Champions League: Madrid always comes back | Sports

Yellow cards Eder Militao (min. 13) and Rüdiger (min. 17)

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Before the ball was released, Chelsea put a presenter on the pitch: “Welcome back to Stamford Bridge (welcome back to Stamford Bridge)”, which could be interpreted as the usual script, or also with a certain evocative aftertaste. Especially seen from the Madrid side, that the last time he had played here he had done it with empty stands. It could also be the foretaste of what awaited Courtois, who left the club to join the rival of the night.

When a few minutes later the Belgian went to take possession of his goal, boos roared from the north end. Under that, Courtois completed his ritual: he hit one stick, then another, and ended up hanging briefly from the crossbar.

Madrid returned to Stamford Bridge, yes, but as Tuchel had anticipated the previous afternoon, it was not the same team. To begin with, because Ancelotti had chosen eleven healthy players. The year before, in May, Zidane went out with Mendy and Ramos without being recovered, Kroos with pubalgia and Hazard far from what he had been. And among Ancelotti’s healthy eleven, Valverde, the potion against the lack of energy detected in last year’s elimination, that mantra.

Valverde did almost everything on the right wing. When the team defended, he sank down to position himself as a winger, in a defense of five, which pushed Carvajal to position himself as third center back. When they went on the attack, they went up the wing, from area to area, always with gasoline to return. He protected Carvajal, very imprecise, and contributed to the start.

Madrid waited lying down without feeling threatened and when they recovered the ball they stampeded out. It was the return to the comfortable low block-race combination in which Ancelotti had taken refuge after the first failed attempts at high pressure. This is how the first scare came to Chelsea. A robbery by Valverde, a pass to Benzema, who returns with a heel so that the Uruguayan launches Vini Jr., who cuts and shoots the crossbar.

This is how Madrid lived, less anguished than last year, much less drowned out by a midfield occupied at first by Kanté, Jorginho and Mount. They found many more exits than the other time, with patience behind, and acceleration from the middle of the field. That’s how the 0-1 came. Benzema sent Vini running, who put the ball on his head. The Frenchman unleashed a powerful shot that froze the stadium and reassured Ancelotti a bit, worried about the suffering Militão, who had received a blow to the right side. Nacho was already warming up in the band.

Headbutt to Headbutt

With the Brazilian still clutching his ribs, it was soon 0-2, another header from Benzema, but from a very different record. Modric dropped a squishy, ​​floating center, which the Frenchman subtly hit as he ran back. Very far from Mendy, very delicately. The scoreboard accentuated the calm with which Madrid deployed its waiting plan, while Chelsea carried the ball from one side to the other. In one of those trips from the windshield, Jorginho hung a cross behind the defenders and Havertz headed it 1-2.

Tuchel moved chips to return from the break: Kovacic for Christensen, Ziyech for Kanté and went to defense of four. It did not give time to know anything about the effect that the movement could have. Edouard Mendy’s blunder in a pass to Rüdiger was caught by Benzema, as always when a goalkeeper falls asleep.

Chelsea only produced a few minutes of restlessness and embarrassed Madrid with the second round of substitutions, when Lukaku and Loftus-Cheek came on. A couple of occasions, a couple of anxieties at the start, a save by Courtois, and Ancelotti recharged the batteries: Camavinga for Kroos. And the rebellion subsided.

But the ailments began, which worried more than for the night at Stamford Bridge for the one at the Bernabéu. Benzema and Valverde, the two best, limped off to the bench and Gareth Bale was seen again in white for a few minutes, the only one who went to the locker room without greeting the Madrid fans. There was one last resistance exercise that Madrid overcame with skill. Tuchel was right: nothing was like last year.

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