The world at your feet

The European Super Cup and the Intercontinental Cup are the tails of the comet, the double bonus, relatively easy to collect, that comes from winning the Champions League: a single match that gives a title, usually against a rival one or several steps lower. Madrid did not miss that extra gift against Pachuca. The game only seemed to have the upper hand in the first quarter of an hour. Then Madrid put him to sleep below the trantran threshold until it was decided by the Bellingham-Vinicius-Mbappé trio, in order of appearance. A super goal that was followed by another of the same stature from Rodrygo, this one as a soloist. The definitive proof that the footballers had been far above football, because the goals were worthy of a final and the game, not so much. In the tally of the loot, Ancelotti found himself with his fifteenth title, peak that no one has reached in the club; Modric, with the twenty-eighth; Mbappé, with his first Intercontinental (ninth for the whites), and Madrid with its second cup of the season. Without a doubt, the ones that were closest at hand.

The first Pachuca knew how to hide that between Europe and North America there is still an immense ocean. Tried brave, aggressive self-protection, with moderate to severe pressure and a risky forward defense, because it was an almost blind date between a dizzying forward line and some diesel centre-backs. Nothing of the expected trench, aware that locking yourself in was starting to lose. In ten minutes he forced two saves from Courtois, from shots by Luis Rodríguez and Idrissi, and an exit at the feet of Bautista. Then it turned out that it was the swan song.

Madrid was necessary collaborator in that initial brilliance of the Mexicans with a staging lacking ‘energy’ and full of inaccuracies, a team converted into a weapon of mass distraction. Ancelotti had practically put what there is, an eleven much better armed in attack than in defense, because it is worth remembering that in Madrid the entire starting defense planned in the summer of a year and a half ago (Carvajal, Militao, Alaba, Mendy) is out of service. It does not serve as a mitigating factor in a team forced to win in health and in illness.

A galactic goal

Speed ​​is probably the border between the first world and the others in football. At the pace of the procession the differences become negligible and that happened at the beginning. The Madrid of minimal services seemed to pretend that it was time and not him who completed the work. Vinicius, a pendulum footballer who alternates filigree and alienation, tried to escape from the boring mess sporadically. A self-pass, a sprint, a feint… Very little.

It is true that after the first quarter of an hour Pachuca could no longer maintain control as at the beginning, but the coldness of the match and, above all, of their rival suited them. The point was that the night was long, heavy and unpleasant for the European champion. Given the intensity of the clash and the setting, Qatar, one of the last exhibition halls of world football, the impression was that a well-paid August bowling was being played and not a title with a FIFA badge.

It is taken for granted that the finals are not very poetic, but The pachora with which this was played was an unusual fact. It turned out to be a false lead. Madrid was not sleeping (or was it), but was waiting for the fatal confidence of its prey, who would fall with a single shot. Near the break he received it. The entire galaxy came down on Pachuca in a single play. It was a goal of three tenors with very different degrees of participation: Well, Bellingham’s pass to Vinicius, his emergence was magnificent to escape the defense, set up the Mexican goalkeeper and give Mbappé a goal that he could have scored. A solidarity action to help the most disadvantaged get up, That is, incredibly, the French in this Madrid. Then came five more minutes of white downpour and, again, until the break, the pain of the beginning.

A downhill finish

Pachuca knew that that first goal had finished them off. The second, upon returning to the locker room, confirmed it. Something that lived up to the previous one: Rodrygo’s start, short stop, change of foot and shot placed with the inside next to the post. The VAR wanted to try to get the ball rolling with possible interference from Bellingham, who was in an illegal position, but the truth is that the Englishman did not blind Moreno. This is how the referee saw it live and recorded, in front of the screen.

The match was over for everyone, including Ancelotti, whose lead began to be Sevilla. He removed Mbappé, who had been neither good nor bad, because it was not advisable to tempt fate once the mission was accomplished. Camavinga also left, another one who is in post-convalescence, and Modric arrived at the game, who showed hunger for the final, the one that has allowed him to get here at 39 years old.

The loss of tension was noticeable. Without being scared, Pachuca chained two chances with a reserved prediction, the first of them well resolved by Courtois, who is there even when he is barely needed.

The end was more attractive than the beginning, although without emotion or uncertainty. Madrid was collecting chances and even found a penalty, as fair as it was avoidable, from Idrissi to Lucas Vázquez. It was fair that Vinicius threw it and also marked it. He laid the first stone of this final and the last. From Qatar comes The Best, the goal and the cup, a trip well spent for the FIFA player of the year.

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