Chapter 119: Real Madrid’s war; the nerves of the Pizjuan
[Copa del Rey Semifinal:]
(Real Madrid vs Sevilla)
The first leg of Barcelona’s war was over, and they came out victorious.
But Spanish fans didn’t switch their focus yet, this was because just like for every other tournament this season, they knew that right behind Barcelona, another Spanish giant club was about to flex their muscles.
And they were right, right behind Barcelona was Real Madrid’s semifinal draw against Sevilla.
On paper, compared to Barcelona’s draw, Real Madrid had the advantage against a weaker side in Sevilla but sometimes, football doesn’t follow scripts and data written on paper.
Football was unpredictable, even more so in cup competitions where a single moment of individual brilliance could mean the difference between victory or defeat between two teams.
A team may be superior, but sometimes, all it takes for them to lose is for just one man in the opposition team to hit the state of flow, and everything scatters.
To make matters worse, the first leg of Real Madrid’s semifinal draw against Sevilla was to be played in Seville, at the Ramon Sanchez Pizjuan.
The pressure cooker was on, but Madrid’s superstars were ready to rise up to the challenge, even more so after Barcelona won their game.
The last thing they wanted was to lose at a stage where Barcelona already won. It would prove that the Catalan giants were better than them, and that was a reality that no Real Madrid fan or player wanted to live.
And so, they locked in.
Time moved fast and in a jiffy, it was D-day.
26th February, 2027...
It was a cool evening in Seville, but the presence of tens of thousands of a raucous crowd in white and red turned the atmosphere hot and electric.
The Ramón Sánchez Pizjuán was trembling.
Sevilla might not have the resources of Madrid, but they had something else, a stadium that turned into a furnace on cup nights.
Alongside the white and red shirts that seemed endless across the stands of the stadium, white flags whipped in the air, chants booming from every corner like war chants, and the air itself seemed to pulse with defiance.
This was the Copa del Rey semifinal.
For Sevilla, it was a chance to write history. For Real Madrid, it was a chance at redemption in another cup competition after the humiliation of the Supercopa loss weeks ago.
The Madrid bus rolled through narrow Andalusian streets, fans in red and white pressing close, banging windows, and spitting insults all in an effort to get into the head of the opposition players before the game.
Inside the Madrid bus, silence reigned.
Mbappé leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he took it all in. Bellingham stared out the window, his expression steel as he observed the demonstration of the Sevilla fans with an impassive look on his face.
Vinícius? He hummed faintly with headphones on, masking the storm with the catchy lyrical genius of Kendrick Lamar in his ears.
As for Xabi Alonso, he stood tall at the front.
His voice was calm and clipped as he addressed his players right there in the bus. "Sevilla will make this a war. The first twenty minutes will feel like fire, but endure it. You can, then punish them."
The lineups were released.
For Sevilla, they started in an attacking 3-4-3 formation in a bold display of statement from their head coach with Vlachodimos in goal while ahead of him was the trio of Marcao, Cardoso, and Azplicueta in defense.
The midfield quadruple comprised Suazo, Mendy, Aguome, and Carmona, while the attacking trio were Vargas, Romero, and Sanchez.
As for Real Madrid, it was their typical 4-3-3 with Courtois in goal, Arnold, Rudiger, Huijsen, and Carreras in defense, Bellingham, Camavinga, and Valverde in midfield, and with Rodrygo, Mbappe, and Vinicius upfront in attack.
The stadium announcer’s voice was drowned out by a tidal roar as the teams walked out. Boos welcomed Madrid’s players, but when Sevilla’s own player came out, white-hot flares lit the stands as Sevilla’s ultras pounded drums like war.
And then...
FWEEEE!
The whistle blew.
Immediately, Sevilla charged like men possessed as they made their statement clear; they were not here to defend.
From the very first minute, they pressed high, snapping into tackles and closing every passing lane. Mendy slid through Valverde early, rattling Madrid’s midfield while Vargas tore down the wing, forcing Huijsen to scramble back.
By the 10th minute, Madrid were pinned back, Sevilla roaring with every interception. Mbappé barely touched the ball, Vinícius was hounded by Azpilicueta, and Bellingham was sandwiched every time he looked up.
The game was cagey and tight as Madrid suffered, and then came the breakthrough in the 18th minute of the game.
Sevilla’s relentless energy finally paid off as the right winger, Sanchez wriggled free on the edge of the box, slipping a pass into Romero.
The striker turned sharply from Rudiger and lashed a sneaky low shot. Courtois got a hand to it, but it was not enough as it sneaked into the net.
GOAL! 1–0 Sevilla.
BOOM!
The stadium erupted, a wall of sound threatening to collapse the sky itself. Romero raced to the corner flag, arms outstretched.
Simeone’s defeat of Madrid in the Supercopa had set the tone, and all they had to do was follow the same script that Simeone’s Atletico used. Now, Sevilla smelled blood too.
Madrid staggered after that goal but Alonso was quick as he gestured furiously on the touchline, urging calm. "Settle! Pass!" He roared.
Sevilla could not keep that rapid tempo up for the whole game though.
Slowly, the visitors began to find their rhythm. Camavinga started to drop deep, knitting passes to escape the press, while Valverde drove forward with his trademark surging runs, shifting momentum inch by inch.
Then, in the 35th minute, Madrid struck back.
It started with Bellingham wriggling free of Suazo and threading a pass between the lines. Mbappé, lurking at the shoulder of Marcao, exploded into space as soon as the ball was played.
His first touch was velvet, and his second touch a rocket.
POW!
The goalkeeper didn’t even see it coming as the ball thundered past Vlachodimos into the roof of the net.
GOAL! 1–1.
The stadium groaned in despair, the white flags sagging a bit, but Mbappé didn’t even celebrate. He simply raised his chin and stared at the stands, as if daring them to boo louder.
The first half ended in chaos with Sevilla pouring forward, and Real Madrid countering with venom.
Vinícius danced through two defenders with electric pace and skill, only to be chopped down by Azpilicueta.
Vargas’s free-kick skimmed the bar, while on the other side, Arnold whipped in a cross that Rodrygo nearly converted at the back post.
It was chaos at the end, but then, finally, the referee’s whistle sounded again to bring the first half to an end.
FWEEEE!
[HALF-TIME: Sevilla 1-1 Real Madrid]
The Pizjuán still roared at the end, but unease crept in. Madrid had bent due to their high octane intensity in the first half, but they had not broken.
Now, the question was... could they keep up that high octane tempo?