José Mourinho had already done the por qué?, the printout and the press conference no-show in under 100 days. Now he’s done a knee slide too, and in the perfect place: back where it all began and where it can all begin again. When Kylian Mbappé scored the first in the clásico on Sunday night, Real Madrid’s manager hardly moved, sitting in the shadow of the bench – but when the striker got the second to win it with time running out, that was different. Mourinho leapt into the light, throwing himself to the grass, the knees of a 63-year-old’s trousers muddy as a schoolboy’s, stuck his tongue out and pumped his fists.
He does so love it when a plan comes together. To the right of him, the bench was emptying, subs joining the players in sprinting towards the south-west corner. As they leapt about, dodging the bottles thrown towards them from the end, way, way up in the furthest corner and stuck inside a glass box like a bunch of David Blaines, the small group of Madrid fans who had come were going mad. In the main stand, a thousand phones were raised. And 600 kilometres west, back in Boadilla, Thibaut Courtois was watching his teammates from the sofa at home, presumably wrapped in a blanket and cradling a cup of Lemsip. On the morning of the biggest game there is, he awoke with flu, forced to miss out.
