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The Almighty Real Madrid had fallen...

That was the one sentence in the mouth of every football fan across the world as for one night, the world’s attention narrowed on the Spanish Capital club.

Having forged an unbeaten run all season, making it all the way to the New Year, 2027 without suffering a single defeat, Real Madrid’s stalwart armor finally suffered its first crack, and it was not without consequences.

That ga was not a UEFA Champions League knockout ga where clubs have the luxury of 2 legs, where even if you lose the first leg, you have the hope of making a coback in the second leg.

This was not a La Liga league ga loss either where the season is still long, and you can make up for lost points by stringing together a winning streak.

This was the Supercopa de Espana semifinal, and losing ant losing.

Real Madrid were out and out.

The desert sky still buzzed with echoes of the Madrid derby when the final whistle’s tremor rippled across the world.

Real Madrid had fallen, not to Barcelona, not to a European titan, but to their fiercest city rivals... Atlético, in the cruelest way imaginable.

119th minute, Julian Alvarez’s tap-in.

119th minute, Diego Sione’s sprint.

119th minute, Madrid’s collapse.

That was truly one of the most agonizing ways to bow out of a cup competition. If you ask 90% of fans what types of goal they hate most, goals scored as late as the 119th minute would surely rate as the one.

Afterall, a goal at the 119th minute wasn’t just a goal, it was a death sentence dooming you and your club to defeat.

A goal in the 10th minute could be salvaged.

A goal in the 25th minute, 50th minute, heck, even 90th minute could be salvaged. Afterall, then, the players with unnatural stamina could still pull out a mont of magic in additional ti.

But a goal in the 119th minute? When legs were already as heavy as lead and lungs were burning?

That was diabolical, and that was the heartbreak that Real Madrid fans faced on the 8th of January, 2027.

Spain woke up the next morning in disbelief as the dia storm started in earnest, fanning the rippling flas of Real Madrid’s first defeat of the season.

Marca scread across its front page. ["DERBY TRAGEDY: REAL FALL IN RIYADH!"]

AS splashed with Diego Sione’s image mid-roar. ["EL CHOLO STILL KING."]

El País wrote. ["Madrid’s brilliance flickered, but Atlético’s iron lungs endured. This wasn’t tactics, this was sheer force of will."]

anwhile in Barcelona, Mundo Deportivo wasted no ti twisting the knife. ["FINAL WITHOUT REAL."]

And beneath it sat Samuel Moses’ picture, arms crossed, eyes blazing with a will so fierce it seed capable of burning the world to oblivion.

["HIS FINAL NOW."]

After such a significant event in Spanish football, legends and forr players couldn’t resist the spectacle as they chipped in with their opinion.

Fernando Torres was blunt and proud. "Atlético showed tonight why derbies aren’t played on paper, and that gas can be won by sheer grit and spirit. Griezmann and Alvarez were relentless, this was historic".

Raúl, visibly pained on Spanish TV said his piece. "If this was any other club, the dia won’t be crucifying them this much, but Madrid is Madrid, we’re judged by a benchmark far ahead of any other club".

"Well, Madrid had chances," he continued. "But Oblak was unreal; he denied Mbappé countless tis. Vinícius did his bit, creating havoc, but football punishes mistakes. This loss hurts".

Xavi Hernandez, watching from afar, chuckled during a pundit appearance. "Madrid underestimated Atlético’s fire. Sotis, sheer force of will can just be unstoppable like that".

"Of course they’ll recover, but it won’t be tonight".

And then Lionel ssi, a man whose words still bent the sport added his piece to the raging flas of the dia. "Barcelona are favorites now".

"Sam knows finals define legacies, I believe he’s ready".

...

Back in Madrid, the fallout was imdiate.

In Valdebebas, silence reigned. Mbappé avoided caras, head bowed. Vinícius stord past microphones, muttering curses in Portuguese.

As for Jude Bellingham, he answered politely, but his words dripped frustration. "We controlled most of the ga, I believe we had it, but football is decided by monts. Atlético took theirs".

Xabi Alonso shouldered the weight in the press room. "This is on ". He said.

"We pressed too high, we left gaps. My players gave everything, but tonight wasn’t enough. We learn, and we grow".

But Spanish dia was ruthless.

"Alonso exposed."

"Madrid stumble early in 2027," they wrote and said.

"Can Los Blancos survive this ntal blow?"

...

Barcelona’s perspective was different than all others.

In Riyadh, the Barça camp watched the chaos unfold from their hotel. Raphinha laughed aloud. "So no Madrid final? Dios mío, I can’t believe it."

Yamal shook his head. "Atlético... they fight like mad dogs."

Pedri looked across at Sam, smirking. "So? No El Clásico. You disappointed?"

Sam leaned back, calm as ever. "Not really. Madrid falling early just ans less noise. The final is ours to take, but don’t think Atlético will roll over. They’ll fight harder than Betis."

The team nodded, the atmosphere sharpening.

...

In Madrid, fury spilled onto radio shows as callers cursed Alonso’s naivety, blad Mbappé’s misses, and questioned whether the club’s "Galáctico rebirth" was nothing but hype.

In Barcelona, fans flooded plazas chanting Sam’s na, waving his Ballon d’Or mural like a banner.

"El Dios del Fútbol nos llevará al título!"

"Football God will carry us to the trophy!"

In Nigeria, Lagos streets replayed Alvarez’s goal again and again, laughter mingling with pride. "Sam’s road is clear now, Atlético na small matter!"

By midday, every dia outlet scread the sa line.

"Barcelona vs Atlético Madrid – Riyadh Final Showdown".

Diego Sione’s warriors vs Hansi Flick’s juggernauts.

Griezmann’s craft vs Sam’s genius.

Marca teased. ["If Sione could break Madrid, can he break Barcelona?"]

Mundo Deportivo answered. ["Not with Samuel Moses on the pitch."]

As Riyadh braced for the final, one truth echoed everywhere...

the Supercopa was no longer a Spanish formality, it was a battlefield now.

And Samuel Moses stood at its heart.

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