la liga: real madrid-deportivo la coruna

Spain’s comedy team at it again this weekend in a home mach against Deportivo la Coruña, they of the dead cool pink and black away kit. The Sky Sports commentators can’t seem to stop talking about David Beckham and his recall to the England national team. This is in reality likely to affect the same magical revival in the fortunes of the England national team that his exclusion after the World Cup did. Why is Real Madrid so full of discredited international superstars? Well, because in Madrid they’re still fed and watered and called the G-word.

Still love Raúl, though.

+ Hate that the once perpetually shiny, smiling Fabio Cannavaro now plays with a grimace on his face, as some pundit [James Lawton?] recently observed about Ronaldinho. The regrowth of his hair is a good sign, however. Dolce & Gabbana await. Someone should tell Gago the same thing in attempting to rescue him from the clutches of the Evil Dead. The barettes = much better appreciated in Italy, anyway.

+ Defend us, heav’n. Three months between this Madrid game and the last one we watched, the football is now worlds apart from the sort we saw back then, but the overwhelming feeling of precious irrecoverable minutes of our life we will never get back assails with cruel inevitability.

+ OH GOD, SERGIO RAMOS SCORES. Where else in the world is this likely to happen? Impossible. Surreal and strange and impossible. Lovely hairband, though, and the somersault is heartening, a rare and real sign of life among the Zombie Whites.

+ And Gago goes down. Sky Sports commentators insist on calling him ‘Gag-go,’ the way Kaká is ‘Cack-ka.’ No penalty given. Gago maybe counts drama on his list of social accomplishments? Man cannot live by hair product alone, after all, certainly not a red-blooded Argentine, whose hair style should very much be along the lines of opposing defender Coloccini’s, at any rate.

+ So what is it with Becks in the Andrea Pirlo role? Why is he all over the place? What happens to everyone else that he actually starts to look like a doer in spite of his rash of yellow cards and vacant smile? Why is Depor suddenly acquiring similar rash of their own?

+ Depor almost scores! And then doesn’t! Because, shock, awe, Roberto Carlos is in the right place at the right time! It draws a grin from Cannavaro, at any rate. Never let it be said the man doesn’t have an excellent sense of humour.

+ Robinho goes down. Another free kick for Bex. Cannavaro robbed of the opportunity to make it two up for Madrid by Depor choke.

+ HERMIONE GRANGER. That is who Gago looks like! Or that child actor who portrays her, at any rate.

+ Poor Iker Casillas. Always pissed off. Keeping goal for Madrid will do that to a person. Aaaand, it’s half-time.

+ Oh goodness, really considering abandoning comments entirely, match so sans gumption. Depor takes an unfortunate free kick. Obviously Lady Luck is twelfth man for Real. However, note that Robinho has abandoned the canary yellow boots for something out of The Wizard of Oz. Good for you, little man.

+ We saw the last third of the Valencia-Villareal match before this, and remain amazed by the difference in what we consider a game representative of la Liga, and an RM game. The general impression of Real’s game plan seems to be: run around making a nuisance of yourself, fall over, make for stoppage time, crunch in a set piece. Oh, look, here’s one again.

+ Becks hits the post with a free kick. Sky Sports orgasms.

+ Casillas makes a triple-save. We hear there are still some actual Real fans left – you guys want to band together and set up a ‘Send The Poor Man On Vacation’ fund sometime? It’s a wonder he has any nerves left.

+ HAHAHHAHA, CAPDEVILA scores. Well, it was coming. Real 1-1 Deportivo.

+ RAÚL! Oh, what a positively decent header! Oh, how Real’s bad comedy vibe has rubbed off upon Depor! Oh, the humanity!

+ Diarra keeps getting knocked down. Excellent to see the enterprising spirit of Guti lives on even when he is on the bench with a flu.

+ Really hope Kaká is watching this. His team put on a show almost as bad as an average Real effort on the night of the Champions’ League final, but he should know what he will be in for if he ever decides that white makes him look prettier. As for the big-mouthed Zlatan Ibrahimovic, who seems to enjoy putting his career on the line week after week with ill-chosen words, this should definitely afford the sight of how, exactly, a career can die. Painfully.

+ Another Bex free kick. Goes to waste. Think will go eat some curds and whey.

+ Depor free kick (really, we are not trying to develop a theme here. This is almost minute-by-minute). Straight to Casillas. Depor keeper way prettier, must say. And rather obviously just as angry.

+ This game is so dire. Must abandon to save last vestiges of sanity. Twenty minutes more might damage brain irreparably. Shall we? Shan’t we?

+ Hey, where’s little Gonzalo Higuain? Come on out, baby. < / disturbing quasi-eratophilia >

+VAN SCHNITZELROOY! OH, WHAT ELSE IS NEW! Gods, what a man.

+ Robinho out. HAY GUTÍ.

+ Leave the pink shirt alone, Roberto Carlos.

+ Leave the somersaults to Sergio Ramos, Roberto Carlos.

+ When will this end? When? Are we stuck in some devious parallel universe where Real Madrid is always playing football? What have we done to deserve to be locked into same?

+ Roberto Carlos in handbags, #46794376. At least he did not forget to leave the pitch. Hello, Cicinho.

+ Higuain, little Higuain! W00t!

+ Four minutes of injury time. All we can gather up is a feeble moan of protest.

+ Higuain so enthusiastic. Pity about the team, really.

+ Game over. OH THANK HEAVEN. * pop eyeballs back in and crawl off*

Never again, we promise.

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Alright, we’re also watching Barca-Getafe. Not doing reactions [other than Y DECO Y U SHAVE UR HEAD], but the Messi-Eto’o-Ronaldinho action to set up the first goal has already begun to repair our ravaged brain.