A crazy and beautiful Atleti

When De Burgos Bengoetxea was going to whistle the break, the Metropolitano was like the cabin of the Marx Brothers. Minute 48, consumed three of the seven added to a first part in which more things could not happen. Five goals, a missed penalty, two converted, Atleti ahead first and then came back; blows, seven yellow, the red and white fans feeling the blue pill melting in their mouth. To forget. To the Atleti del Cholo that was and is no longer, so fragile, weak, so easy to send to the canvas.

And that in the first twenty minutes it seemed like another story, at the beginning of a game with an ovation for the man from the rival bench. It was Quique, the seed of everything that later grew up with Cholo. She had left her Getafe with the path marked, pointing to a heel: the rojiblanco tremor from set pieces. He looked for it with a foul at the minute, a corner at the minute and a half. Atleti came out in order 4-4-2 to escape the latest photos, six changes with respect to Camp Nou and an unprecedented defense.

Llorente returned to the team and to the side, Felipe at Savic’s side, Reinildo, the starter for the first time so that his boots could block so much exhaust, as in France. Up, Suarez. A Suárez who looked for Soria’s leg in a ball leaked by Lemar and found a penalty. The goalkeeper’s mitt prevented him from getting on the scoreboard by repelling, masterfully, with a hard glove and low, his shot adjusted to the post. soccer justice. It was a gong to madness. came to the game.

To one side, uprooted from Ünal. On the other, Koke became the third center-back to get the ball out and leave the full wing to Llorente’s runs. Some races that give depth and meaning to the team, that complete Correa’s dances, all street, that has filled everything for some time. It was 19 ‘when he appeared like a shell from behind to finish off a drop shot by Suárez and bring the score to 1-0. Eight minutes later, Cunha celebrated, pushing a cross from Llorente that Mitrovic was unable to clear. Cholo breathed. The chest inflamed from so much air caught with that 2-0. Getafe did not accuse him. A Getafe grown on the defensive order and on the attack on that marked path: the extreme fragility of Atleti. And Quique was not wrong. Everything achieved in 27 minutes took Atleti just over ten to spoil it.

Mayoral reanimated the ghosts. Oblak, at first, already defeated. And the second too. Cunha’s hand in the area, referee’s whistle: Ünal completely fools the goalkeeper and equalizes. Five minutes later, the same movie. Lemar’s hand, VAR review, warning: it’s in the area, it’s a penalty. Ünal from the same point again against Oblak. His dry shot was a direct bullet to Cholo’s heart. 23. The blue pill to the mouth, the cabin of the Marx brothers… And Correa back on stage in the 49th minute: he finished off a header from Lemar’s pass for 3-3. When De Burgos Bengoetexea finally whistled the break, the game couldn’t have been crazier. An Atleti-Getafe with six goals already. Two years ago it would have sounded like dystopia..

The second was calmer until Felipe stuck out his paw. And every time she does, thriller music plays on Cholo’s bench. Always fast, always abrupt. Yesterday too. Her kick to Arambarri in the back was like a machete blow. Red. Simeone took refuge waiting for the error. Quique he sat down Mitrovic, he took out Mata. His team was in control, depth was lacking. But when the clock ticked down to 90′, the air was filled again with that from before, from the end of the first half. Of that that the Metropolitan already breathed before Valencia: João forced a ball from De Paul and Hermoso, acrobatic, introduced the red pill in 49,375 throats. Goal. Delirium. The stadium in flight, not even afraid of the next play, the last one, a shot by Maksimovic was just touching the post. But that truth already filled everything. Nobody knows how to win like Atleti. That no team in the world could make it more epic, more difficult, more convoluted. And so, so insanely beautiful.