The VAR reads it in the City

When Simeone stepped on the Ciutat it was Monday. Monday closed, traffic jam, Monday maximum penalty. It did not matter what the reality of the calendar says, incontestable, Thursday 29, that it was not going to be worth, once again. Atleti appeared on the Levante field and this Thursday it would be Monday again in Valencia. And that for a few minutes Simeone would think not this time. He appeared seriously and with ambition to govern before a Levante turned off at the start and conditioned by the losses (with eight changes compared to the last eleven). The Atleti raised the chin with Herrera titular. With personality and hierarchy. And his brand new trident.

Because Atleti commanded and commanded, with an overwhelming dominance that rushed over the men of Pereira, hidden in the cave and with a plan read in old cholista books: locked behind, hunting for error and against it. This is how Morales and Duarte stood before Oblak to greet him, without more damage than this, warm greeting without any danger. Above their heads was already that number, 0-1, which scared the air from Monday to the game. The play would begin and end at Griezmann in the 12th minute. The Frenchman would take that corner that went through Carrasco and Felipe before returning to his head. The granota defense watched as he planted himself before Aitor, as if only with his eyes he could defend himself. Neck twist and bang. Ball to the net. Simeone thought he was breathing Thursday. But the curse of the Ciutat is a monster with several heads.

Atleti took a step back. Pereira smelled it, that João and Griezmann had stopped raining in every blade of the last third of the field, and he pushed his people out of the cave. The third time that Levante stood before Oblak, the goalkeeper was already naked, nonsense by pointless. Corner in favor that Trippier takes horrible. Against granota. Clearance behind Herrera, horrible too, so that everything ends with Suárez falling on Vezo. Penalty. Bardhi dialed it. Thursday was already less Thursday for Cholo.

The photo of the match behind the booth looked like the one from the start of the first half. João was pushing his team on Aitor adjusting his hat. But there were actually seven differences. They controlled the rojiblancos, yes, but each time from further away, with less threat. Meanwhile, the Levante only needed two touches to stand before Oblak, their boots snapping. The Atleti midfield lacked people. Wherever you looked, you only saw granota.

He asked De Paul for the game, his physique, his arrival in the opposite area, and De Paul entered the 58th minute. with Correa. Suárez would go to the bench chewing on a shirt. Atleti had long since lowered their chin, uncomfortable in the game, without speed, numb legs, under that Monday that always reaches them in the Ciutat. João gunned down to fouls, without penalty of yellow, that those all fell to Atleti. And the minutes kept passing. No shots on goal. Until Cunha came out loaded with garlic. Four minutes was enough to cut off all the curse’s heads. He only had to finish off that filtered pass from De Paul so that all his teammates fell on his head with a shower of slaps celebrating the goal.

But that would not be the end. The VAR referee entered the game hooting at 90 ‘. With controversy. If Atleti thought it was to review a possible hand in the Levante area, nothing further: it was for one of Lodi in Atleti, in the previous play. The referee had not seen it, no granota asked for it, but after hearing the call in his ear and passing through the screen, there was Bardhi again, against Oblak, to launch that VAR neo-football penalty to the heart of Atleti. And whisper to him that another day he would not escape to the Ciutat. 2-2. Simeone, from the box, smacked his lips, feeling Monday in everything. It was a while ago, by the way, that a red one had taken him away.