injury blow. If they had given up, no one would have raised a syllable in disappointment or anger.
No one but themselves.
Spurred on by the paltry four hundred and forty seven that had been allotted seats by the Catalans, El Chulo’s men did what came most naturally to them. Fight. And boy, did they fight!
When Diego Godin’s header smashed into the net behind Jose Manuel Pinto, the roar of that almost negligible contingent could be heard reverberating across the great stadium. (Stop here and picture this for a moment – 447 vs. 96,526 - *goosebumps*). Atléti, as was their wont, held on to clinch the draw and with it the title.
Finally, somebody else had won the bloody thing!
Summer reinforcements – not just for the big boys
Atléti had been playing well for a while under Diego Simeone’s tutelage but no one had seen this coming. Through an arduously killer season, they had sustained un-imaginable levels of intensity – playing each match as if it were their last – and walked away, heads held high, with that tenth league title tucked under their arms and a Champions League runner up medal (they had knocked out amongst others Mourinho’s mighty Chelsea and Barca on the way to the final – and had come to within a couple of minutes of actually winning the damn thing) around their necks.
Atléti had managed to rid themselves, and by extension, the rest of the league of the yolk of utter and almost dictatorial domination that the big two had subjected them to.
So, over the summer, Real and Barca did what they have always done whenever they have felt threatened (scratch that – threatened or not, they’ve always just done this) and bought newer, bigger, more expensive superstars.
The Catalans revamped their forward line – ditching Sanchez in favour of the absolutely magical Uruguayan Luis Suarez, while also acceding to the need of the hour (replacing the ageing legs of Xavi) and brought in the classy Croatian playmaker Ivan Rakitic amongst a host others that included two young and upcoming shot-stoppers (Bravo and ter Stegen) and proper defenders (Vermaelen and Mathieu).
Real meanwhile were ‘content’ with World Cup winning genius and precision-passing-machine Toni Kroos and the extravagantly talented Colombian superstar James Rodriguez. The signings of the brilliant Keylor Navas and the (potentially) deadly Javier ‘Chicharito’ Hernandez were almost afterthoughts.
But for once, the ‘Others’ – the other top table finishers, the ones who had become accustomed to scrapping for the remaining European places - ended the transfer window better off, too.
Atléti may have lost the services of their talisman and primary hitman Diego Costa, their energetic left back Filipe Luis and the enigmatic Chelsea loanee Thibaut Courtois, but they used that money wisely to get in the quicksilver Frenchman Antoine Griezmann and expert marksman Mario Mandzukic along with other exciting talent.
Sevilla, champions of Europe -well the Europa League anyway- did lose their playmaking hub Rakitic to Barca (getting in return two exciting loanees in Gerard Deulofeu and Denis Suarez) but were able to retain the spine of their unit and add to their midfield strength with the mercurial Ever Banega and the defensive rock that is Grzegorz Krychowiak.
Valencia were the big winners of the window – a team used to seeing superstar after superstar leave ever since their historic triumph in ’04 were not only able to retain their most exciting talents but also strengthen the side considerably through the smart acquisitions - Shkordan Mustafi, Nicolas Otamendi, Andre Gomes and Rodrigo Moreno chief amongst them. Their most important buy though may well turn out to be journeyman goalkeeper turned manager Nuno Espirito Santo.
Malaga lost the excellent Willy Caballero (who is now warming the benches in the cold of Manchester) but have more than capably replaced the Argentine with Mexican World Cup sensation Guillermo Ochoa (plus they still have the indomitable Carlos Kameni wearing no.1) and have also strengthened their leaky defence considerably.
At tiny Celta Vigo, Eduardo Berizzo replaced Luis Enrique and did a decent job strengthening the squad with the attack minded additions of creative midfielder Pablo Hernandez and the Batigol look-alike (and wannabe Batigol goal machine like) Joaquin Larrivey.
Sure, all these transfer dealings were very nice and all that – but surely this was going to be a straight shoot-out between the ridiculous battery of attacks that are Real and Barca. Ronaldo vs. Messi. Bale vs. Neymar. Rodriguez vs. Suarez. That’s what would decide the fate of the league title. The rest, as ever were sparring partners, poor sods who would be knocked clean off their feet as the big guns prepared for the main event (s) –El Clasico(s)
Well, it hasn’t really turned out to be that easy for the big boys this time around. Ever since El Chulo’s underdogs knocked them off their perch on that fateful March day, there has been revolution brewing in the air, and if the opening rounds of the season are any indication – we are in for one helluva ride.
The start of the Spanish Revolution?
Atléti, quite naturally the leaders of this charge of the ‘Others’ – defending champions, still rabidly intense, still intent on building on the brilliant work of last season, may have started off poorly (among those faintly disappointing opening games – a 3-1 bollocking at fellow contenders Valencia) but have recently hit something akin to top-gear (their last game, a surprisingly comprehensive defeat at Real Sociedad apart).
Valencia, however are the surprise package of the season – having finished a lowly 8th last time out (missing out in Europe for the first time in ages in the process), Nuno now has them playing a thrillingly direct brand of football based on constant pressing and lightning quick counter attacks – none of that meandering about passing ‘nonsense’ that the Spanish game is so famous for.
This rather rare style has worked magnificently (a 3-0 thrashing at the hands of another old superpower, Deportivo La Coruna, aside) and has seen them reach third place, just a point behind Barca and three behind league leaders Real. And they don’t seem like they are leaving these top echelons anytime soon.
The great Andalusian club Sevilla is just a point behind (level with Atléti) and has earned their right to be there with some absolutely mesmerizing displays of possession based football.
Unai Emery, the former Valencia coach who lead Los Che to three consecutive third place finishes, is in his third year in charge and has adapted wonderfully well to the departure of his lynchpin Rakitic by moulding his team around a midfield composed of the powerful Stephen M’bia (who is having the season of his life till now), the mercurial Ever Banega and the two Barca loanees along with the attacking threat of the powerful Colombian Carlos Bacca .
He has maintained the momentum that propelled them to the Europa League trophy last season, and has got them playing some breathtaking football.
If only Emery can get over his apparent stage fright – and perform against the big guns (Valencia finished at least twenty points adrift in all three of their third place finishes) as well as he gets Sevilla to do against the rest, they should be in with a shout come March 2015.
Their fellow Andalusians Malaga find themselves pretty well situated at sixth (just two points behind the team from Seville), having recovered somewhat from the financial troubles they encountered since the Qatari, Sheikh Abdullah Al Thani, took over. Javi Garcia has moulded a decent outfit with Duda, Samuel Casillejo and Camacho providing the solid base on which the disciplined side have done so well this season.
When Luis Enrique left to coach Barcelona, few Celta fans would have imagined, even in their wildest dreams, that his successor would lead the Galician outfit to victory at the Nou Camp – Berizzo having crafted a tidy, well-drilled unit that defends well and attacks quickly. Powered by the magic of Nolito and Johnny Castro alongside the finishing prowess of Larrivey, they find themselves just a point off Malaga in seventh.
Having said all that, It’s not like Real or Barca have suddenly forgotten how to play the game – Carlo Ancelotti’s men have been playing some supremely sublime football (Cristiano Ronaldo has scored a frankly ludicrous 18 goals in 11 league matches) and lead the table with 27 points, while Barcelona have dominated most of the matches they have played in – just not how they used to. They are still only two points behind their arch enemies.
However, Real, despite their plethora of attacking talents, do look vulnerable at the back, as Real Sociedad so unbelievably showed in their 4-2 demolition of the European champions at San Sebastien (Sociedad are like the anti–Sevilla, seemingly capable of playing their best football only when faced with materially superior opponents. David Moyes will have his hands full with the Basques this season).
And Barca, for all their domination, seem to lacking a killer edge, their famed ruthlessness in front of goal seemingly abandoning even the best of them (read Lionel Messi). With Suarez still adapting to life in Catalunya, they may take a while to hit top gear.
All this means that the conditions are perfect for a revolution to succeed. A revolution, whose embers were fanned by the ultimate ‘Other’ club Atlético, now appears poised to flare up into an unbridled conflagration. The league leaders are only seven points in front of the team in seventh, as it stands today.
With Chelsea dominating England (we all love what Southampton are upto on the south coast, but realistically – come on!), Bayern Munich ruling over the Bundesliga with an iron fist and Juventus & Roma pulling away from the rest in Italy, this Spanish Revolución may just have made La Liga the most exciting thing in World football.
