Real Madrid-Valencia With Vinicius is something else

Don’t do too much research to explain Madrid’s strong leadership. Benzema and Vinicius, 29 goals between the two, more than thirteen First Division teams. And Modric, forced to dismount once more at the Bernabéu, and Courtois, the last refuge. But above all of them Benzema, who in each game adds a piece to his collection. His return made Madrid flourish, which started well and fled the game after a penalty to Casemiro, of which sometimes they are whistled and others not (Do you remember Suárez’s little grip on Marcelo in Getafe?). The thing about Hernández Hernández, with each other pulling the rope, could not go well, but the ultra reaction of Valencia has no justification.

Bordalás does not serve games in syrup or walk the Bolshoi in Spain, and January has brought a few ‘filomenas’ to Ancelotti. So the one and the other seemed to match a game full of imbalances at the start: many more points from Madrid, many more losses from Valencia. The most notable, that of Soler, the last bat of the shield, the foot that guides the team, from set pieces and in motion. Perhaps that is why Bordalás reordered the attack by placing Musah, a roadrunner, as a midfielder, instead of Guedes, defeated on the left, in front of Lucas Vázquez, in a way a newcomer to the side. The maneuver worked for him. The first Valencia had order, deployment and tusk against a Madrid with post-vacation syndrome, detected and not corrected by Ancelotti at that start. It has passed from the muses to the shrews.

Valencia’s first approximations remained tentative (a distant shot by Guedes that Courtois stopped was the most intentional shot), but the Levantine team was tying up the dots to subdue the usual Madrid. Because Ancelotti did not get anything clean from the Cup, save Camavinga and whoever he can. At this time, those in the back of the closet should know that from there they do not twist their nose but face, in Alcoy or wherever they play.

Post-stop Madrid has become a sporadic team, without continuity. It is true that he created three good chances in the first twenty minutes, the best one a plunged header from Militao guessed by Cillessen, but his football is full of time-outs. It happened before Getafe, with the team’s wheels sunk in the mud, and it was repeated at the beginning against Valencia. Casemiro is the flag of regression. A footballer to the limit that when he is not tipped to the fore, he puts himself in great danger. At a quarter of an hour he was yellow and a half, because Hernández Hernández had forgiven him one before the one he saw, like Gayà or Wass. Canary justice is flexible. And the suspicion of the Bernabéu, lasting.

Little bit Madrid was reforming itself through its main routes: the speed of Vinicius, the most indefensible of the team, and the stick of Modric, the holy spirit of the holy trinity. A magnificent pass from the Croatian ended with Asensio’s right hand shot that was rejected by Cillessen. The wrong leg and the right hands at the same point.

The warning changed the route to Valencia, which was shrinking minute by minute. It went from being a danger to being a nuisance, from ambition to caution. And it was closing the spaces to Madrid, which wanted to remedy it by giving flight to the extremes. Lucas Vázquez lacked a point of depth and Mendy, several points of finesse, but it was they who really shook up the game. They and Modric, who sent a whiplash even more tremendous than Getafe’s to the crossbar, but the game unbalanced a penalty for debate. Casemiro accelerated through the center, Alderete slightly left his foot, the Brazilian did not want to remove his and Hernández Hernández deduced from the contact, whom the VAR did not warn before due to a possible hand from Piccini, which could lead to a penalty from a penalty. Valencia, which is trigger-happy with the claims sheet in this stadium, exaggerated to the point of absurdity talking about theft in a deplorable tweet cheered by Piqué, another arsonist. Benzema transformed the penalty with a shot to the square. So are ice scorers.

That was the end of a match that before the controversy belonged to Madrid. Valencia was depressed by anger and Vinicius was awakened by the desire. The 2-0 portrays his new life. He came out alive, between breaks and rebounds, from the ambush of two Valencia players and defined with the coldness of the matadors: head high, one eye on the goalkeeper and another on the gap he offered. The third rewarded his faith. Benzema, always Benzema, served half a goal to Asensio, whose shot was rejected by Cillessen as best he could and Vinicius, attentive to the screen, pushed him into the net. Now you can also be Raúl in the area.

The rest was protocol. Ancelotti protected Casemiro, gave Ceballos a pardon, Bordalás punished Koba (he took him away after 17 minutes of putting him on the field) and Hernández Hernández gave Mendy a penalty (this very clear and deserving of red) that did not He consoled Valencia which Courtois turned down, allowing Guedes to make amends and score. The Belgian had already flown high before in a brutal shot by Wass and would do it later in another by Manu Vallejo. His performance and Benzema’s second goal softened the end of Madrid, which will pass the ITV del Clásico on Wednesday.