Two torpedoes for Celades

The goals from Alcácer and Gerard in the first half leave Villarreal fifth, just three points behind the Champions League, and Valencia in the abyss.


The derby ended at 18:55 this Sunday and at this time I imagine the Villarreal players doing weights in the gym, while they whistle, and the Valencia players on the stretcher, eating sugar in handfuls and gasping. The break has been the same for everyone, but the plans to face the confinement seem to have had their phases and intensities as well. How Albiol, Cazorla and Bruno run loaded with years and you have to see how far the new sap of Valencia walks. The rest before this duel, almost double in favor of Calleja's team, could be the key to summarize a result that could have been more bulky by recounting the occasions. In fact, it will be the excuse for many. However, this comes from afar. The Submarine has 13 points out of 15 in the new normal, with a football that everyone envies, and his opponent has not won at home since the end of last year.

The Celades team lives in a constant extension. His life has stabilized on the edge of a wire and from there he emits his (in) vital signs. It doesn't matter if they focus on the first minute or on the discount. The faces of the staff are that this will end immediately. He still has options to reach any goal, but he does not seem convincing since he drags all possible fears and slides with the ailments of the one who has more anguish than passion. As if playing was a duty and not a pleasure. Thus, Villarreal passed him in the first half based on intensity, game and goals. Alcácer and Gerard, a couple who could play together in red in Euro Cups and World Cups, gave away two works of art, with impressive volleys for precision and plasticity, which put their team fifth just three points behind the Champions League and away from five to his eternal rival in the fight to secure the Europa League.

The meeting had more proper names. For good, the reliability of the Albiol-Pau company remains there; the pearls, with square and bevel, of Asenjo and Cazorla at 2-0; and the impudence of Chukwueze. To bad, beyond Gayà's injury, the permissiveness of the che defense, the low weight of Wass as a midfielder in the match and the null thanks of Maxi to the group for an opportunity that few expected after the civil war during the week. Rodrigo had to run his and hers. Valencia, after succumbing in a bad way until the 45th minute, threw pride in the second half with higher pressure and with a better sharpened tusk. Guedes could have been the standard bearer and offered only a couple of good runs. It was too late to put makeup on, since it was still taking a world to regain possession to propose and break lines. The party requested from the warm-up the energy of Kondogbia, Coquelin and company that did not arrive. While Celades, already in the pillory, struggles for some of his men to give at least fifty percent of what they have inside for two days in a row, Calleja, on his throne, sees how Gerard is, in the same game, the Santisima Trinidad de LaLiga: a wasp like seven, a predator like nine and a ballroom dancer like ten. This derby will forever be associated with your photo and signature.



Photos from as.com
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