I thought I post this one here as it mainly focuses on Valencia and their rediscovered form as we all feared when we were drawn up against them. However to be honest I wasn’t that impressed with them. I think it was Barca who mainly played below their usual standard rather than Valencia being all that great. Shame we wont see a full Meazza for this one.
Valencia emerge from adversity to become serious contenders
Despite public fall-outs, a host of injuries and a keeper with a thing for red towels and tantric sex, Valencia are still in with a real shot at the title.
Sid Lowe
February 19, 2007 10:53 AM
The captain hates the president, the playmaker doesn't like the doc, the coach hides in the toilet to avoid the sporting director, and the defensive lynchpin has had enough and is off to the local rivals from up the coast. The goalkeeper is a 38-year-old who drives a bright yellow battered Beetle, has hair the same colour, and a thing about red towels and tantric sex; the boss wears Rupert the Bear's scarf and his auntie Lola's eye-shadow; and the centre-back can't even vent his spleen in anger at it all because it was removed following a car crash.
Meanwhile, the €25m right-winger cheerfully admits that he was breast-fed until he was seven; the dynamic midfielder has a worrying fixation with his ears, which is perhaps because his ears are a worrying fixation; and the full-back finished last night with a dimple pot in one hand, a cigarette in the other and Brazilian music blaring out over the day's big-screen football round-up, while a cardboard Christ the Redeemer looked on, concern in his eyes, mini flags hanging out his wizard's sleeves.
As for the rest of them, the Italian who disgusted his Spanish team-mates by not liking jamón has been walked to the border, the left-winger has glass ankles, and everyone else has been injured, five of them tearing knee ligaments. They have more Davids than the SDP, a brass band with fewer tunes than Status Quo, and a historic tendency to go at the self-destruct button with a sledgehammer.
Yet still Valencia CF might win the league.
Because, last night they defeated FC Barcelona 2-1 at Mestalla, thanks to goals from Miguel-Ángel Angulo and David Silva. And while it wasn't quite the "Bath for Barça" that AS declared this morning - more a quick wipe with a wet flannel - it took Valencia to third, four points off leaders Sevilla and Barcelona. It also gave them a vital, head-to-head advantage over Barça and, perhaps more importantly, confirmed their recent recovery.
Now, Valencia really should be title candidates. The man who went to Ikea and got all confused by the Øg and Skågluk nametags, bringing Rafa Benítez a lamp when he asked for a sofa, has gone. And much as the new sporting director Amadeo Carboni is about as popular as a paediatrician on a housing estate, he has built an impressive squad. The best in Spain, in fact, with the majority of those who won two league titles, plus David Villa, Raúl Albiol, Luis Miguel, Edu, Fernando Morientes, Asier Del Horno, Joaquín Sánchez, and David Silva.
The very public fall-out between coach Quique Sánchez Flores and Carboni, plus podgy president Juan Soler, may even have helped too - much as that sounds as ridiculous as Joe bloody Pasquale. With Quique at loggerheads with Carboni and dressing-room heavyweights David Albelda, Santi Cañizares and Fabián Ayala also furious at the club, the battle lines have been clearly drawn - with squad and coach very definitely on the same side, thus fostering unity in the dressing room. At the club's Christmas party, the players gave Quique a Valencia shirt with Carboni's name on it. As a statement of sides, it was almost as telling as Samuel Eto'o's crazed rant last week.
But if that may have inadvertently helped, what has not are the injuries - and that is the real change in recent weeks. Valencia started the season with four wins and a draw (at Camp Nou) in their opening five. They then went five without a victory. Now they have been beaten just twice in 10.
A number of players have made returns of late but one man stands badly-highlighted head and shoulders above the rest. Those runs coincide perfectly with the injury and subsequent recovery of captain Albelda. He may be unpopular with the press, who did all they could to get him dropped from Spain's World Cup team; he may be a dangerous, clever and untrustworthy political animal; and he certainly is not the most talented of footballers. But it's hard to escape the feeling that Albelda's special brand of nasty bastardry in the middle of midfield is vital for Valencia.
Witness last night, when Albelda was eventually sent off for an assassination attempt on Leo Messi. Valencia again ceded possession, 70% of it, again protected their back four with Albelda, and again played on the break, where they were devastatingly direct, quick and incisive. "Three minutes, two lashes of the whip and it was all over," roared this local morning's paper. Meanwhile, on the sports pages, it said: "Valencia were a model of counter-attack."
But that, alas, may be the problem. It's all well and good playing Barça on the break but, despite such rich attacking talent, Valencia tend to come unstuck when the onus is on them. Their seven defeats have come against Betis, Celta, Recreativo, Racing, Sevilla and Madrid and they're likely to drop more silly points at some stage.
Nor is that the only problem. For, much as Valencia are in with a shout of the title, so are three others. Despite their crisis - complete with that comic for-the-cameras hug, Txiki Begiristain's rip-roaring claim that Ronaldinho is Eto'o's best mate, and Sport's side-splitting insistence that there was no crisis - Barcelona remain the best placed. Sevilla reaffirmed their candidacy last night with a superb 3-1 demolition of Atlético. And even Madrid are somehow still in the race despite another woeful performance and another 0-0 draw, this time against Real Betis.