Mbappe, Bellingham embarrass abysmal Vinicius as Simeone curse gives way to Arsenal conspiracy

Diego Simeone at least invented a new way of being knocked out of the Champions League by Real Madrid. Kylian Mbappe shamed Vinicius Junior as Arsenal await.

All that for the honour of facing Arsenal.

“We know about the difficulty for sure but I cannot tell you which one,” Mikel Arteta responded when asked whether he would rather battle the connoisseurs of low-block suffering masochism or encounter the gatekeepers of the Champions League itself upon reaching the quarter-finals.

Yet the answer is obvious: definitely not Atletico Madrid, but definitely not Real Madrid.

The backdrop of envisaging the Gunners either trying increasingly desperately to break down Diego Simeone’s latest uncompromising masterpiece or donning their tinfoil hats to conspiratorialise their way past a team whose hex over this competition has reached absurd proportions soon dissipated into the cool Madrid air, as this knockout tie became less about who might advance and more who would survive, and what would give way first: fairness or fate.

It is a reality Atletico are painfully familiar with. Real knocked them out of the Champions League in four consecutive seasons a decade ago. That run included two finals which went to extra-time in the first case and penalties in the second, as well as Manchester United-contracted Javier Hernandez scoring the only goal of a tie in the 178th minute of 180.

Simeone is the greatest manager in this competition’s history never to win it and their bitter city rivals are invariably the reason behind that solitary blank space on his remarkable Atletico CV.

But all parties should be commended for delivering the same old heartbreak in an entirely new way, reaching such ludicrous levels as to essentially confirm Real Madrid sold their soul to the European Cup long ago and any attempt to wrestle it from their grasp, no matter how seemingly cold and dead, is ultimately futile.

Simeone’s Atletico levelling a knockout tie within half a minute of the second leg sounds like complete nightmare fuel, the opening salvo of a two-hour performance designed specifically and solitarily for the sickos. But the hosts were excellent after Conor Gallagher’s rapid opener – defensive, yes, but not without endeavour and intent at the other end.

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They managed to pack 11 men behind the ball every time Real advanced but whenever Atletico sensed a moment to break they hared it down in numbers. Any loose or lazy touch prompted a wave of red and white stripes to surge forward simultaneously, as if figures connected by the same table football bar as was invisible but absolutely present when they were defending with preposterous organisation and cooperation.

There were some dark arts deployed – the ball boys encouraging a multi-ball game at every Real stoppage to delay the restart was a particular highlight – but that was not the story. Atletico were outplaying Real as well as outfighting and outfoxing them.

Simeone junior and senior celebrated winning a corner just before half-time which Julian Alvarez seemed to shoot from directly. If that was a sign of the confidence and nerve flowing through the hosts, the Argentinean unmistakably trying it again after Jude Bellingham headed the first attempt back behind his own goal solidified it.

This was Atletico’s yard, Atletico’s game and, as time went on, seemingly Atletico’s night. Thibaut Courtois was forced into a save by Alvarez within a minute of the second half and the continued lack of a meaningful response was disconcerting.

But that is the maddening part about Real’s inevitability in this competition. They can look dreadful, disjointed, error-prone, incompetent. And then Kylian Mbappe breaks his anonymity to receive the ball just past the halfway line from Jude Bellingham before gliding past one defender and through another to win a penalty they scarcely deserved.

Real have rotated penalty duties between their Big Three this season. Mbappe and Bellingham, having missed from the spot in vital games, ceded responsibility to Vinicius Junior. That mistake was laid bare when he thumped an abysmal effort over and into a side of the Wanda Metropolitano which unforgivably started to allow itself to believe in the impossible – that this Real side could be conquered.

There was mercifully no Rio Ferdinand soundtrack to this one but perhaps his parroting of “Ballon d’Or” from last season’s final was ringing in Vinicius’ ears. That is one vague explanation for an atrocious and often weirdly display of self-sabotage.

At one stage in extra-time Vinicius collapsed to the ground in forlorn hope of being given a foul, the non-award of which resulted in him remaining sat on the ground in a huff. Bellingham, forced first to retrieve the ball from an Atletico player before taking his prone teammate’s place in the subsequent attack, felt compelled to have a go.

Not long after, Mbappe prevented another quick Atletico counter from a Jan Oblak throw by executing a perfect slide tackle on the halfway line. Vinicius, substituted five minutes before the shootout for a player who didn’t even take one of the spot kicks, should have been embarrassed by his own petulance.

Even as the game veered irrevocably towards the most dramatic conclusion possible, Atletico were the ones pushing hardest to avoid that outcome. Angel Correa could have won it and Jose Maria Gimenez offered a glorious inversion of the trope by lamenting an incorrect corner award by falling hilariously theatrically to his knees with his head in his hands, as if he wasn’t relishing the opportunity to clear it like everything else Real dared put in the area.

Both sides having made all five possible substitutions as cramp became an overriding factor – although it seemed Ferland Mendy just didn’t fancy it anymore in the same way we’ve all felt our hamstring go after one too many miscontrols, while Cesar Azpilicueta embodied the Ian Wright teacher meme with shirt-tucked majesty – the stage was set for penalties.

At least the inherent spectacle in a shootout is binary and linear. A player scores or misses, then the next one loads the chamber and pulls the trigger until a winner is rendered. It is simple, basic and effective in reducing almost four hours of elite, relentless high-stakes competition into a few minutes’ worth of kicks from 12 yards.

But then came that new way to lose, the reinvention of a wheel which has sent Atletico seasons inexorably crashing and burning before and will certainly do so again. Mbappe scored. So did Alexander Sorloth, then Bellingham. Alvarez slipped but managed to despatch his penalty into the roof of the net to keep the sides level.

As Federico Valverde prepared to take his kick, the delay came. Then the check. Then remarkably soon after that, confirmation of an apparent double touch from Alvarez, the inexplicable consequence of which was a technical miss which granted Real a shootout lead they did not subsequently relinquish.

If a keeper advances from their line to save a penalty, a retake is ordered. Yet Alvarez was given no such leeway despite losing his footing and gaining absolutely no viable advantage while scoring. The confusion in the stands was palpable and inevitable, made no better by UEFA’s insistence that the VAR call was made based on what remains deeply inconclusive footage.

There was still time for Valverde and Correa to convert and Oblak to save from Lucas Vazquez, granting Marcos Llorente the opportunity to restore actual parity. But his effort clattered against the crossbar and Antonio Rudiger squeezed his shot through to secure perhaps the most ridiculous Real Madriding yet.

Until, of course, they take on the might of a strikerless Arsenal, who have a remarkably vocal element in their fanbase convinced that some sort of wider sporting plot exists specifically to undermine and thwart them. It seems unfair to unleash Real Madrid in the Champions League on them really.

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