On Friday the 9th of August, Spain hoisted another international trophy, bringing the curtain down on a summer of celebration, and the 2023-24 season, even if Paris 2024 is not officially part of the FIFA calendar. Four days later, Real Madrid lifted their first trophy of the season, the which could be one of seven this season, with the new World Club Cup potentially meaning it lasts 11 months. “It doesn’t make any sense,” reasoned Dani Carvajal to a nodding audience of journalists in Warsaw, “it’s impossible to play 72 games.”
Just over 12 hours after Luka Modric had completed the formalities to bring home Los Blancos’ 100th trophy, news broke that La Liga were making plans to host one of those games Miami in December, fundamentally altering the very nature of the competition, without warning or consultation with anyone who doesn’t stand to benefit financially. The suggestion that they would find time for a mid-season friendly tournament in Abu Dhabi was surely only there for comic effect?
Even if you were struggling to recognise the sport you fell in love with, obscured by a grimy coal dust the colour of money, all of it was wiped away that very evening, by none other than La Liga’s most dreaded diesel engine. The stifling summer heat and accompanying lethargy evaporated with 90 minutes of Getafe.
They traveled to San Mames to open the season with just 17 players, none of which were forwards. Arguably their best midfielder went off injured after just 40 minutes, and the honest truth is, it was audacious of Los Azulones to think they were there for more than window dressing, as the Copa del Rey deities returned for the new season. Among their ranks, Euro 2024 hero, winner and Athletic loyal: Nico Williams. Even the glaring hole in the Basque side, 20-year-old Alex Padilla making his debut for the injured Unai Simon and Julen Agirrezabala, started pulling off Iribar-esque saves.
Crazy Naija with his first goal in @LaLiga 🇳🇬🤪#LALIGAHIGHLIGHTS #LALIGAEASPORTS pic.twitter.com/EkIaexnACO
— Getafe C.F. (@GetafeCF) August 20, 2024
It was mission impossible – if only Tom Cruise could measure up to Chrisantus Uche though. The 21-year-old defensive midfielder was putting up highlights of his games in Nigeria on dead, dry pitches two years ago. After Moralo (fourth tier) in Extremadura took a chance on him, he cost Ceuta €800 (eight-hundred) last summer and this February, Getafe decided he was worth €500k. And he was worth a point to Getafe, after Jose Bordalas put him up front. Pursuing defenders without thought, getting into, around and behind them, he was responsible for one of Padilla’s excellent saves before he rose high above the clouds and powered the equaliser home.
Not even the introduction of Bilbao’s Prince Williams could spoil his dream. He twisted, jinked, and fired at David Soria, but Getafe’s underdog tenacity was equal to it all, standing tall at the end of the match. Uche, short for words, but abundant in smiles, was immortal in cinema at that moment.
Elsewhere, Girona, robbed of the spine of their team, reminded that their special qualities were attitude, mentality and bravery on the ball, when the stage was set for a chastening fall. Barcelona went to cash-strapped Valencia, with five players aged 20 or under, and three over thirty, just about keeping up with the frantic Saturday night out at Mestalla. Rayo Vallecano, who had not scored away from home since the 11th of February, added the shock factor with a 2-1 win over Real Sociedad at the Reale Arena.
The all-powerful Real Madrid, complete with Kylian Mbappe’s Chamartin globetrotters showed flashes of unstoppable football, but were halted in their tracks by a robust RCD Mallorca. They battered the door down with Vedat Muriqi, but were smart enough to take the ball off the side playing just two players in the middle of the pitch. The beautiful game is increasingly angled towards the wealthy, but a football pitch is still much more level than the world around us.
All of this is to say that football is a generous life partner, it could make a romantic out of a rock. Even when it looks sick and ugly, when it drives you to exasperation, or at times in recent years, downright disgust. Football knows exactly how to keep you coming back, and you know fine well, you can’t get those feelings from anywhere else. Either that, or we’re all addicts in an abusive relationship.
