The absence of Neymar was louder than any voice which could have been heard coming from the training pitch at Tenerife. Running boots and echoing passes were still making sounds from the pitch, but there was something essential in the air — fun. The juice in drills, the laughing in warm-ups, the implicit sense that something impossible could happen at any time — all of it had dulled just a bit without him there. Neymar was not merely their best player. He was the gas.
And now, ahead of their Copa del Rey quarterfinal second leg against Athletic Bilbao, Tenerife had to ignite a spark without him.
Laurence González was alone in his office, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a marker in hand, and three whiteboards filled with diagrams in different states. For days, he had waged the debate within himself about the game plan.
His tried and true 4-2-3-1 had successfully brought them to this stage — a shape that was meant to be fluid in transition, dynamic navigation of space, and Neymar's ability to drift instinctively as he pleased. Now, without Neymar, it just did not fit. The tools had changed.
What demanded to be seen was not beauty so much as survival. Clarity and muscle.
By Sunday evening, he had made the call.
A straight 4-4-2.
Two flat banks of four. Griezmann would pair with Natalio up top — movement and pace partnered with grit and press. Omar and Juanlu would offer width and lungs. Kitoko and Casemiro would anchor the midfield.
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The San Miguel Stadium was buzzing with excitement prior to kickoff. Tenerife had not played in a cup match of this magnitude at home for a long time. There were rival blue and white flags waving wildly in every corner.
Families had arrived hoping to at least catch a glimpse of Neymar, but now were leaning forward and appearing to be rooting on their team regardless. They were trailing 1-0 on aggregate, following the first leg in San Mamés. A clean win would send the match to extra time, while two goals would give them a memorable victory in the footballing annals.
Laurence greeted Joaquín Caparrós in the technical area. The manager of Bilbao welcomed Laurence with a knowing that at least some of the fans would have liked to see Neymar. Caparrós asked, "No Neymar?" to which Laurence nodded while adjusting his collar and saying, "He'll watch the match from the stands." Resuming his explanation he added, "Maybe it's time that some of the other players earned their opportunity to shine."
Caparrós offered a small nod back to Laurence and commented, "Still dangerous, that boy Griezmann . . . "
Laurence did not respond. He was now all eyes on his players as they took up their positions.
From the opening whistle, Bilbao played like a side with nothing to lose. They pressed with intentionality and they pressed high. Javi Martínez and Ander Iturraspe controlled the exclusion zones in the middle like astute generals, not feeding the ball to the strikers. Young but wildly clever, Iker Muniain was disruptive in the unoccupied lines, slicing and dicing, always finding that one pocket of space.
Tenerife shape held. It had to hold. They wouldn't transition the midfield up unless required to! Casemiro was safe and conservative; he played no killer ball and there were no overly ambitious through balls, just standard safe outlets. Kitoko was tackling you as fast as he could - as always. And in the back, Sicilia and Luna fully respected their shape.
For 20 minutes it was a trench warfare-type situation. Long balls. Second balls. Fouls in the middle third to the displeasure of both coaches - the kind of football that only a coach could love.
Then came calamity.
Casemiro got the ball a touch outside his own box. The pass from the keeper, Aragoneses, had its faults, but it was acceptable. He had a moment. Maybe two. But Casemiro hesitated — he scanned for options instead of just clearing the ball — and by the time he chose to roll it wide to Luna, Iturraspe was already on the move.
The pass was weak. Too weak.
Luna tried, but Llorente already noticed it. What a read! Intercepting was child's play. He took a touch to settle, then a touch to shoot.
The finish? Clean — low, hard, into the far corner.
Athletic Club 1 – 0 Tenerife (2–0 on aggregate)
The roar that ensued, was muted by the silent San Miguel stands. Not anger, but disappointment. They understood how they had got to this point. And how one moment, one breath, can dismantle it.
On the sidelines, Laurence stood complacent.
He did not rage. He did not question. He simply blew air from his nostrils and mumbled, "He's got to clear that!"
Victor, sitting next to him, grimaced. "He thought he had time."
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Despite the setback, Tenerife didn't collapse. In fact, they responded better than anyone expected.
Juanlu pushed higher up the left flank, combining with Omar to test the edge of Bilbao's full-backs. Kitoko charged into challenges, setting the tone physically. Natalio began running the channels, pulling defenders out of position. Griezmann, drifting deep and left, started to look like himself again — controlling tempo, demanding the ball.
In the 37th minute, Griezmann threaded a ball through to Juanlu, who pulled it back for Natalio at the near post. The striker connected well — but the shot was blocked bravely by San José.
Three minutes later, a corner nearly caused chaos. Sicilia rose highest, his header glancing just wide of the upright.
The crowd found its voice again. Every half-chance brought hope.
But Bilbao weren't rattled.
They didn't push for a second goal. They didn't need to. They simply dropped five yards deeper, limited the space between their lines and dictated that forces Tenerife into low percentage options. Their maturity shone through.
Laurence had to pace.
The plan had worked — mostly. The 4-4-2 formation was holding. The players were working for one another. But that early mistake had altered the complexion of the tie. Now they needed to score two goals just to force them into extra time. Three goals to win the match.
And Bilbao would not give them that many opportunities.
When the referee blew the full time whistle, the Tenerife players jogged into the tunnel with their heads down. Not because they were ashamed, but the weight of what they needed to do weighed heavy on their shoulders.
The scoreboard at San Miguel was reading:
CD Tenerife 0 – 1 Athletic Club (On aggregate 0–2)
Yet, the fans were applauding them anyhow. For their effort. For their courage.
Inside the dressing room, Laurence didn't need to yell. The room was heavy enough with silence.
He lifted the tactics board up.
"We're not out," he said plainly. "But if we want to change this, we have to go. Now."
He turned to Victor. "Warm up Joel."
Victor raised an eyebrow but didn't argue.
"We switch to a 4-2-3-1," Laurence continued. "Griezmann goes left. Joel plays in behind Natalio. Omar stays wide right. Juanlu drops to full-back."