May 16, 2021

Carvajal pulls Madrid against Valencia | sports

Carvajal pulls Madrid against Valencia | sports


At the cry of Carvajal, Madrid subdued a disappointing Valencia, shrouded, nothing to do with the one that steeled his story last season. Once again a Valencia without a hanger with its curriculum, permeable in front of a Madrid without a montage to offer, but less dispersed, more courageous. And trained by the heart in the bones of Carvajal, the best rhyme of a Real that in these times is pincer of whatever. Without galactic or anything, blessed is Carvajal.



Real Madrid

4-3-3


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Sale Isco



Yellow card

Yellow card

Dani Ceballos


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Federico Valverde leaves

Modric


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Marco Asensio leaves

Bale


Yellow card

Yellow card

Gayá


Yellow card

Yellow card

Gabriel Paulista


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Cristiano Piccini comes out

Wass


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Sale Kondogbia

Coquelin


Yellow card

Yellow card

Carlos Soler


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Sale Batshuayi

Gameiro



Valencia

4-4-2 (D.P.)

Madrid did not appear for Madrid. Neither his shadow, or any relative of the group that returned to his planet last year with the return to a Champions League that has already fallen. To make matters worse, La Castellana only appeared Wass, out of place, threaded with forceps as right side, author of a own goal that fell to Madrid before Madrid said or mu. To regulate the Real, more than enough to desnortar to a Valencia that was the nudity during almost an hour, a team that gave in from the warm up. With half a leg he beat the team of Solari. Without being a painter, but with bone, self-denial and order. Nothing of that had the team of Marcelino, made ashes in Chamartín.

Solari wanted to rest Kroos, who, again, had Llorente reel and Ceballos another opportunity. And in sight, this time at least on the bench, Isco. What he saw the malagueño only had to do with his team. A Real asset, which gave Carvajal pause, a thunder, a first cornetist. There is no defender right for the planet as recreational football for their own as Carvajal. To his whistle, and with Ceballos as a rigger, Madrid was enough to portray his adversary as a papier-mache team. From start to finish of the first act, Valencia was a withered team before taking off their tracksuit. Neither gave time to Wass, good llegador in Celta, side deficient in Valencia, who stuck his head in the opposite direction. A grateful pity for a Madrid that had not had time or to be expansive. Marcelino, an hour later, withdrew the Danish in favor of Piccini, a more categorical side.

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    two

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    62

Before the Valencia ceased to be a disappointment, back in the second half, Madrid gave a lesson throughout the first section. Nothing museum, but with enough effort to take the chain Levantine set. Played Modric, swept Llorente, dictated Ceballos … And, of course, the chest do of Carvajal, more rower than Reguilón, content as a relay of Marcelo in the left-handed band. At the stroke of the kidney and with more fang, Madrid was much more than its opponent until the break. Then, the observatory was another.

After the break, he moved from a busy Madrid to a more intimidating Valencia. From the cold chest team of the first period to a team more buccaneer after the interval. To the point that Solari felt compelled to move. They had Bale, Modric and Ceballos. Madrid already capitulated when even the Argentine coach had to rectify with Isco, attempt to hook for the last minutes. Before the capsize of Madrid, Valencia fell short. Amagó, without more. Courtois, when he seemed most comfortable, stood firm before a couple of splashing visitors.

No matter how much Solari changed, the remedy was already on the ranch. He tightened the set ché, with more appearance than dynamite, but Carvajal never left the game. An incursion of his led to the second local goal. As a picket, Carvajal launched into the adventure. On their own, because this Madrid is not choral, rather spasmodic. Carvajal was descamisó, and of his mind Lucas Vázquez took advantage after putting Benzema the play between parentheses. Final point for a Valencia off-plan at the beginning and with little chicha when he made believe that the duel, ambulant, was already his. Without Guedes or Parejo in front, the clash was a matter of remangue. And nobody had it more than Carvajal, the rocket that the Real raised, in good times and bad times. Nothing to do with Bale, presumed totem of a Madrid without a flag. If there is, this time at least, that of Carvajal. This is Madrid without beacons, which comes and goes by Ipurua, Rome or at home against Valencia. A shot in the air. Win or lose, play does not play. Of course, neither the Valencia, a birria of beginning and without nuclear weapons later. Ideal for this Royal nomad, who suddenly hangs up on people like Carvajal, a Spartacus, or half a step in front of Llorente. Isco, Bale and Asensio are not in flip-flops. Hanging from the scaffolding, Madrid stands.



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