The Alfa Romeo Metaphor

Round 1: Atletico Sanluqueno v. Cadiz CF

El Palmar stadium in Sanlucar de Barrameda is tiny. The ground is surrounded by palm trees, hence the name. They say it seats 5,000. Maybe. I hadn't seen a changing room this small since Bologna sent me on loan to Como and I got to see all the small stadia in small towns throughout Italy. Cramped, stinky and with one working toilet. In other words, typical. The temperature was 30 degrees (nearly 90 for you Americans) and our changing room was already sweltering. The two thousand Los Atletistas were singing their hearts out, but I could hear the traveling Cadistas singing what has become the supporters anthem:

"Alcohol alcohol alcohol, we came here to get drunk and the result doesn't matter!"
​

They alternated with the chant:

"We love your palms"

​
I'd posted the line-up the day before so I didn't have to announce the team sheet. Secundo B4 has an annoying rule that I can only suit 5 substitutes. I decided to go without a goalkeeper. I was pretty sure that I'd have players melting by 80 minutes and would need subs.

GK: Alejandro
Defense: Alberto Dalmau, Ricardo Chara, Mikel Martins (C) and Andres
Midfield: Jorge Luque and Mehdi Nafti flanked by Perico and Kike Lopez.
Forwards: Michael and Aymen Souda

Subs: Josete (D/DM/M), Juan Carlos Ceballos (RB), Juan Villar (M/F), Kike Marquez (M/F) and Airam (F)

The game kicked off and we knocked the ball around for a while. The San Luqueno players chased the ball around, but couldn't hold onto it for more than a pass or two.

Mehdi Nafti set the tone by clattering through their central midfielder Chico about five minutes in. The ref whipped out a yellow card faster than a Wild West gunslinger would draw his pistol in a duel.

"Ref, he got the ball!" I bellowed.

"He got the ball," I said to the fourth official. He ignored me. "We are allowed to tackle the ball, aren't we?" He continued to ignore me.

In the seventh minute, Michael flicked a header out to the left flank where Perico took it and raced goalwards. San Luquenos fullback couldn't keep up. Their central defender sprinted over to cover as Perico entered the penalty area and headed toward the goal. He nutmegged the hapless defender and smashed a shot from a tight angle over the goalkeeper's shoulder. The keeper barely had time to flinch.

I pumped my fists in jubilation and jumped into Paco's arms. What a start!

Perico continued to terrorize the Atletico defense. In the sixteenth minute, he beat his defender and the poor fullback grabbed onto his shirt and hauled him down. The ref only gave a free kick.

"Isn't shirt pulling a yellow card offense?" I asked the fourth official. He ignored me.

Chara and Nafti jogged forward and Luque adjusted where the ball sat. The Atletico manager was screaming at his defenders to mark Michael who was standing all alone at the back post. Luque heard him and curled a screamer at the back post. It looked like it might go over his head but Michael took several steps back, rose majestically and thundered a falling-away header between the man on the post and the flailing goalkeeper.

0-2 Cadiz!!

The Cadistas started chanting:

"Michael's really good, you might want to mark him."

​
There were a few worrying moments. Atletico eventually did get a hold of the ball and attacked down the flanks. Andre, who always scared me when he played defense, was doing better than Alberto Dalmau, but he wasn't doing much to slow or stop them. Dalmau was either getting caught forward or was more like a broken down fence ... in other words, they were walking right over him.

"Dalmau, Dalmau!" I shouted. Alberto looked over at me. I'm a human megaphone so everyone in the stadium heard me. Maybe even the people in the nearby apartments. "Stay back. Keep them in front of you, don't dive in."

He nodded.

Dalmau and Andre managed to slow their attacks but seem not to be able to stop anything. I looked at Alejo. He shrugged rather hopelessly. He knew he'd be working on defending the flanks during the week.

Kike Lopez won a corner five minutes from half time. Everyone was standing around the penalty spot jostling. The ref delayed the corner twice to tell them to stop. A lot of good that did. During this time Nafti had stepped away from the wrestling ring around the penalty spot and took a deeper, far post position. His marker went with him. Perico saw this and smashed a low one hop blast across the six yard box toward Nafti. His marker wrapped his arms around him and they tumbled to the ground. Nafti somehow managed to swing a leg at the ball and smashed it past their keeper!

0-3 before half time! I was ecstatic.

The Cadistas started chanting:

"If you want a kiss Nafti or you want his shirt, you just have to ask!"

​
At halftime, I told them they were doing great. I didn't bother to talk to Andre and Dalmau about defending the flanks better. We were going to have to work on that during the week. Alejo was talking to them anyway.

The second half started much the same as the first, but Atletico were more determined to win the ball back. They scored a quite pretty goal, but we could have defended it better.

Their lone forward Robert received a pass in the center circle. Their left winger, Jorge Pina, made a run down the inside left channel. Dalmau failed to react in time. Robert spun around Nafti and sent a pass between Dalmau and Chara and directly into the path of Pina. Alejandro came charging out. Dalmau and Chara were catching up with Pina as he looked to be about to try to dribble around Alejandro.

Then he slowed and chipped the ball over Alejandro. Alejandro stopped and scrambled backwards trying to get a fingertip to the ball. Dalmau continued sprinting back but the ball dropped under the crossbar and bounced into the net.

Even the Cadistas cheered that goal.

In the 52nd minute, the Atletico right back chopped down Perico. Michel sprinted out onto the pitch and knelt down next to Perico. He immediately looked up and singled for a switch. I pointed at the other Kike (Marques) to get ready. Perico leaned on Michel and hobbled off.

"So kneecapping isn't a bookable offense in the Secundo?" I asked the fourth official.

"You better watch your mouth," he replied. He does speak after all!

Martins and Nafti were talking to the defenders while Perico lay on the field. Whatever they said helped. Our defense was compact and resolute. The rest of the game mainly took place in the center of the pitch. Just a few more bookings for both sides; Martins and Luque were both booked for cynical fouls when Atletico appeared to be building momentum.

Surprise, surprise! There was four minutes of extra time. Eventually the ref blew the final whistle, but the game had fallen asleep by the 80th minute anyway.

The players were in a great mood in the sweaty, dank and infernally hot changing room.

"Get showered, I've told the driver to turn on the air," I yelled over the hubbub. "We can talk on the bus where it's cool. Great performance everyone, I'm really pleased. Here's a bag of team tshirts and shorts. You guys deserve some cool and comfort after that performance. Great start to the season."
 
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Cocaine crisis!

"Enrico," Paco said when I answered my cell. "Are you you sitting down?"

"Well, yes, I'm driving in right now," I replied. "I'm a couple of minutes away. What's going on?"

"It's Michael, he's been banned," Paco explained. "For cocaine. Have you read your emails yet this morning?"

"**** no!?! Do we need bail him out of jail?"

"No," Paco replied.

"Huh?"

"The email says that the Brazilian federation have banned him and FIFA have made it a global ban," Paco explained.

"Wait. This all stems from before we signed him on loan? Why the **** couldn't ****ing Fluminense have told us this before we signed him for the season? The ****ing ******s and their *** ******* ***-****ing **** ****** of ********."

"Some of that was even in Spanish," Paco observed.

"******* **** ****ing **** ******** ****," I continued. "*** ***** **** *******. He was the key to our season."

"You're not taking this well," Paco observed once again.

"**** no, I'm not. The ****ing *** ******** *** ***** **** ********* *****!" I cursed. "They can ****** **** ***** **** my ***** **** and then ***** **** ******** *** my ***** **** *******!"

"Feel better, yet?"

"Not yet. The ***** ****** *********** **** ****** can ***** *** ******** ****** in their ****** *** *******!" I continued. "Now I feel a bit better. I'm in the parking lot now. I'll be inside in a second."

My level of panic had only risen once I slammed my car door and stomped into the cafeteria. Everyone else was already there.

"How long is the ban?" I asked once I'd gotten an espresso from Herc.

"Year and a half," replied Paco.

"A ****ing year and ****ing half?" I replied incredulously. "******** **** ****."

"We move on," Javi said. "We've got Aymen and Airam."

"Villar and the Kike's can cover if either get injured or suspended," added Llorente.

"You calm now?" Paco asked me.

"Yeah," I replied. "I'd better call Alessandro and see if we can nab another loan signing."

I speed-dialed and walked off as my phone rang.

"Good morning, Enrico."

"We're ****ed in the ****** **** *******, Alessandro," I began.

"What?"

"Michael had tested positive for cocaine back in Brazil," I continued. "His federation and FIFA have banned him for a year and a half. Can you see if there are any loaners available and move on them?"

"It's deadline day," he replied. "I'll see what I can do."

I rejoined my staff and we reviewed yesterday's match and planned out the upcoming week.

A half hour into training, my cell buzzed. It was Alessandro.

"Bad news, Enrico," he began. "I found two who would be willing to sign."

"And why is this bad news?" I asked.

"Our loan payment went through first thing this morning," Alessandro replied.

"And?"

"We're broke," he replied. "Our account is negative. We can't pay even a loan signing fee."

"***** *** ******* **** *** ******!" I replied. "What a ***** ********* **** ****** Monday. Can't you talk to the bank?"

"Already tried that."

"Wait, can't Manzano put some cash into the account?"

"He probably won't okay the outlay, anyway," Alessandro replied. "He's been in a real stingey mood lately. Sorry, man."

"Well, thanks for trying, Alessandro," I replied. "Ciao."

"Ta ta."

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dariodecadiz.es
Cadiz star Michael banned for drugs
Bogdan Laba

The young man Cadiz manager Enrico Pucci was counting on to lead Los Submarinos Amarillos to promotion has been banned for testing positive for cocaine. Michael Vinicus Silva de Moraes, called Michael, failed a random drug test in Brazil prior to signing a loan agreement with Cadiz.

The tall, athletic striker is banned until February 2015. The punishment was handed down yesterday.

"We weren't told that Michael had this hanging over his head when we signed him," said Pucci.

It is not clear if Michael will remain in Spain or return to Brazil.

Cadiz are left with only two outright strikers.
 
Shave and a shave

"Enrico, welcome. Please sit down."

"Thanks, Esteban. Give me the business. Need to look good for the big benefit tonight."

"Of course," Esteban replied. He draped me in towels and lathered up my skull. "How's the new apartment?"

"Fine."

He began shaving my rather stubbly melon.

"Tough news about Michael."

"Yeah."

Esteban continued shaving me in silence.

"**** it, Esteban," I said. "They could've at least told me the suspension was hanging over his head."

"Yeah, they could have."

"But they didn't."

"But they didn't," echoed Esteban. "Are Aymen and Airem good enough?"

"That's my worry," I replied. "But more than that, we were playing with a swagger. An attitude that we were unstoppable."

"And you're worried you'll lose that," Esteban. "Tilt to the right, please?"

"Confidence is such a fickle thing."

"Yes, it is. Chin up, please?"

He shaved me in silence for a while.

"Perico scored a nice goal last Saturday," Esteban offered.

"Yes, he did, didn't he?"

"Los Submarinos Amarillo are more than just one player," Esteban said. "The bottom line is your job is so tough because of the new, lovely Ramon de Carranza."

"Good point."

"Just work on what you can control."

"Thanks, man."
 
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dariodecadiz.es
Cadiz CF home opener against Sevilla Atletico

Bogdan Laba

Cadiz CF S.A.D home opener is tomorrow against Sevilla Atletico. Cadistas have been waiting to see the new look Los Submarino Amarillos as fifteen new players have been brought in after last year's mid-table finish.

This will also be new manager Enrico Pucci's first experience in the newly finished Ramon de Carranza.

How will Cadiz cope without star forward Michael who was banned until 2015 for failing a drug test back in Brazil?

"Airem and Souda will start up top," said Pucci. "We have some depth up top."

Cadiz only have long-term injuries to Bruninho and Tomas.

Cadiz will have to stop top prospects Borja and Juanma to get anything out of the match. Atletico are full of La Liga prospects which could make Pucci's home debut a nightmare.

"I'm confident we can do well in our home debut if we stick to our game," Pucci said.

The match kicks off at 20:00. Tickets are still available.
 
Ninos de Cadiz Gala Benefit

Every year Cadiz CF S.A.D. kick off their season with a gala charity benefit for Ninos de Cadiz before their home opener. The team has been instructed to appear in tuxedos and mingle with season ticket holders and donors. Thankfully, the tuxedo I bought way back when still fits and tuxedo styles don't really change.

The lobby of the newly renovated Ramon de Carranza seems pretty full to me. I'm not good at guessing crowd size, but it's well over a hundred. Probably way more than that. Waiters are wandering around with trays of champagne and tapas. I don't care for champagne so I wade through the crowd to the bar at the back. I chat up several season ticket holders while in line. As the guy in front of me gets his drink and steps aside, I glance to my right. I'm not sure why, but I do. Maybe fate wants to torture me, I don't know.

Standing alone some 20 meters away is the most gorgeous woman I've seen in a long time. Cascade of black hair tumbling down her back, sleek black dress. One of the season ticket holders behind me that I'd been chatting up politely clears his throat. I step up and order a white wine.

"You're going to go over and talk to her," I say to myself. "You're going to walk over there. You're going to say something. You're not going to make an *** of yourself. You're going to say 'hi, thanks for coming' or something good to break the ice. You're going to do it."

The bartender hands my my wine. I turn and she's still there. I take fives steps but then a season ticket holder grabs my arm and starts peppering me with questions. I answer. I have no idea what I've just told the men I'm supposed to be talking to. I glance over and she's still standing there. She has the fixed stare of someone who is bored. I thank the men for coming to the benefit and take four more steps in her direction. This time a woman grabs my arm and introduces me to her husband. I make small talk. I excuse myself and turn to take more steps in her direction, but she's gone.

****.

Before I can start searching the area around me, Margarita has grabbed me by the arm and is dragging me in the direction of the stage. She's asking me if I have my remarks in my pocket. I do. She muscles us through the crowd and pushes me up on stage. Chairman Manzano is talking extemporaneously. I look out across the crowd trying to spot her. I fail. Then it's my turn to speak. I wipe my sweaty palms on my tux. The crowd roars. I smile, give my speech. It's pretty quick. The spotlights are blinding. A bead of sweat runs down the side of my bald pate, past my ear and into my collar. Then I'm done and I'm walking down the steps and Margarita hands me my glass of wine.

"Are you okay, Enrico?" she asks.

"I've seen a vision," I reply.

"Oh, great," she deadpans. "Now our new manager is seeing visions of The Risen Christ or the Virgin Mary and will soon be embarrassing the club in public. Did you spike this wine?"

"No, not that kind of vision," I reply. "A little taller than you. Long, thick black hair. Bored. I've got to find her."

"Let's go," she replies and hooks her arm through mine. "I love a challenge. We'll stalk her down, hunt the prey."

We make a circle through the crowd, but I don't see her. Margarita says she'll go up to the club level balcony and see if she can see her from up high. I continue to hopelessly wander the crowd. Eventually I see Margarita up on the balcony. She's furtively pointing to her left, pointing down the balcony. I follow her lead and there my vision is, leaning on the balcony railing, looking as bored as before and nursing her champagne. I look back at Margarita. She points me toward the stairs up.

"You will not make a fool of yourself," I mumble as I climb the stairs. "Wipe the sweat from your forehead you ape. Straighten your bow tie. No, undo it. Look more casual. Yeah, look more casual."

When I peek around the corner, she's still there. I try to calm myself, but I'm a wreck by this point.

"Well, here goes," I say and stroll as casually as I can manage out onto the balcony. I walk straight to the nearest spot against the balcony railing and look down. Then I look up and pretend I just noticed her. I saunter over. In other words, I resist the urge to sprint but try to walk with as normal a gait as my racing heart will allow.

"Hi," I begin as I step up next to her. "You don't look like you're having as much fun as everyone down there."

That didn't sound to stupid, good introduction Smooth Boy.

"Hi," she replies glancing at me. She resumes watching the party below. "My date is flirting with all the players and sucking down champagnes like Gatorade after a marathon."

I smile but I have no idea how to respond. Her eyes are blue. Really, really blue. She's really quite short. I think I'm going to melt.

"Shouldn't you be down there?" she asks. "Since you're the manager?"

"I hate these kind of things," I reply. This is true, technically, but what am I supposed to say? That I've been stalking her all night. That'd go over well. I look down at the crowd.

"But think of the kids," she replies. Oh, my. Was that sardonic? Sassy. I think my knees are going to buckle.

"Which one is your date?" I ask. Good job. Make small talk. Draw her out.

"Brunette with highlights. She's in the red dress and I think she's flirting with three of your players over by the bar. She ditched me the instant she saw a player. I shouldn't have believed her."

"Let me guess," I reply. "She promised to introduce you, too? That there would be lots of interesting people to talk to?"

"Actually, no" she responded and turned to face me. "She said think of the kids."

I snicker. Then I blush. Her blue eyes are boring a hole through me. I really do think that my knees are going to buckle. Good thing I'm leaning on the balcony railing.

"I'm sorry you fell for it, but I'm glad you came," I reply blushing even more. Idiot. That line sucked. Now you've blown it.

She smirks, looks me over and turns to look back at the crowd below. I can tell she looks for and find her friend. Her friend has each arm around one of my players. It looks like Airam and Albert Dalmau are loving the attention. She has a glass of champagne in each hand. She's probably having the best time of anyone at the party.

"It looks like I'd better go and rescue my date," she says. "I'll see you around, Boss."

Panic! I don't know her name. Ask, ask you ninny, ask her what her name is.

"But I don't know your name?" I say to her retreating back.

"It's Ana Maria. Bye by Enrico."

I watch her walk away. Wow. Sweet Mary Mother of God but she's beautiful. Ana Maria. She knows my name? How's she know that? Dumb****. You're the manager. They announced your name on stage and then you spoke. She finally walks out of my view. I down my remaining wine in a single gulp. God, but I'm thirsty now.

I locate her friend again. She's leading Airem and Albert toward the stage. I'm guessing she wants to dance with them. The music the organizers picked isn't exactly dance music, but the date is determined to make this into a real party. Maybe one with an after-party. The date starts dancing with wild abandon. Not exactly the kind of dancing appropriate to the music. My two boys don't seem to care, they're just enjoying the spectacle of a fine looking woman shake herself in ways they didn't know were possible.

I see Ana Maria back where her friend used to be. She looks up at me. I indicate her friend has moved in front of the stage. I watch Ana Maria weave through the crowd toward her date. When the date sees her approaching she tries to introduce her to Airam and Albert. It's obvious she's having none of it. I see the date's shoulder slump as she realizes that Ana Maria hasn't come over to liven up the party, but to end it. The date says something, gulps down one of her champagnes then kisses both players on the cheeks. Then the date must have realized how wasted she'd gotten. She slumps onto Ana Maria even though she's taller and they limp off and out the doors. I watch Ana Maria walk slowly away while her friend pulls herself together, veers alongside gesturing wildly. It appears that she's describing how fabulous of a night she just had.
 
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Round 2: Cadiz CF v. Sevilla Atletico (Home Opener)

We could hear the crowd from inside the locker room. For most of us, this was our first home match for Cadiz. I could tell that everyone was nervous. Who wouldn't be. I wonder how the rest of them felt. No obvious signs of hangovers. I bet most players hadn't slept well. I've never been able to sleep well before a home opener. Plus, I kept thinking about Ana Maria.

Mehdi Nafti was away on international duty for Tunisia which was really inconvenient. Martins would move forward into the holding midfielder role. Josete would play in the center of defense with Chara.

GK: Alejandro
Defense: Albert Dalmau, Andres, Ricardo Chara and Josete
Midfield: Jorge Luque, Mikel Martins, Kike Lopez and Perico.
Attack: Aymen Souda and Airem

Subs: Angel Bernabe (GK), Jose Maria Belforti (D), Juan Carlos Ceballas (RB), Juan Villar (M/F) and a youth player Zebanzui Pedraza. I couldn't play a kid named Moises who I'd play a decent bit during the preseason as the youth team had already played that day making him ineligible. Pedraza hadn't suited up, so he was eligible to sit on the bench. We are THAT short-handed today.

From the kick-off I could tell this wasn't going to be easy like last week. The Sevilla players were all quite good. Plus we were missing Nafti's presence in the middle of the park.

7 minutes in and my Captain, Martins, is writhing in pain on the ground. He'd gone up for a header, collided with the Sevilla player in mid-air and tried to catch himself with his arms as he fell. Michel, the Physio, pointed to his wrist and then signaled that his day was done. ****. ****. Villar was the only player who could play midfield on the bench, but he was an attacking midfielder. Our defense were going to be exposed regardless of what I told Villar to do.

And we paid the price in the 18th minute. They moved the ball out onto their left flank to Juanma. The kid is a pretty nice dribbler, but isn't exactly what you might call fast. Regardless, Albert Dumahl is nowhere near him. Juanma heads straight for goal, straight past Dumahl as if he wasn't there. Chara comes over to cover, but is too cautious. Juanma spanks a blistering drive into the top far corner.

0-1 Sevilla.

When we have the ball, we look good going forward. In the 29th minute Kike Lopez gets the ball out on our right flank and head's down the sidelines. Both Airam and Souda make near post runs drawing away three defenders. Kike delivers a far post dart. Perico outjumps the two defenders at the back post, doesn't make very good contact, but it doesn't matter. The ball bulges the netting and we're even.

1-1

In the 37th minute, I see how important Nafti and Martins are to the team. The Sevilla left back thumps the ball forward in the direction of their striker, Gonzalo Suarez. Nafti would have intercepted the pass. Martins would have, too. Regardless, Suarez has all day to control the ball, turn and start toward our goal. Martins would have been on him immediately if he was in the defense. Unfortunately, it looks like he's broken his wrist and will be out a while. Instead, Josete runs over to intervene. Suarez knocks Josete on his **** with a shoulder charge.

I holler at the ref claiming a foul, but it was in vain. That was a fair shoulder charge. At the top of the box, Suarez smashes it past Alejandro.

1-2

They could have scored a few more before halftime and we were just plain lucky they didn't.

"What do you plan on saying?" Paco asked as we trudged into the changing room.

I shrugged.

"We're getting over-run through the middle and aren't playing with any spirit," I replied. "It's obvious who's missing."

"But you're not going to say that," Paco said.

"Of course not," I said. "I think I'll ask them to show me something different. Challenge them to take charge."

Paco grunted his approval.

For the first ten minutes of the second half, they tried. We knocked the ball around when we got it fairly nicely. Never did anything, but at least we were passing it nicely. We worked hard to win it back when we lost it. Villar wasn't doing all that badly.

That all changed at about 55 minutes. Sevilla took their game up a notch. Their passing got crisper, they exploited Villar's inability to protect the back four. The ball stayed around our penalty box. They were rewarded on 61 minutes.

They played the ball into the box for Borja. Borja was covered and couldn't turn he passed it out to Juanma who jogged right by Dalmau and sent the ball back to Borja who had advanced a few paces closer to our goal. Josete came across to shut him down but was too late. Borja had plenty of time to set himself and side foot a pass into the left side of the net.

1-3

I turned to Paco and Alejo sitting next to me and said "What did Chara and Josete think was going to happen when Juanma gets the ball? They're not supporting Dalmau at all. They're leaving him out to dry."

I replaced Dalmau with Ceballos and Josete with Belfort next chance I could. That sparked Los Submarino Amarillos into life.

Luque played a ball forward to Souda at the top of the box. His shot was blocked but squibbed out to the right side of the penalty box. Kike stormed in, beat the defenders to the ball, took a touch and hammered the ball off the near post. The ball ricocheted off a defender and into the path of Airam who gratefully side-footed the ball into the wide open net. We had a chance to ****** a point we didn't deserve.

2-3

No we didn't. Sevilla shut down shop and spent pretty much all of the remaining minutes playing tiki-taka between the center circle and the top of our box. We had a few forays into their half, but they always peetered out.

I told the team that it just wasn't our day afterwards in the changing room. I also told them that I'd see them all at 9am the next morning and that they'd need to bring their running shoes. That wasn't a technically true. They all kept their running shoes in their lockers at the training ground. But it was a figure of speech. Lose like that on my watch and you'll be doing killers the next morning.

The coaching staff stuck around the changing room after all the players had left.

"We learned that Josete is a back-up," Alejo offered as I came back into the room from talking to Bogdan Laba. "I'll work with him on his tackling, but he's going about it all wrong."

We all nodded.

"The central defenders need to support the fullback better," I added. "Dalmau was left hanging out to dry all game long."

We all nodded.

"Luque is the ****," Paco said. "He is the fulcrum. Everything going forward originates from him."

"Martins is going to be out as long as a month with a broken arm," I said. "Michel is heading over to the hospital with him to get his arm set. We'll know more in the morning."

"So Belforti replaces him in the back?" Alejo asked. "He looked decent enough out there. Plus with Nafti back and protecting the back four..."

I nodded.

"Don't let this loss bother any of you too much," Paco said. "We're getting Tomas back soon. That'll shore up the left side. He doesn't scare Enrico like Andres does."

"That's a good point," I added. "Even without Michael, Souda and Airam looked dangerous. Plus, we know we can beat Algeciras next week. We kicked their butts 4-0 in the preseason."

"They are top of the table right now," said Javi Garcia looking up from his iPhone. "They just won 3-1 and won 6-1 in the first round."

"Yeah, but Guadalajara and Cacereno are fodder," added Llorente. "I've been reading the scouting reports. I say we'll slaughter them. The boys will want to prove today was a fluke."
 
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dariodecadiz.es
Cadiz overrun by Sevilla Atletico
Bogdan Laba

Cadiz CF found little joy when they hosted Sevilla Atletico at the Ramon de Carranza yesterday and lost 3-2. They missed Mehdi Nafti who was away on international duty with Tunisia. The lost captain Mikel Martins on seven minutes to a broken wrist. Martins will be out as long as five weeks. Forward Michael is lost for the season due to his suspension for drugs.

"Losing my Captain that early and missing my Vice Captain didn't help," Cadiz manager Enrico Pucci admitted.

Atletico took advantage of the weakened Cadistas. Villar replaced Martins in the midfield, but did little to slow Atletico's march toward the Cadista goal. The weak defending allowed Juanma and Geraldo Suarez to smash goals past goalkeeper Alejandro. In between, Perico stole a far post header after some great wing play by Kike Lopez.

The Cadistas tried to change the flow of the game after the break, but Sevilla wouldn't let them have their way for long. Borja completed a Barcelona-esque move by passing the ball into the net for a third goal.

Debutant Airam nabbed a goal to make the match closer than it really was, but Atletico's dominance was never in question.

Cadiz are away to Algeciras CF next week.
 
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Killers

For those of you who don't know or call them by another name, I'll explain what Killers are. You run from the end line to the six yard box and back. Then to the penalty box and back. Then to the center line and back. You do this until whomever is in charge has exacted enough punishment.

I explained to Zosimo San Roman, the fitness trainer, that I wanted them to go on a half hour jog then separate the squad into two groups and alternate Killers for thirty minutes. He was to judge when he thought they'd had enough. Head Physio Michel Roman was to advise Zo on when to end the Killers.

Everyone knew the route as they'd run it every day during the preseason. Round the track the surrounds the pitch, out the gate at the northeastern corner of facility, around the outside of the mall parking lot, round the backside of the mall, around the tennis courts in the southeastern corner and returning through the southeastern gate.

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Paco and I manned the southeastern gate and chatted. They did two circuits in thirty minutes.

"Who was that fine-looking young thing you were chatting up at the Gala?" Paco enquired.

"Ana Maria," I replied.

"And?"

"That's all I know," I replied. I told him the story.

"And that's it?" Paco asked. I nodded. "What are you going to do?"

I shrugged.

We watched Zo push the team through twenty minutes of killers before he called it.

"Hit the showers, boys," I tell the squad. "Please visit Michel if you have any aches. We'll have lunch then watch the Barca match at noon."
 
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Coco

I'd visited several of the yoga instructors that Margarita had directed me toward, but I didn't think any of them had the correct persona to lead a yoga class for footballers.

"Any luck finding any other yogis?" I ask her after our training on Monday.

"Just one," she replied and handed me a card. It said Coco, Yoga and had an address and phone. The back had class listings.

"Thanks," I said. The card indicated there was a class that night. "I need help on another thing."

"Your vision, perhaps?" she said smiling. I nodded. "Well, what did you find out about her?"

"Just her name; Ana Maria," I replied.

"Ooh, then I can sort the donor names," she said and proceeded to open a spreadsheet. After a few minutes she turned and smiled. "Ana Maria Jiminez. Listed an address in Cadiz. Listed her occupation as finance/banking. Write this down." And pointed at a row in the spreadsheet.

"Thank you very much," I said.

"You know the price," she said. "Kiss and tell. I get ALL the dirty details."

"Of course," I lied and smiled as I walk away.

What was I going to do with this information? There's a fine line between chasing after a woman and stalking.

However, finding a yoga instructor for the team became simpler. I think I finally found one.

Coco's yoga studio was a storefront almost in the old part of the city. He had Coco stenciled on the windows. He had a huge medieval, wooden door to separate the entry from the studio. He was chatting with some students but came over when saw I was standing there wondering what happened next.

"Hmmm ... you're new, welcome, I'm Coco," He said smiling. "You look familiar." I shrugged. "There's some paperwork to fill out then get yourself a mat. Are you new to yoga?"

"No."

"Well good," he replied. "What's your name?" I tell him. "Hmmm ... why do I think I know your name?"

"Los Submarino Amarillos," I reply. "I'm the manager."

"Oooh, somebody famous."

Coco was unabashedly gay. I'm not sure that would matter as he has a very disarming and unthreatening character. His class also completely kicked my ***. He strolled amongst us during the class, coaxing, reminding everyone to breathe and adjusting people's positions.

"Great class," I said afterwards. "I have a proposition."

"I do love getting propositioned by handsome strangers," he replied.

"Hah, I need a yoga instructor for my squad," I continued. "Would you be interested?"

"How would it work?" he asked.

"I was thinking three days a week in the mornings," I replied.
 
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dariodecadiz.es
Cadiz CF visit Algeciras
Bogdan Laba

Cadiz hope to rebound from their 2-3 defeat to Atletico Sevilla when they visit Algeciras on Sunday night. The match might be tougher than their 4-0 preseason victory over their red-white striped opponents. Striker Melchor leads the table-topping Algeciras with five goals in two matches. They've conceded a mere two goals.

"The team is raring to go," Manager Enrico Pucci said. "The Sevilla match will drive the team to do better in this match."

Mehdi Nafti returns to the midfield after missing the Sevilla match on international duty. Captain Michel Martins will miss a month with a broken wrist. Bruninho and Tomas are close to returning to action, but neither will be ready for tomorrows match.

"[Jose Maria] Belforti will be replacing Martins," Pucci said.

Pucci was unwilling to comment on what he thought Algeciras weakest link was, but agreed that Melchor was their main threat.

"Well, we can safely say that Pucci is a good judge of talent," Algeciras manager Manolo Sanlucar said. "Or at least very good at stating the obvious."
 
Round 3: Algeciras CF v. Cadiz CF S.A.D.

The bus ride to Algeciras was only an hour and a half through the forested hills of the Parque Natural Los Alcornocales. Those of us who had never seen the Nuevo Mirador before groaned as the stadium came into view.

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The location was right next to the water with the Rock of Gilbraltar off in the distance which was idyllic, but it's condition was rather ramshackle. The pitch itself was bumpy and poorly maintained. The changing room was typical; cramped, smelly and while it had only one toilet, at least it worked.

The line-up is:

GK: Alejandro
Defense: Dalmau, Chara, Belforti and Andres
Midfield: Kike Lopez, Nafti, Luque and Perico
Forwards: Airam and Souda

Subs: Moises (LB), Josete (D/M), Ceballos (RB), Kike Marquez (M/F), Villar (M/F)

Around one thousand Cadistas had traveled over with us and the announcer said 4,660 which seemed about right as the ground was half full.

We started brightly and controlled the game. At ten minutes in Perico played a ball into the left corner for Souda to chase. Airam was charging for the near post and Kike had the back post. Their defender David Parada miskicked his clearance attempt and we led.

1-0

Our defense was solid. Perico and Kike supported their fullbacks. Belforti and Chara supported their fullbacks. Algeciras couldn't muster much. Melchor was isolated up top and any time he went for a ball, Belforti, Chara or Nafti went in hard and denied him any service.

We kept pressing, but couldn't get that second goal. It just wouldn't come. The fourth official displayed two extra minutes. I began running through my halftime comments. I was going to emphasize that we were playing well and to keep going. With time running out in the added time, Kike won a corner. This was going to be the last kick of the half. As usual, a group gathered and jostled around the penalty spot. Then Airam drifted away from the pack to the far post area. Nobody in red-white stripes followed.

Perico saw this and smashed a two hop shot to him. He connected solidly with his volley and we went into the locker room leading by two.

2-0

There wasn't much to be said in the changing room except "keep it up" which they did.

In the 54th minute, Luque won a crunching tackle in the center of the park. He beat the next man on the dribble and unleashed a howitzer from twenty five meters. I cannoned off the post to Kike Lopez who hit his shot toward the far post. I was actually raising my arms to celebrate, but a defender cleared it off the line. The Algeciras fullback chased the ball down and thumped it forward. Melchor received the ball in their half and played it out wide to Carlitos. Andres started backpedaling. I realized I was grinding my teeth. Belforti stepped over to help when Carlitos reached the top of our box. But it was too late. Carlitos crushed a shot just to the near post side of Alejandro. Unfortunately for us, he got some outside spin on it and it curled away from our flailing keeper and into the top corner.

2-1

From establishing an unassailable lead to a close match inside a minute. Oof.

I was wondering how we'd respond. We took the ball down our left flank. Perico, Souda and Andres were knocking the ball around in the corner area. Souda was getting boxed in and could have played the easy outlet to Andres on the sideline. But he'd spotted Nafti standing alone about 35 meters out.

Nafti took the pass and started jogging forward looking for options. He didn't see any. As a defender stepped out, he dropped his left shoulder, freezing the defender, tapped the ball out to his right a tad and then hit a laser beam of a shot into the lower right of the net.

3-1

Four minutes later, Belforti controlled a clearance, fed the ball to Nafti inside the Algeciras half. Nafti fired a slide rule pass into the feet of Airam as he made a run into the channel between their left back and center back. Airam only touch was to fire a shot inside the near post.

Game. Set. Match.

4-1

To give a few key players a rest, I replace Luque with Villar, Nafti with Josete and Dalmau with Ceballos.

The mood in the changing room after was exuberant. The players couldn't care less about the cramped, decrepit changing room. Without our captain and without Michael, we'd played great.

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dariodecadiz.es
Cadiz thrash Algeciras
Bogdan Laba

Los Submarino Amarillos bounced back from last weekend's disappointing home loss by thrashing Algeciras 4-1. Airam led the way with a brace.

"Airam was absolutely outstanding today," Cadiz manager Enrico Pucci said. "So was Perico."

Algeciras defender David Parada miskicked Perico's cross into his own goal on ten minutes.

The Cadiz offense kept Algeciras goalkeeper Christian Cabrera busy with plenty of crosses and forced him to make numerous saves especially in the first half where Cadiz kept the ball in Algeciras half and worked hard for a second goal. Airam's first was the last kick of the first half when he volleyed home from a corner kick delivered to the far post.

Pucci will also be pleased with forward Aymen Souda's as well as his midfield combo of Jorge Luque's and Mehdi Nafti's play. Nafti scored the third goal with a 25 meter screamer.

Unlike last week, the Cadiz defense looked assured and limited Algeciras's league leader scorer, Melchor to two long range chances with both sailing well wide of their intended target. Melchor looked forlorn and frustrated all game.

Cadiz moved up to third in the table with today's win.
 
Los Submarino Amarillos do yoga

I'd arranged for our first yoga class to be on Monday as a way to loosen some sore muscles.

"As I mentioned last week," I said addressing the squad who'd assembled in a small gym. "We are going to be adding yoga to our routine. I'll let Coco, here, explain."

"Hello, gentleman," Coco began. "I'm Coco and I'll be your instructor. Let's begin sitting cross-legged on a mat. Everyone grab a mat and unroll it. Senor Pucci wants all of you doing the same thing all the big clubs are doing. Manchester United are doing yoga. So is Barca and Real. Bayern Munich and Ajax."

The players didn't look to enthusiastic, but sat cross-legged on their mats.

"Yoga can reduce your risk of injury," he said. "If you're dedicated to getting on the mat, you can reduce the time you're out injured when you do get hurt."

"There's a reason Ryan Giggs is still playing," he continued. "Aside from being gorgeous and a freak of nature. If you take this seriously, you can extend your careers for an extra year or ten. I mean, seriously, who wants to go out and get a real job. Who doesn't want to play a couple more years than you expected."

"Oh, I have your attention now?" Coco smirked. "Alright. Good. Now sit up straight. Roll forward more so you are sitting tall, up on your **** bones. Raise your heart. Yes. That's right. Breathe deeply in through your noses, exhaling slowly. Yes, like that. Now relax your shoulders."

The players begrudgingly did as he asked. He had some fun at their expense with some simple balancing contortion poses. He gently teased them, coaxed them and made sure they were having fun at it. Fairly soon the players were all breathing loudly and wet with sweat. They all realized they were getting a solid workout in.

It appears I'd chosen well. They were responding to his instruction. Even Aymen Souda, the team's joker, was relatively serious.

At the end of the workout when the players are in what's called the corpse position (laying on their backs) and pretty thoroughly relaxed, Coco interjected some visualization training. He and I had talked this through beforehand.

"I want you to visualize doing what you're supposed to do for the team right now," he said. "Whether that's scoring, dribbling down to the byline and crossing, winning the ball with a solid tackle or tipping a goal bound shot around the post. In the quietness of your breathe, visualize yourselves doing what your job and doing it brilliantly."

"And thank you for your dedication and thank you for your hard work," he concluded. "Because yoga can make a difference in your game and in your life."

After lunch, we did some tactics training. The kind where Javi Garcia talked and we simulated playing situations and nobody broke a sweat. They were amazingly focused. Yoga is already making a difference.
 
Scouting report on Guadalajara

Head scout Jose Manuel Barla sat down with Paco and I to go over his scouting report on Guadalajara who we'd face this coming Saturday. This match was going to be on TV which added pressure on the team to perform.

"Hey, boss," Javi Garcia said. He walked up as we were sitting down in the cafeteria. "I've signed myself up for my coaching certificates."

"That's great, Javi," I reply.

"I'm paying for it myself," he said.

"Yeah, I know, sorry about that," I replied. "I wished the club was in a position to cover that for you. You know the deal. I wish it were otherwise."

He nodded fist bumped with Paco and walked off.

Jose handed us his report.

"First off," he began. "Guadalajara just haven't come together this season. Their manager, Carlos Perez Salvachua, has been at the helm for a while. Their keeper is good and their defense, at least on paper, should be better than ours. But they're not."

"Their offense, on paper, should be good, but they're struggling," he continued. "Their two strikers are quick and really good on the ball. Their wingers are quick and talented."

"Interesting," Paco interjected.

"Yeah," Jose agreed. "They got slaughtered by Algeciras first game of the season. They shouldn't have. I saw them lose to Ecijas; who we play next week. They are far more talented than them. I don't get it."

"So who's their danger man?" I ask.

"They play a narrow 4231 and the center of their attacking midfield is Mateo," he replied. "Great passer and dribbler. Creative, good vision, but he just isn't getting the job done."
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"Nacho is the lone striker," he continued. "He's great on the ball and quick. He should be a real handful. But somehow he's goalless so far. He's just not all that composed at those critical moments. Against Ecijas, he and Mateo were completely shut down. However, last week their attacking foursome were excellent and tore poor La Hoya to shreds."
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"We shut down these two, we have a chance?" Paco asked.

Jose nodded.

"What wrong with their defense?" I asked. "They're giving up like 4 goals a game! Are they really that bad?"

"Their central midfielders just aren't shielding their back four," Jose replied. "Their fullbacks are isolated on the flanks so getting in crosses isn't hard. Plus, balls played into the channels are killing them. They just aren't compact."

"Do they get frustrated easily?" Paco asked.

"Yes, Jose replied. "Definitely. The two games I've seen were the last two. The 4-2 win last week and the 3-1 loss against Ecijas. Their morale just plummets when they get scored on. They're fragile right now. We're catching them at a good time."

"Thanks, Jose," I reply.
 
Esteban's prediction

"Good morning, Esteban," I said as I walked into the barbershop. "Give me the business."

"Of course, please assume the position."

"Roberto," I greeted the other barber and sat in the chair. Esteban wrapped me in towels and began lathering up my skull.

"How about Guadalajara?" Roberto asked.

"Mmmmm," I replied. "I'm not sure. We seem pretty focused. We seem to do well away from home."

"Well, I have a good feeling about the match," Esteban said. "I have cousins in Guadalajara and I've placed wagers on it with them. I wound them up and if the Cadistas triumph, I'm up 100 Euros. If we lose, I'm out 50. They're such suckers. So I'm going to travel up there for the weekend."

"I hope we deliver," I said.

"I hope so to for your sake," he replied. "I hold a razor to your neck at least once a week. I'm taking the train up on Friday. I'm going to drink all weekend with them. I'll be there at the match though I may not remember much of it. Then back on Sunday."
 
Round 4: CD Guadalajara SAD v. Cadiz CF

Cadiz to Guadalajara is quite a drive. Guadalajara is past Madrid. So we set out on Friday at 4pm. It's a seven hour drive. Perico is the team's DJ and had decided that techno was the way to go for the trip. Herc had outdone himself again by sending along some great sandwiches and snacks to keep everyone happy.

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I didn't sleep well, but that's just me. I kept running through scenarios of how I'd approach Ana Maria and they ended in rejection and humiliation. On the other hand, I wasn't worrying about the next day's match. Eventually, I drifted off into sleep and was awoken by Paco pounding on my door. I'd forgotten to set my alarm.

The team had breakfast together, but I told them we'd meet back at the hotel at 4pm for a team meal before heading over to the Pedro Escartin for our 8pm match.

The players split up into groups and headed out. Javi Garcia had some part of his extended family living nearby so he went off with them. The rest of the coaching staff took in the city's sites and ate lunch. I went back to the hotel after lunch and took a nap. I ran into Paco in the hotel bar after I woke up.

"Hey," I said sitting down in the booth with him.

"We haven't been called to bail anyone out," he remarked. "That's good."

"Has that every happened? Seriously?"

"Actually, yes," he replied. "When Marbella was in La Liga. The one season. We went to Mallorca. Two guys got into a fight at a bar and got themselves arrested. They swore they only had one drink and just wanted to hang out. They were substitutes for the match, they weren't starting. But still ..."

"Could you imagine the phone call?" I interjected. "Uh, hi Boss it's me. No nothing's wrong. I'm fine. Why am I calling this late? Well, because I need you to bail me out of jail. You aren't mad are you, Boss? Can you come and get me?"

We pondered the absurdity of it for a moment.

"What are you going to do about the woman?" Paco asked.

"I keep thinking about that," I replied. "And I don't know. Maybe send her flowers or something."

"Women like flowers," Paco agreed. "Send her yellow ones. We are El Submarino Amarillos, after all."

"Look at the time," I gasped. "We'd better make sure everything is ready for the players."

Paco shook his head.

As we ate our pre-game meal, the skies darkened threateningly. We all got on the bus and drove to the stadium through drizzle. A few of the Guadistas awaited our arrival and made obscene gestures at the bus. But not many. The Pedro Escartin is a well-maintained, but small ground. Both toilets in the changing room worked. The pitch was nice so we'd be able to pass the ball around nicely today.

Same line-up as last week in Algeciras:

GK: Alejandro
D: Dalmau, Chara, Belfonti, Andres
M: Kike Lopez, Luque, Nafti and Perico
F: Souda and Airam

Subs: Josete, Ceballos, Kike Marquez, Villar and Tomas (he's fit but not in game shape. Hopefully he'll get a few minutes in the 2nd half).

Once again we started fairly well. We knocked the ball around crisply. In the 13th minute, Andres played a 30 meter pass into the path of Aymen Souda. Souda controlled the ball perfectly and headed for the gap between the right back and the center back. Just as he was entering they penalty area and they were about to shut his run down (he was surrounded by 4 players), he tried to sneak a toe poke past the fullback hoping to surprise their goalkeeper. The ball bounced up off his ankle, hit is **** and fell nicely for Souda.

So he tried a second time. The keeper couldn't get down at his near post quick enough. He shouldn't have let it get past him like that. Souda wheeled away with his arms raised, accepting the adulation from the four hundred Cadistas that had made the trip. Amongst them somewhere was a very happy and drunken Estaban.

0-1

From the ensuing restart, Guadalajara brought the ball down the field eventually playing the ball to their right winger Jairo. He'd made a run down the inside right channel. Andres covered the run and Belforti had backed him up. But Jairo played the ball out to the right back who'd sprinted upfield to support. Andres, like a puppy dog, sprinted after the ball. Class ball-watching. Jairo moved into the space Andres had vacated and immediately received a return pass and beat Belforti around the corner. Just like Souda had done literally two minutes prior, he beat the keeper at the near post.

1-1

I didn't react or do anything. Andres hung his head in shape. He knew he'd been caught ball watching. Something Alejo had been talking about incessantly since the beginning of preseason. I was very, very glad Tomas was almost back to full fitness.

The game see-sawed back and forth, but I never thought our goal was in any real danger. Both Souda and Airam had some good chances, but couldn't covert. Then in the 38th minute, Belfonti controlled a clearance and sent the ball over to Chara who played it to Dalmau who played it up to Kike. A nicely worked round the back and up the right maneuver. Kike beat his defender and whipped in a cross to the near post. Airam stuck out a toe and nicked the ball past the keeper.

1-2

The fourth official had signaled 3 extra minutes and on 47 minutes, Dalmau took a throw in deep in the right wing corner. Airam and a defender both leapt for the ball just inside the box. I'm not exactly sure who's head it went off of, but it landed in the middle of a scrum of players in the penalty box. I saw Luque swing at the ball and his seeing eye shot found a way through the mass of players and into the back of the net.

1-3

The whistle blew for halftime and I smiled as I walked toward the changing room. I looked for Esteban in the stands but couldn't see him. We'd shut down their offensive threat of Nacho (F) and Mateo (AMC) and their goalie had faced three quality chances and let them all in. He had managed to stop a couple tame shots, but he was having a bad game.

The second half was rather dull despite three more goals going in. Both teams knew we'd won, we were just playing it out. Luque and Belfort picked up yellow cards for relentless fouling. Nafti was marking their keeper for a corner and Perico played the ball directly to him. No Guadalajara player challenged him and he deflected the ball into the net to make it 4-1. They scored a consolation goal in the 84th minute after a great reaction save by Alejandro fell to Mateo. Mateo only had to beat Chara and made it 4-2. I'd replaced one Kike with another and in the 88th minute the Marquez version lofted a ball in the direction of Airam. Souda gathered the flick on and drilled a low shot past their helpless keeper.

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In the end, Guadalajara 2-5 Cadiz. We were in top spot (temporarily as everyone else plays tomorrow), but Guadalajara could be in the relegation zone by the end of Sunday.

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We appreciated the well-maintained showers and returned to our hotel for a light late-night snack before hitting the road. We all, even me, awoke to dawn in Cadiz.
 
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This is a really great story. Subscribed and eagerly awaiting the next update!
 
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