Joselu had waited 15 years to make his international debut and wasn’t going to wait any longer. As fairytales go this was a bit silly. Sent on with eight minutes left, the 32-year-old striker born in Germany and raised in Galicia, a veteran of 10 clubs across three countries including Newcastle and Stoke, was only two minutes into his first game when he scored the goal that finally secured victory for Spain and three minutes into it when he got his second. And so it was that a sometimes nervy opening night for new coach Luis de la Fuente ended with the selección securing a 3-0 win over a Norway team who, like everyone else, left wondering how this had happened.
Working it out might take a while, however fast it finally unfolded. After he had reached Fabián Ruiz’s clever cross to nod in the first with six minutes left, just 149 seconds since he had come on, Joselu had stood by the centre circle holding his head barely able to believe itr. Less than 60 seconds later, he was lying in the corner having only gone and done it again, while the Rosaleda chanted his name. A loose ball, an alert mind and a close range finish had closed the game a way that no one had foreseen but they were loving it, lauding an unexpected hero.
“I still can’t believe I’ve scored twice on my debut. For any player this is just the greatest thing that can happen,” Joselu said. “It’s reward for all the daily work you put in across a career. Just now, when there’s euphoria, I want to thank my wife, my mum, my kids. They’ve all put in a mighty effort to support me to be here.”
An old man had won it for a new team, where 16 of those who had been to the World Cup were no longer even in the squad and only four of the players who began Spain’s last game started. He had also inflicted a painful defeat on visitors who might have reflected that with Erling Haaland it would have been different. They certainly had the chances to change the outcome. “I don’t know about winning but we could have been level; we’re pleased with the first 84 minutes,” coach Stale Solbakken said.
Spain had started well, one of those four repeat starters giving them an early lead when Mikel Merino chased a lost cause, keeping the ball in play on the right. Dani Carvajal found Álvaro Morata, the new captain, who set off across the face of the area and rolled it into the path of Alejandro Balde. His cross, low and fast, was turned into the net with a flick of Dani Olmo’s ankle, contact made with the outside of his boot. At that point, 11 minutes in, Spain had 93% of possession and were on course for a thousand passes again.
But if that felt familiar, so is Spain’s capacity to invite difficulties and two minutes later Kepa Arrizabalaga and Aymeric Laporte played themselves into trouble. Alex Sørloth robbed the ball and found the hugely impressive Martin Ødegaard inside the area, the opportunity opening before him only to be denied by Nacho and Merino who, Ødegaard felt, was perhaps fortunate not to have given away a penalty for his challenge.
The game tilted Norway’s way, Ødegaard playing and pointing, not just seeing the pass he had to make but the passes everyone else did too. He released Sørloth on the right for a lovely cross to the far post from which Fredrik Aursnes struck a hard, clean side-footed volley from corner of the six yard box that Arrizabalaga saved with his head. Although that move was replicated at the other end soon after, Merino’s volley stopped by Ørjan Nyland’s legs, Norway kept coming.
Ødegaard and Sørloth supplied a shooting chance for Birger Melling and there was a second penalty appeal when Carvajal seemed to push over Mohamed Elyounoussi. Marcus Pedersen’s shot was sent spinning off Nacho’s foot and head and towards the goal where Arrizabalaga had to slap it off the line. It was a little edgy in Malaga now.
Spain made substitutions in search of lost control – Dani Ceballos in particular – while Norway made theirs in search of the goal they probably felt they deserved and should have got when a lovely move saw Patrick Berg clip to Sørloth alone at the far post but the volley flew wide off his shin.
Standing there head in hands, Sørloth could not believe it but that was nothing compared to how Joselu was about to feel, two days off his 33rd birthday. A header, a finish and the fairytale was told.
