Hugo Sánchez. Madrid legend. #ThereWillBeHaters, yes, but he’s also loved around the world – pentapichichi, European Golden Boot, clinical goalscorer (27 or more in four consecutive seasons between 1986 and 1990); the list goes on. His finishing is incomparable.
Here, nothing but frustration: Sánchez drops to his knees, and rather than screaming “sí” à la Cristiano Ronaldo Ballon D’Or ceremony, he cries out in agony after missing a crucial opportunity versus Paraguay on his home turf at the 1986 World Cup.
Cristiano Ronaldo. Madrid legend. #ThereWillBeHaters, yes, but he’s also loved around the world – pichichi, Ballon D’Or, Best Player (in Europe and in La Liga), Best Forward, Best Individual Goal, European Golden Boot, La Décima champion; the list goes on. His finishing is incomparable.
Here, nothing but frustration: Cristiano drops to his knees, and rather than screaming “sí” à la Hugo Sánchez, he cries out in agony after having his penalty appeal denied during the first half of Madrid’s scoreless draw versus recently-promoted Sporting Gijón. “Why do you do this to me, Rafa?” “Where are you, Karim?” “Why can’t our exciting, flashy team produce a threatening run into the box?” “Why always me?”
The parallels are striking. Hats off, heroico Sporting, but there’s no way in hell that a Madrid side with this kind of attacking power should fail to put the ball between the posts. This, my friends, is the start of a new era, an era in which Florentino let Carlo Ancelotti go fishing so that Rafa could come in and bring decently boring defensive fútbol to life at the Estadio Santiago Bernabéu. Here’s to hoping for a goleada against Real Betis, and to ending the season in a Champions qualifying position.