Bernabéu erupts as Rüdiger’s late show seals Copa del Rey final spot for Madrid

At one minute past midnight a self-declared madman sent the Santiago Bernabéu into a state of delirium and Real Madrid into the final of the Copa del Rey. El Loco leapt above the Real Sociedad defence and into the stands at the north end of this stadium, where supporters had seen their team go and do it again, their way. It had been long, it had been wild, and at the end of the night, somehow they were the ones celebrating, which it seems they always are. Madrid did not win and were not always very good until they were irresistible, but it was enough.

Three times they had trailed but ultimately a draw, secured by the thumping forehead of Antonio Rüdiger in the 115th minute was enough. A game that went from 0-1 to 1-1, 1-3 to 3-3, and then 3-4 finally finished 4-4 deep into extra time.

Real Sociedad became the first team, beyond Barcelona, to come here and score four since they did so themsleves en route to winning the cup cup four years ago; this time, 5-4 winners on aggregate, it is Real Madrid, somehow surviving again, who will be in Seville, where Atlético Madrid or Barcelona will await.

View image in fullscreen Antonio Rüdiger and Arda Guler celebrate with the Real Madrid fans after late drama. Photograph: Anadolu/Getty Images

This semi-final had the ending everyone expected, the Bernabéu bouncing about; it was just the journey there no one anticipated, nor how close Real Sociedad came.

A goal down from the first leg, defeated 1-0 at home then, eliminated at Old Trafford next, with a solitary win in the five weeks since – an unconconvincing 2-1 victory against virtually relegated Real Valladolid – and with Brais Mendez out injured, few truly thought that Real Sociedad had any chance of going through. The coach Imanol Alguacil though had said he could see it. And, 15 minutes into this game, suddenly others could too. What no one expected, even then, was for the feeling to last so long, so late into the night, still there when the clock struck 12. Which was when Madrid finally slipped in the knife.

It had been a long, long night, and it had hurt all the more for that. It had delighted too, on the other side, another astonishing occasion here.

La Real had started well, keeping the ball out of reach of a passive Madrid and then, in a flash, releasing it into the space behind them to open the scoring. Martin Zubimendi provided the first telling pass, Madrid drawn in and then cut open. Pablo Marin nodded it on, aware of the run over his shoulder, and there was Ander Barrenetxea dashing into a familiar space, behind Lucas Vázquez. Cutting into the penalty area from the left, he guided his finish under Andriy Lunin and into the net.

For all that this was a Copa del Rey semi-final, there had been little sense of jeopardy or urgency, and now the tie was level. Maybe this was on after all or maybe Madrid would react now that they had to, which tends to be the way. Instead, they kind of carried on. It is not that they hadn’t had half chances before – Endrick had tried an outrageous overhead kick after Igor Zubeldia had allowed the ball to bounce inside the area and Alex Remiro had pushed away a Vinícius Júnior effort – and nor was there a sudden acceleration either, that typical bugle call from the Bernabéu.

There was time, after all. Talent, too. A sharp turn led to Jude Bellingham escaping Nayef Aguerd and shooting wide before Rodrygo’s effort flashed past the post, and they got the equaliser.

It was a wonderful goal too, Vinícius bent a superb pass with the outside of his boot from inside his own half. The ball drew the perfect trajectory, just away from Zubeldia, as if teasing him as it went past, and Endrick ran through to scoop it over Remiro. Real Sociedad’s lead had lasted just 15 minutes, normal service resumed?

That was kind of how it felt, in truth, and therein perhaps lay the trap, a failure from Madrid to appreciate how close they were to the edge. Only they always find a way to escape that fate. Endrick opened the second half running at Sociedad on the left and almost setting up Rodrygo on the edge of the six-yard box.

From the corner, Bellingham headed wide from barely a yard and got a full goalkeeper glove in his face for it. The Englishman also had a 20-yard shot pushed away by Remiro just after the hour. At the other end, a dreadful error from Camavinga almost gifted Real Sociedad a goal.

Otherwise, not very much was happening, a few frustrated whistles occasionally greeting Madrid’s more plodding passages of play and the looser passes, those moments when it seemed they were wilfully, almost sleepily ambling into dangerous territory, offering the visitors an opportunity. As if sure that at some point they would score, and it would be done.

That risk was underlined when, with 20 minutes to go, Lunin had to make a superb save from Zubimendi’s side-footed volley. From two yards and a tight angle, Oyarzabal put the shot over. And then, a moment later, it happened. Kubo ran at Madrid, deep into the area, and although the ball was blocked it came to Marin who went at them again, delivering a low ball that went in off David Alaba.

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Madrid had put on Kylian Mbappé by then – not a bad sub to have – but they did not shake themselves out of this, not just yet. In fact, it was Sociedad that threatened more, far more, Zubimendi swiping at another volley from yet another corner, the numbers racking up swiftly. This time, he missed; the next time Sociedad advanced, they scored.

View image in fullscreen Mikel Oyarzabal makes it 3-1 and 3-2 on aggregate to the visitors. Photograph: Ángel Martínez/Getty Images

Kubo ran at them again, stepping away from Luka Modric and Raul Asencio and laying the ball back to Oyarzabal, whose shot hit Alaba first, the post second, Lunin third and the net fourth. Real Sociedad were 3-1 up, 3-2 on aggregate and on their way through. So now Madrid reacted, now this stadium stood, now they made a noise, and now what happens here happened. Barely a minute had passed by when Vinícius, for whom Carlo Ancelotti had had angry words before, raced up the left and delivered a perfect cross for Bellingham to guide in a volley.

It was level now but there were still eight minutes left and that’s an eternity to them, Aurelién Tchouaméni rising to bring the final rumble of thunder and a place in the final, or so it seemed.

Instead it turned out that eight minutes really was an eternity, time enough for so much to happen, for football to do its magic again; for Madrid to experience, if only for a little while, what they so often inflict on others and seemed to have just inflicted on Sociedad. Again, it was Kubo, who had torn into them all night.

This time, Eduardo Camavinga came across and wiped him out. But one last, violent service for the cause was not the salvation he had expected, because from the free kick Sergio Gómez’s wonderful inswinging delivery, just out of reach of Lunin’s right hand, was headed in by Oyarzabal.

Amazingly, there was still time for Bellingham’s diving header to be brilliantly saved by Remiro, but half an hour more awaited.

Exhausted now, Sociedad were hanging on, Madrid running at them, Vinícius seeming never to tire. If anything, he was getting faster, if only in comparison to those around him. He was getting more determined too, a one-man whirlwind. He struck the side-netting on one side and had another shot blocked as defenders backed off. Mbappé had two chances as well: the first flew over; for the second he lifted the ball over Zubeldia five yards out and tried to head past Remiro.

Still Madrid came, but there was no way through, penalties came closer, and you started to wonder if this time, maybe, just maybe, it would have a different end. And then the clock ran past midnight and there, rising above them all was just the right man to drive everyone wild.

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