In the locker room, Koeman didn't go into much detail about tactics. The importance of the match meant there was no need for him to keep emphasizing it.
The fifteen-minute break flew by.
Back on the pitch.
At Camp Nou, the tension in the air was almost unbearable.
The fans were giving it everything they had, shouting and cheering to spur on their team.
The league title was within reach. No one was going to give it up easily.
The three most closely watched matches.
Barcelona vs. Eibar.
Real Valladolid vs. Atletico Madrid.
Elche vs. Athletic Bilbao.
Two matches would decide the title.
Two would determine who stayed up and who went down.
On the benches of Barcelona, Eibar, Atletico Madrid, and Elche, an assistant coach sat with an earpiece in hand, keeping constant track of the match that mattered most to his team.
Less than five minutes into the second half, Llorente scored a spectacular goal for Atletico Madrid.
0–3. Atletico Madrid were now three goals ahead at Real Valladolid's home ground.
But as long as Barcelona won their match, scoring more goals here would be pointless. It wasn't as if they could score twenty goals in one game!
Barcelona were now more than twenty goals ahead of Atletico Madrid on goal difference. As long as Barcelona didn't slip up, Atletico had no chance.
But the assistant coach sitting on Atletico Madrid's bench suddenly leaped to his feet, so excited he nearly flung his earpiece away.
Seeing this, Simeone, seated beside him, looked delighted too. "Fernandez, what's happening? Has Barcelona fallen behind again?"
The assistant coach shouted excitedly, "Yes! They've just conceded another goal, right after kickoff. Eibar are in the lead again!"
Simeone sprang up, clenched both fists, and roared, as if trying to release all the frustration