Tommy Martin: Champions League now a series of Test matches, but Real still an apex predator
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There is a rare moment of wit in the unloved Star Wars prequel , when Ewan McGregor and Liam Neeson are riding around in a little submarine under the surface of some strange watery planet or other for some narrative purpose that escapes me now.
Suddenly, behind Ewan and Liam’s tiny craft looms a giant fishy monster thing, which is poised, for a dreadful moment, to devour the two Celtic thespians whole. Then, out of nowhere, a bigger giant fishy monster thing emerges from the watery murk to gobble up the first one, allowing Ewan and Liam in their little sub to make their escape. The scene concludes when the second giant fishy monster thing, guzzling down its prey, is itself suddenly swallowed whole by a third, even bigger giant fishy monster thing.
That little vignette about the natural order of things transfers well to the new-look Champions League, which is a bit like the Star Wars prequels in that it’s too long, often hard to follow and has plenty boring bits – but does serve up some undeniably spectacular set pieces.
On Tuesday night it was Real Madrid’s turn to play the big fish, as they so often do. Borussia Dortmund had feasted on Celtic’s carcass a few weeks previously in a 7-1 win on matchday two, the Scottish champions having themselves gorged on poor old Slovan Bratislava in the opening round of games, who in turn make mincemeat of their domestic Slovakian rivals on a weekly basis.
Dortmund, with their defeat to Real in last season’s Champions League final fresh in their memories, got stuck into the Spanish giants, currently in one of those uneven early season spells when they resemble a louche playboy who has not yet had his first glass of champagne and cigarette of the morning.
The German outfit passed up numerous chances to score against Real in the early stages at Wembley in June but were altogether more ruthless at the Bernabeu, going 2-0 up with goals by Donyell Malen and their latest young English hopeful, Jamie Gittens. These goals were characterised by unconvincing attempts to track back by various Real superstars, who showed all the urgency of men trying not to be late for a colonic irrigation appointment.
At half-time I asked Brian Kerr in the Virgin Media studio about the sudden crisis enveloping the Bernabeu, the first-half debacle following on from a 1-0 defeat to Lille in the last round. The great sage laughed openly at the question and professed his full assurance that Real would be fine.
And fine they were, no doubt helped by the decision of Nuri Sahin, the 36-year-old Borussia Dortmund coach and the youngest of his trade in the Champions League, to switch to a back five ten minutes into the second half. This had the effect of transforming Dortmund, who had looked purposeful and menacing, into a little cowering mouse awaiting its whiskery fate.
At the same time, there was something awe-inspiring about Real as they set about their task. Vinicius Junior, Ballon D’Or winner apparent, whipped up the Bernabeu galleries, the great entitled hordes soon baying for blood. Vini Junior is terrifying when he is like this, slashing at the opponents’ right side with vicious, jagged incisions. For a tricky Brazilian baller, nothing he does is for show, every move designed to hurt.
The tortured Norwegian right-back Julian Ryerson was called ashore in the 76th minute, spared the humiliation Vinicius visited upon his teammates for the second and third goals of his hat-trick, Dortmund players falling exhaustedly around his dancing feet, the ball smashed into the net with violence.
Within Real’s own internal hierarchy, Vini might also have been making a point. It was thought that the arrival of Kylian Mbappé might upset him, given that the Frenchman often likes to roam the same open left-field prairies. Watching Real on Tuesday night, it was hard instead not to think of Mbappé as a high-class domestique, in service of the main man.
Nuri Sahin might have showed his inexperience by thinking that battening down the hatches at the Bernabeu would pay dividends. But he was also bowing to the order, that sense of the inevitable when a bigger beast in the football world looms above you with unlocked jaws.
Real Madrid is all about the order of things, their status as apex predator only rivalled by agents of state-controlled investment. Much of their success in recent years, aside from Carlo Ancelotti’s unrivalled ability as a star-whisperer, is down to the feeling of unavoidable gravity they bring to the decisive moments of big Champions League nights.
Of course, the bigger argument is about whether occasions like Tuesday amount to big Champions League nights at all, given the lack of real jeopardy for the bigger clubs with just 12 of the 36 teams eliminated from the new League Phase. Once the dust settled at the Bernabeu, Dortmund and Real sat on the same number of points after three games and both can be fairly certain to be knocking around the business end of this competition.
What UEFA appear to have done by having the bigger teams play each other more often but without real fear of being knocked out is to create a series of set-piece events that are almost without greater context. Games seem to take on their own narratives, like Tuesday night’s Bernabeu morality play or Inter Milan’s gnarly resistance to Manchester City on matchday one. They are entertainments or showcases, a series of big hoolies to get us through the winter. In rugby, they would call them test matches.
Not all the showpiece games have lived up to the billing, but when they are as entertaining as Real Madrid vs Borussia Dortmund on Tuesday you might think that context and jeopardy are overrated. Who recalls why Ewan McGregor and Liam Neeson were riding around in that little submarine, but you sure as hell remember the big fish.