When Real Madrid recorded a shot on target just seven minutes into the first half, the football site LaligaMania practically went into meltdown.
The AT Madrid board, in particular, exploded. Fans of Real Madrid, AT Madrid, Barcelona, and Athletic were all mixed together, creating what people called a "hell party."
Posts were flying in at the speed of light, too many to count, and one thread with a lot of replies stood out.
It quoted an article from just the day before.
[There was an article saying, "Over the past 13 days, Atletico manager Javier Aguirre successfully completed the final training session in preparation for the Real Madrid match, and he showed confidence about the outlook, saying, 'You can look forward to it.'" Is he out of his mind?]
└I seriously want to kill him. Do we really have to watch this garbage while eating dinner? My stress just shot through the roof, fck.
└They probably rested for two weeks and then did some last-minute training on the final day :-P
└Man, it doesn't look any different from when we played Barca. If Coupet wasn't there, we would've been finished.
└But is he okay? Coupet had a wrist injury, right?
└Coupet is the only one we can rely on. Atletico, please, stop those damn Merengues' winning streak!!!!!!
└Barcelona supports ATM! Forlan, fight!
└Athletic Bilbao supports ATM too! Aguero, fight!
Derbi Madrileno.
Often called the Madrid Derby, it referred to the derby match between Real Madrid and AT Madrid, two clubs that did not get along.
On days like this, Barcelona and Athletic fans would often join in and cheer for AT Madrid.
As the saying went, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Their shared hatred of Real Madrid formed what was essentially a Barcelona, Athletic, Atletico Madrid alliance.
They wanted Real Madrid gone from the face of the earth, so whenever the Madrid Derby kicked off, they banded together and attacked Real Madrid.
In other words, a strategic alliance.
The funny part was that Real Madrid did not actually consider AT Madrid a true rival.
It was more like an annoying neighborhood kid who kept picking fights despite not having the strength to back it up.
Real Madrid could afford that attitude because their head-to-head record was more than twice as good.
[Hey, it's embarrassing to even call you Madrid. Why don't you just piss off to the Basque Country or Catalonia? You're dragging down the quality of Castilla.]
└Bullshit. If trash like you, Puta Madrid, didn't exist, Spain could become a true superpower.
└Go away, Puta Madrid.
└Madrid, Madrid, Puta Madrid!
As the board kept getting flooded with "Puta Madrid," a term used to insult Real Madrid along with "Merengues," time passed and a few hopeful posts began to appear.
[Wait, guys. We're actually getting better. Assuncao is fighting in midfield and we're slowly raising our possession.]
That was true.
At that moment, Vicente Calderon was filled with the roar of the home crowd, and AT Madrid were gradually regaining momentum.
Only 15 minutes had passed since kickoff.
[Real Madrid started in a 4-1-3-2, but they're operating more like a 4-5-1 now. Atletico's attack is so aggressive that it looks like they want to reinforce the midfield first.]
[Exactly. Zidane, who started as an attacking midfielder, is controlling the match through deep build-up, and Ho-young is dropping into a shadow striker role, tracking Raul at an angle.]
The triangle of Raul, Ho-young, and Zidane began pressing to recover possession.
But AT Madrid responded well to this space-oriented pressing, escaping Real Madrid's pressure and settling into a more stable rhythm.
AT Madrid's defense was weak, but they could do this thanks to the constant movement of Paulo Assuncao and Johnny Heitinga in midfield.
[Atletico has brought a tailored plan to face Real.]
[They're trying to cut off the triangle that Zidane, Ho-young, and Raul want to create. Once that breaks, Real Madrid's flow stalls, and Atletico's approach starts to shine.]
Around the 20th minute of the first half.
Atletico had gained the upper hand in the tactical battle.
Their performance came alive, and the fifty thousand home fans packed into the stands shouted with one voice.
"Atleti, Atleti, Atletico de Madrid!"
As the atmosphere overheated, the tempo of the match kept speeding up.
And as if to reward them, AT Madrid kept gaining advantages through flexible tactical movement.
It did not take long for that to show on the scoreboard.
Only three minutes later.
Thud.
[Super save! Gregory Coupet denies Ho-young again!]
[The saying that class is permanent really fits. If Atletico manages at least a draw today, Coupet winning Man of the Match wouldn't be surprising.]
It did not end there.
Real Madrid's failed attack immediately turned into a counter-attack.
Atletico had finally drawn their blade.
[Assuncao looks to play a forward pass into the space behind Ramos.]
[Maxi Rodriguez takes it. He blows past Ramos with monstrous speed! Maxi Rodriguez! He breaks into the left-side space behind, taking advantage of Ramos stepping into midfield! Choosing Ramos's speed over Salgado's experience is suddenly looking pointless!]
[At the same time, Raul Garcia bursts through the middle!]
Atletico's second line, Maxi Rodriguez, Raul Garcia, and Luis Garcia, began to explode into life.
One of the top five attacking lines in La Liga, they created a dangerous chance in an instant and delivered a decisive opportunity to Forlan.
[Forlan brings it down with his chest! Pepe closes in!]
[He ignores it and goes for the mid-range shot!]
Nineteen meters from goal.
For Forlan, known for his relentless long-range shooting, it was a perfect chance.
But.
Thud.
A physical clash with Pepe knocked him down before he could even swing his leg.
"Aaagh!"
Whistle.
Forlan screamed, and play stopped.
Pepe, however, looked down at him and snapped irritably.
"Hey. Stop acting and get up."
Pepe was different from the start.
He would later become infamous enough for people to make "Pepe foul special" videos, a player known for being rough and violent.
There was even a joke that the reason he could play for Real Madrid despite his ugly face was because he was good at fighting.
Even the nickname he would get later in Korea, "Kkangpepe," showed how hot-blooded he was.
If Diego Costa was a tough guy, Pepe was a thug.
"Hey! Stop acting and get up! You barely got touched."
It was true that it was a minor collision, but Pepe's challenge had been aggressive too.
The referee pulling out a yellow card was only natural.
"Watch it. I'm keeping an eye on you."
"Tch."
As the referee turned and marked the spot for the free kick, Pepe turned away and complained.
"That damn bastard, acting like he's hurt."
"Hey, Pepe!"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it."
Only after Cannavaro rushed over to calm him down did the situation settle.
Then Forlan brushed off his knee and stepped up to take the free kick, and a thunderous roar erupted.
"Di di di di, ego! Forlan! Forlan!"
As Forlan's chant filled the stadium.
He finished his run-up and set himself to strike.
Anyone would think he was going to shoot directly.
The angle fit, the distance fit, and above all, Forlan was known for his free kicks.
But.
[Forlan strikes!]
[Ah, a cross! He chips it into the middle!]
Atletico's carefully prepared set-piece routine.
This was all a feint.
Forlan, expected to shoot, instead delivered a sudden cross, and Raul Garcia, who had already claimed position inside the box, moved sharply.
The ball whipped in like a bullet and met his head perfectly.
One of the best headers in La Liga, he brought even Casillas, the so-called saint, to his knees.
Thud.
"Waaaaaaaaaaaa!"
Atletico's opening goal.
Tens of thousands of flags waved, and the goal song filled the stadium in celebration.
1-0.
Atletico took the lead.
While Forlan and Raul Garcia finished celebrating and began to jog back, Bernd Schuster quickly called Raul over.
"There's plenty of time left, just do what we trained. Atletico's weakness is still their defense."
"Yes."
"Go and keep everyone focused."
"Understood."
Raul understood immediately and returned to the pitch to encourage the players.
They had been hit once, but it was a flow they could reverse at any time.
'We have to.'
But for Ho-young, who was playing his first Madrid Derby, there had never been a moment as nerve-racking as this.
They had conceded first to their local rivals.
Without realizing it, his chest tightened and his breathing quickened.
He realized that facing Barcelona B in the Segunda Division had been child's play.
The pressure you felt on the pitch here was impossible to put into words.
'It feels like I'm the only one tense.'
Ho-young lifted his chin and looked around, thinking that.
In fact, the other players did not look deflated or shaken, even after conceding first.
"Hey!"
A brief pause in play.
Someone was calling to Ho-young from below.
He looked up and saw Pepe gesturing for him.
Ho-young ran over, and Pepe smacked him on the back of the neck.
"Ah!"
"Relax!"
"I'm not nervous. My head's just busy."
"Don't worry and just play! We trained like crazy for two weeks. If we do what we practiced, those defenders won't even get near your feet."
Hearing that from Pepe, who had just made the mistake, felt strange.
Still, it helped.
"Look at that guy. He's even more nervous than you."
Pepe pointed at a young Atletico player.
He was 20, but his face still looked fresh, like a youth player.
His name was Sergio Aguero, a dribble-heavy striker who led Atletico's attack.
"I've played against him before."
"Yeah?"
"Beijing Olympics semifinal. Back then, he didn't stand out much because Messi and Riquelme took the spotlight, but seeing him here feels different."
"He's your rival today. He won the Golden Boy last year, and this year he's even on the shortlist for FIFA World Player of the Year."
He had scored 19 league goals last season, won the 2007 Golden Boy, and this season he had already scored four, tied with Ho-young.
"Got it."
"Good. I'm counting on you."
Ho-young nodded, his competitive fire burning, and went to Raul.
"Captain."
"Judging by your face, you're itching to get going. Don't rush. Stay patient and keep working. You need to play into the second half today."
"Yes."
"And the chance will come soon."
Late in the first half.
Atletico's weakest stretch of the match was approaching.
(To be continued.)