Chapter 98: Back to La Liga, the race resumes
Since Christmas, there was no rest for elite professional football players.
Playing at a big club was a lifelong dream for most professional football players, but sometimes, it was not until you get there that you truly know the pressure and crazy expectations that come with playing for a big club.
One mistake, and fans would scrutinize it for a long time.
Without the right mentality, you could crumble from the hate alone.
From the Supercopa de Espana straight to the Copa del Rey, and without rest, the football schedule was plunging Barcelona back into league action.
Unlike small clubs, big clubs like Barcelona and Real Madrid compete in almost all the available competitions every year, meaning they play more games than players in small clubs.
There was literally no rest in between.
The Copa del Rey Round of 16 was barely in the rearview, and already La Liga beckoned. Matchday 19 of the Spanish La Liga loomed large, the final league fixture before the halfway mark of the season.
Both giants, Barcelona and Real Madrid remained unbeaten, their shadow duel stretching across Spain like a taut string ready to snap.
This season, no other club in La Liga was simply up to par.
Real Madrid and Barcelona were still neck and neck at the top, tied on points as they gave the 3rd placed club a sizeable distance at the top.
[La Liga- Matchday 19:]
(Getafe vs Barcelona – Coliseum Alfonso Pérez)
For Barcelona, it was an away game in Getafe.
The January night air in Madrid’s southern suburb bit cold, but the Coliseum burned with noise. Getafe’s fans came armed with blue flags and unshakable defiance. Against Barcelona, they would not be silent.
That was the least the fans could do to tip the scales in favor of their beloved club. Against the mighty Barca, any advantage they could secure meant something.
The lineups were released ahead of time.
Getafe started in a 5-4-1 formation with Soria in goal. The upfield players were Iglesias, Dakonam, Mitrovic, Duarte, Rico, Alena, Maksimovic, Milla, Liso, and Mayoral.
They were the ones at home but Getafe were not taking any chances. Against Barcelona, they settled for a highly defensive formation.
As for Barcelona, they started in Hansi Flick’s typical favored 4-2-3-1 formation. Joan Garcia was back in goal, while ahead of him was the defensive quadruple of Kounde, Araujo, Cubarsi, and Alejandro Balde.
Pedri and Gavi formed the midfield duo, while the 4-men in attack were Lamine Yamal on the right, Raphinha on the left, Sam orchestrating through the middle as the CAM, with Lewandowski retaining his spot as the starting striker.
Despite his age, Lewandowski still had something to provide in the biggest stage, evident from his displays in the Supercopa de Espana and the Copa del Rey.
This was why Hansi Flick retained him in the lineup.
From the whistle, the tone was clear; Getafe were not Cartagena. Their five-man defense collapsed into the box, two midfielders screening the backline, leaving Mayoral stranded up front.
While Getafe defended, Barcelona pushed.
And once again, Sam was a menace in midfield as he hovered between the lines, drawing markers like moths to flame.
In the 14th minute, he spun past Maksimović, threading a pass to Yamal. The Spanish wonderkid rifled low, forcing Soria into a sprawling save.
Getafe resisted, snarling into every tackle. Aleñá snapped at Pedri’s heels, and Liso tracked back furiously. The Coliseum roared with every interception as Getafe dug in, doing everything to get a result from the game.
But Sam’s patience broke them.
In the 32nd minute, he drifted wide left, pulling Mitrovic out of the line, then with a delicate croqueta, he slipped inside with silky skill and flair before curving a ball into the box.
Lewandowski rose, his timing perfect, his header unstoppable.
BAM... GOAL!
0–1 Barcelona.
Lewandowski did his trademark celebration, cupping his fists together as he stared at the fans with an ice-cold look on his face.
The Blaugrana end erupted, fists pumping, songs flying into the cold.
Getafe tried to rally after that. A few minutes later, Liso lashed a shot from distance, but Garcia tipped it over. It was their only glimmer of the first half.
The first half came to an end with Barca leading.
The second half started, and Barça maintained control. Pedri dictated tempo in midfield, while Gavi broke lines with aggressive and direct runs. Raphinha almost doubled the lead with a curling effort, rattling the post.
Sam, though, was everywhere... tracking back, starting breaks, dragging Getafe apart as he stamped his authority over the game.
In the 78th, his relentless pressing finally did it as he forced a turnover.
’Opportunity!’
His eyes glimmered as he surged forward, before slipping Yamal through. Yamal drilled it across goal, where Raphinha arrived to tap it into the net.
GOAL!
0–2 Barcelona.
The stadium became as silent as a church as the Getafe morale deflated.
The game ended with thunderous ’Barca!’ chants echoing even in hostile ground; another 3 points secured.
...
(Real Madrid vs Celta Vigo – Santiago Bernabéu)
While Barça dismantled Getafe with patience, Madrid set fire to their stage as they also returned back to La Liga action.
The Bernabéu glowed electric, fans eager for blood after the Copa triumph.
They started in their typical 4-3-3 formation, Courtois in goal, with Arnold, Rudiger, Huijsen, and Mendy making the back 4. The midfield comprised Valverde, Bellingham, and Camavinga, while the attacking trio were Rodrygo, Mbappe, and Vinicius Jnr.
As for Celta Vigo, they started in a 4-4-2 with Guaita in goal. The upfield players were Carreira, Starfelt, Nunez, Dominquez, De la Torre, Tapia, Beltran, Cervis, Iago Aspas, and Strand Larsen.
From kickoff, Madrid pressed like wolves, relentless and aggressive.
As early as the 6th minute of the game, Real Madrid tore the visitors open as Mbappé tore down the channel, leaving Núñez behind. His low cross found Vinícius, who backheeled cheekily into Bellingham’s path.
The Englishman buried it with grace.
1–0 Madrid.
Celta looked stunned, and Madrid smelled blood, the blood of a wounded prey. And they swarmed like Wolves on a hunt.
Rodrygo dazzled in the 22nd minute, skipping past Domínguez with grace and curling one off the bar. Seconds later, Mbappé surged again, this time cutting inside and smashing past Guaita with insulting ease.
2–0.
The Bernabéu erupted.
"Mbappe!" "Mbappe!" The Madridistas chanted.
Now 2 goals behind, Celta were already doomed but they tried to claw their way back as desperation became their fuel.
In the 38th minute, Iago Aspas flicked a clever ball to Larsen who hit it first-time at goal, but Courtois smothered it with ease.
Madrid’s defense, anchored by Huijsen’s composure and Rüdiger’s ferocity never truly wavered as they marshalled Celta’s forwards appropriately.
The first half soon came to an end.
And when the second started, Xabi Alonso’s men began toying with Celta. Alexander-Arnold pushed so high he looked like a winger, whipping in crosses with a sniper’s accuracy.
One of his crosses in the 67th found Rodrygo’s darting run who daggered it into the net behind the goalkeeper.
3–0 Madrid.
The party was complete when Vinícius capped it off in the 85th minute, dancing past two defenders and slotting calmly.
4–0 Madrid.
It was a trouncing, and the Bernabéu sang deep into the night.
[FULL-TIME: Real Madrid 4-0 Celta Vigo]
By midnight, the headlines were clear.
"Barcelona Grind, Madrid Explode – The Race is Unstoppable." – Marca
"Two Giants, One Destiny." – AS
"La Liga’s Perfect Storm." – The Guardian
Both were unbeaten, both were ruthless.
Both were refusing to blink.
And at the center of it all stood Samuel Moses, the Football God, dictating tempo in every sense and leading the pack in every major statistic.
Even when he didn’t score, he bent matches toward himself like gravity.