God Of football

Chapter 200: Derby

The final whistle at the Mestalla brought an end to an exciting yet frustrating 2-2 draw between Valencia and Mallorca.

While the match offered moments of brilliance and grit, it also left many Valencia fans with a lingering sense of disappointment.

A game they had expected to dominate ended in a stalemate, and the absence of Izan, the teenage sensation, became the primary focus of discussion.

The murmurs started even before kickoff when the team sheets were announced. Izan’s name was conspicuously absent from the starting XI, left on the bench.

Social media immediately lit up with reactions. ”How do you leave out your best player on the bench for such an important match?” one fan tweeted, tagging Rubén Baraja.

In the stadium, pockets of fans could be heard debating the decision as they waited for the game to begin.

Despite chances to secure the win, Valencia’s attack seemed to lack the spark and unpredictability that Izan consistently brought.

With every missed opportunity, fans grew more vocal. ”This is exactly where Izan makes the difference,” one shouted from the stands. ”We’re too predictable without him!”

By the time the final whistle blew, the frustration was palpable. Fans leaving the stadium had mixed reactions.

”This should have been an easy win,” one supporter said, shaking his head. ”Izan would’ve torn their defense apart.

He’s the only one who can make those runs and create something out of nothing.”

On Twitter, one fan posted a picture of Izan celebrating a past goal with the caption, ”We needed him today.”

However, not all reactions were critical of Baraja’s decision. A more measured section of the fanbase took to forums and social media to defend the coach.

”Let’s remember Izan is still only 16 despite his stature and maturity,” one post read. ”If we overplay him now, we’ll burn him out.

Baraja’s thinking long-term, not just one game.”

Another fan added, ”Remember Ansu Fati? Too many games, too young. Baraja’s doing the right thing.”

[Before Lamine, there was Ansu. I really hope he regains his confidence]

In his post-match press conference, Baraja addressed the growing criticism. ”I understand the fans’ frustration, but this is a decision we made with Izan’s future in mind.

He’s been playing a lot recently, and we have to manage his development carefully. He’s a special player, and we want to keep him healthy and growing.”

While some fans appreciated the coach’s reasoning, others remained unconvinced. ”It’s about balance,” one fan argued in a group chat.

”Yes, he’s young, but this was a winnable game. We lost the chance to gain an advantage before the second leg at the Mallorca stadium because we lacked creativity, and Izan is our most creative player.”

By the end of the evening, the debate raged on. Some fans pointed to the upcoming fixtures as justification for resting the teenager, while others couldn’t shake the feeling that Valencia had let two vital points slip away.

Regardless of which side they took, all agreed on one thing: Izan’s absence had been keenly felt.

The young prodigy had already become a pivotal part of Valencia’s team, and the match served as a stark reminder of just how much influence he wielded on the pitch.

...….

Immediately after the game with, Mallorca, Valencia transitioned to getting ready for the derby of the community against Villarreal.

The draw had been frustrating, but there was no time to dwell on it.

A derby was more than just a game; it was a battle for regional supremacy, a fixture that ignited passions on both sides of the community.

The atmosphere at the Paterna training ground was intense the next day. Coach Rubén Baraja wasted no time addressing the squad.

He stood at the front of the locker room, his voice steady but commanding. ”Mallorca is done. Focus on Villarreal. This is our derby. This is about pride, about showing who owns this region.”

The players nodded, their faces serious. Baraja didn’t need to say much more. The weight of the occasion was clear to everyone.

Training sessions that week were grueling but purposeful. The coaching staff had studied Villarreal’s recent matches in detail.

Their midfield was compact, their attack clinical, but their backline had weaknesses that Valencia could exploit.

Baraja designed drills to capitalize on those vulnerabilities, focusing on quick transitions and wide play.

”Izan,” Baraja called during one session, waving the teenager over.

”They’ll try to close you down quickly. Stay calm, pick your moments, and when you see the space, attack it. Use your speed to stretch them.”

Izan nodded, his expression a bit dull. He had become Valencia’s plan A in games and he was starting to feel the weight.

During scrimmages, the team worked on breaking down Villarreal’s compact defensive lines.

Hugo Duro practiced holding up the ball under pressure, while Diego López focused on threading quick, incisive passes through midfield.

Izan, as always, was electric, darting past defenders with ease, his pace and precision drawing murmurs of admiration from his teammates.

Off the pitch, the preparation was just as intense. The medical team worked to ensure every player was in peak condition, while the media department ramped up promotions for the derby, releasing videos of past victories and calling on fans to pack the stands.

The players could feel the city’s growing anticipation. Fans gathered outside the training ground every day, chanting and waving banners.

Many called for Izan, their young star who had become a beacon of hope for Valencia’s future to step up and lead the team to victory.

Inside the locker room, the mood was a mix of focus and camaraderie.

Players joked to ease the tension, but there was an unspoken understanding that this match was bigger than most.

Veteran players like José Gayà offered advice to the younger ones, reminding them of the significance of the derby.

”Derbies aren’t just about skill,” Gayà told Luka Kovac who had been recently appointed as the second-choice keeper as they laced up their boots. ”It’s about heart. You give everything—no excuses.”

As the day progressed, the tactical drills became sharper, and the players were more unified. By the eve of the next day, Valencia was ready.

The team knew Villarreal would be a tough opponent, but they also knew they had something special—a squad fueled by youthful energy, experienced leadership, and the fiery passion of their fans.

When Baraja gathered the players for the final meeting before match day, his message was simple. ”We play for each other. We play for this city. Leave everything on the pitch.”

The room erupted in cheers. The Derbi de la Comunitat was here, and Valencia was ready to fight for their place at the top of the region.

...…

The Mestalla was alive with energy long before kickoff, its stands a sea of white and black, punctuated by the occasional bright yellow of the traveling Villarreal fans.

The Derbi de la Comunitat was more than a football match—it was a battle for pride, a clash that divided households and ignited passions across the region.

Valencia’s supporters, renowned for their intensity, had arrived early, chanting and waving their flags as they transformed the stadium into a cauldron of noise.

The massive blanquinegre mosaic displayed across the stands during the players’ entrance was a masterpiece of unity, spelling out ”Orgull de València” (Pride of Valencia).

As the players emerged from the tunnel, the roar of the crowd became deafening.

Valencia’s team, led by captain José Gayà, walked out with purpose, their white kits gleaming under the stadium lights.

Izan, just 16 but already the team’s most important player this season, strode confidently behind Gayà.

The young star glanced around the stadium, taking in the atmosphere, his expression calm but his eyes betraying the energy in them.

Villarreal’s squad followed, their bright yellow kits stark against the passionate sea of Valencia’s colors.

Led by Dani Parejo, a former Valencia captain turned rival, the visitors were met with loud boos from the home fans, a reminder that Mestalla was hostile territory.

Before the whistle, the teams lined up for the traditional handshakes, and Izan found himself face-to-face with Parejo.

The Villarreal captain offered a small nod, and Izan, already accustomed to being in the spotlight, returned it with quiet confidence.

After that, the two captains met at midfield for the pre-match coin toss, their handshake brief but respectful.

Gayà, with a subtle smirk, pointed toward the end Valencia would defend in the first half, ensuring the team would attack toward the Curva Nord—the heart of Valencia’s most fervent supporters—in the second.

The pre-match tension was palpable, but it didn’t dampen the energy of the crowd. The fans waved scarves, sang club anthems, and beat drums that reverberated through the stadium.

Chants of ”Amunt València!” rang out, the call echoing like a battle cry.

As the teams huddled one final time, Gayà spoke with the authority of a leader. ”This is our house. They don’t win here. Fight for the badge, for the fans, for each other.”

Izan stood at the edge of the huddle, feeling the weight of the atmosphere. He looked up at the stands, where banners proclaiming his name hung alongside the club’s crest.

He wasn’t just a teenager playing football anymore—he was a symbol of hope for Valencia.

The whistle blew to signal the start, and the Mestalla erupted in a wall of noise that seemed to shake the very foundations of the stadium.

The derby had begun, and Valencia, with their young star at the heart of the action, was ready to fight for the region’s pride.