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The Brazilian full-back landed at the Bernabéu as a 19-year-old yet after 10 years he is a standout amongst the most predictable players at Zinedine Zidane’s transfer
For the second time in six days, the last shriek pushed Marcelo Vieira to the brink of collapse, yet this time his body didn’t droop forward face to begin with, clench hands beating the floor; this time his body curved back and his arms were raised to the sky, similar to the publication from Platoon. After the clasico late last Sunday night, Real Madrid’s left-back assumed liability for how it had finished; after their match with Valencia from the get-go Saturday evening, he didn’t – despite the fact that this time it really was his doing. “We as a whole battled, we as a whole ran,” he stated, wide-looked at and wiping sweat from his head, the yelling and celebrating encompassing him at the Santiago Bernabéu yet to die down.
Ran? He had run wild. Marcelo assumed the fault for losing to Barcelona, tragically conceding he ought to have fouled Sergi Roberto similarly as Cristiano Ronaldo had beseeched, as though it that was so natural or so self-evident. Presently, seven days on, he protected them. With eight minutes left, previous Madrid youth teamer Dani Parejo twisted the ideal free-kick over a tall, jumping divider and into the best corner to put Valencia level. The diversion had been floating, Zinedine Zidane admitting to “nervousness”, yet Madrid had driven. Presently, lead gone, they took a chance with the association doing in like manner. With four recreations to go, three for Barcelona, Madrid would presumably need to beat Granada, Sevilla, Celta and Málaga or sit tight considerably longer for a title that had just avoided them for a long time.
At that point, with four minutes left, the ball dropped to Marcelo on the best corner of the territory. He could have quite recently hit it or swung another cross into the crate, yet that is not so much his way. Along these lines, dropping his shoulder he turned inside to his left side foot, past two difficulties, and twisted it right-footed into the far corner. 2-1. On the touchline Zidane watched it unfurl without moving, only his jaw grasping, however every other person detonated. Marcelo dashed towards Sergio Ramos, arms thrashing, shouting, wild, part Tardelli part Tarzan, and jumped into him. Danilo dashed from the seat. Lucas Vázquez zoomed along the touchline and onto the pitch. Álvaro Morata clutched him, not going to give up. Players heaped in, woozy.
You’d think they had recently won the title, which maybe they had. It felt that way. This was the objective that was worth “a large portion of a group” the reports ran. And keeping in mind that they would have effectively won six or seven alliances at this point if each diversion that was announced a large portion of a group truly was a large portion of a class, they had a point. Madrid had done it once more, their way. Zidane discussed the weight as the season achieved the end, about legs “trembling”, yet this resembled those different circumstances as well, a comfortable story with a well-known finale: the account of the season. They didn’t generally awe until the point that they had outrageously needed to. Nothing makes them more beneficial than the latest possible time.
Valencia hit the post inside a moment, at that point Fabián Orellana had missed a superb possibility. Madrid had led the pack – Dani Carvajal’s cross, Ronaldo’s header – and when the shot came to make it safe in the second half, Karim Benzema hit the post and, from a similar move, Madrid got a punishment from which Diego Alves did what Diego Alves does, influencing another punishment to spare and breaking another record: that is three recoveries from the four he has looked from Ronaldo now; more spared in a solitary season than anybody, ever; and a higher aggregate than any goalkeeper in the historical backdrop of La Liga. Less than half of the punishments he’s looked here have gone in. Thus it went on. It was still just 1-0 and still was tense, yet it needed genuine restlessness, notwithstanding when Rodrigo headed wide. In any case, at that point Casemiro, as of now on a yellow, surrendered a free kick and Parejo scored, as though it had been flawlessly arranged.