Take the points and run

It was a velcro match. Of those to bury him in the garden and never remember him again. Dépor will have no good memories of this ambush in Tudela except for Mackay's save, the final whistle and, above all, the loot. It was one trap after another, one shrinking of heart after another, which was difficult for him to rebel, carried away by his rego, for which it was impossible, at many times, to give a footballing response. With some exception, only shrinkage, seniority and suffering, which increased in the last quarter of an hour from hell. The hand of the goalkeeper from A Coruña finished securing the points. A header from Lapeña before minute ten and a saving stretch in minute 85, a black hole in the middle that threatened to swallow the blue and whites. It was not so. For now, six out of six.

If the duel against Celta B was a honeymoon, a perfect ecosystem in which it seemed to be an accident to be in the First Federation, the opposite awaited them at Ciudad de Tudela. A high and uneven grass, an opponent who presses, who goes to the limit and beyond, who wins every divided ball, who puts the ball into the area at the slightest opportunity... Everything was rough, everything was unpleasant. Over, way over. It was a reality check, the one of every year, the one that used to await you in Second B and now awaits you in the First Federation. Same dog with different collar.

And he arrived without anesthesia. The Navarrese team had already slipped a ball into the area in minute one. A spout and an attempted assault on Mackay's goal were the local calling card, the warning. They were not going to be scared by facing Dépor. Quite the opposite. They smelled blood that hadn't even sprung. The first ten minutes were torture, with attacks from both sides. Of course, the favorite site for their attempts was the right flank of Dépor. It was Benito's debut in an official match due to Trilli's loss and he suffered unspeakably until half an hour. Samanes or anyone who passed by would pop their seams. The lack of preseason and activity in recent years due to different injuries could play against him. It was difficult for him to compete, to put peace on his land.

Of the few reliefs, the only blue and white joy in the first act was Lapeña's goal. If a week ago they had looked close against Celta B, this Sunday Borja Jiménez's team was not going to be less. They had seen the goalkeeper Pellegrino through binoculars, but in the first lateral cross the player from La Rioja slotted the ball into the net. 0-1. Not ten minutes. Dépor was breathing. No one was going to free him from suffering, from fighting the points ball by ball, struggle by struggle. At least he already had some margin of error.

The goal could have given him air, pushed him to have the ball, to put his hand into the game in another way. It was not so. It then became a phased duel, not one-way, but the Olaizola team wanted to play almost every moment. Quiles and Miku dropping balls were the most reliable alternative from A Coruña to try to attack. The man from Huelva, à la Robinson Crusoe, almost made it 0-2. The A Coruña team did quite a lot by maintaining the advantage and keeping their rival at bay, by surviving and holding their own. At least, he had managed to get his opponent to dedicate himself to playing and not to pressure the referee, to make entries at the wrong time. Only football, suffering, but only football.

Dépor came out in the second act with better intentions. His rival was not willing to loosen up. He had to apply himself, to cool the duel almost in any way, even if it was not with the ball, as he would have really liked. He was not spared, even so, from repeated scares with hanging balls, which he ended up imposing between the work of his own defenses, Mackay's know-how and the lack of local aim. To a certain extent, the triumph during those minutes was that little by little the shocks ended up being more sporadic. It did not give for more. It was the harsh reality. Looking at the marker was the greatest consolation and the best oxygen tank to resist.

Borja Jiménez wanted to take care of the details and breathe air into his team with the changes, which came almost from the first minutes of the restart. He withdrew his booked defender, looked after his slower-paced full-back, sought to place two speedsters on the wings and put anti-aircraft around Mackay. It wasn't a bad plan, but the patches only lasted a few minutes. Alberto Quiles had at that moment the opportunity to make it 0-2 again. Not this time either. Today it was only time to suffer and suffer. Nothing else.

And the worst remained for Dépor. The last ten minutes plus the stratospheric addition of a dangerous, gesticulating and theatrical referee were nothing to knock down the Coruña team. The most extreme Tudelano was seen in that period, who hung balls regardless of the distances, who advanced meter by meter, like a rugby team, with the ball living more through the air than on the ground. This touch of outburst ended up drowning and dislocating the people from A Coruña even more. He didn't amount to anything, he was surpassed everywhere. He almost succumbed.

First it was a shot from Cedenilla that caressed the post and then, the play of the game. Minute 85. Crossed center and header from Alain Ribeiro who telegraphed his trajectory to the net with a dribble. When he already seemed defeated and the stands were celebrating the tie, Ian Mackay pulled his lower body and reflexes to push himself and repel the ball with his right mitt. It was decisive, he was justifying his signing. If Ian is here, as well as for the love of some colours, it is to respond in extreme situations, to give his team extra arguments when football abandons them. And today was one of those days. Dépor goes home, after breathing and drying the sweat from his forehead, with a smile. And, in large part, it is thanks to him.