The first, in the front; and the second and the third

It cannot be a coincidence, a ‘rare bird’ in elite sport. There are five defeats in eight games. It is a script that is repeated over and over, with a point of cruelty. Imanol He insists on each appearance that his team deserves more, but something fails because the points fly. The damned details, which perhaps by recurring ones are no longer mere details, condemn almost every night a team that seems to be recovering its ideas but that is still orphaned of a virtue that made it a Champions team before confinement: consistency.

Since the competition resumed, the Real has traveled through LaLiga with a full forehead. With very little, they score a goal, usually before the break. Yesterday, after 21 minutes of dominance txuri urdin, with threats by band, Oyarzabal Combining inside and an apparent control of the situation, an isolated action sent everything to hell.

Granada's first arrival was a goal. It happened against Celta, or against Getafe, or against Levante, with Real ahead. The rival appears, observes, sniffs and bites.

The 0-1 was not a rude mistake although, yes, Real allowed Duarte, one of Granada's three center-backs, to appear at the peak of the area with plenty of time to look for a teammate to put the ball on. No opposition, no one to squeeze him.

At the worst time

What was said, the first, on the forehead. And the second, this time it was preceded by a massive failure of Llorente in a move that if the regulation is not included as offside, it should be. Two arrivals, two goals against.

If something reigns in this league return it is equality. The matches are closed, the differences are smoothed and, almost without rest in the legs – especially in the realistic ones, punished by the uneven schedule -, the victories are decided in punctual plays. It is undoubtedly the worst time to grant. The Royal does not stop doing it.

Tracing a game in this context is almost a chimera, more to a Granada that has not been turned around a marker throughout the course. La Real was close to achieving it. With Barrenetxea, Djouahra, Zubimend
i, Gorosabel, Aihen and Roberto López in the countryside. With Isak and Odegaard headdresses and Januzaj, Illarramendi or Zaldua in the infirmary. It didn't matter. There was caste and above all, there was football, ideas, a plan to get a grip on a Granada whose sides wanted to be anywhere but in front of the realistic extremes.

La Real digested the blows, came out of the break plugged in and tied the game. And he went for the win, for the sixth place, for the challenge to Villarreal on Monday. The 3-2 seemed closer, the crash died in the Granada field, but …

But the third went, again, to the forehead. Another focused comfortable, another ball at the far post, another duel lost to the gaze of Moyá. Another opportunity to limbo.