Sid Lowe

If Real Sociedad win Saturday's Copa del Rey final, Pellegrino Matarazzo will be the first U.S.-born coach to win a trophy in one of Europe's top five leagues. It has been quite a journey.

Liverpool legend talks memories of Istanbul, learning magic and his adventures in Malaysia with Johor Darul Ta’zim Luis García was “super cool”, he says. That, at least, was the plan, but things have a habit of working out differently. When the former Atlético Madrid, Barcelona and Liverpool player retired in 2016, it was the second time: he walked out of the game in 2014 and walked back in again six months later. But this time, he wasn’t going to be affected. All that suffering and satisfaction, the pressure, the emotion: that was no more. “I was always very competitive and once I had left football, I thought I wasn’t going to have those feelings I had before,” he says. “I still enjoy football, still play seven-a-side with my friends – every Saturday at 10am, Los Jareños Club de Futbol – but I thought I had lost that and it wasn’t coming back. In fact, I was trying to avoid it; I didn’t want it. So when it happened, it surprised me. I didn’t expect football to give me that again. But there I was, crying.”

Teenager’s landmark night delivers derby win that confirms what has been clear for weeks: this title race has been over in spirit long before the maths agrees Lamine Yamal had not crossed the line yet but he was celebrating already, everyone else following him. It was not over, not officially, but it was done: the derby and the whole damn thing. The nights Barcelona took their last two league titles, they did so against RCD Espanyol, heading beyond the city limits and coming back as champions; the evening they took their third in four years, they faced the same opponents: the rivals Barca’s goalkeeper had grown up with and so many of them had grown up against. Chased from the Cornella pitch in 2023, cycling up Avinguda Diagonal in 2025, this time it was the 18-year-old with the symbolic escape. There were three and a half minutes left on Saturday night when it happened. Marc Casadó slipped the ball through, Lamine Yamal ran on to it and Marko Dmitrovic ran out to it. The Barcelona forward blocked the Espanyol goalkeeper’s clearance, the rebounded setting him up and leaving Dmitrovic and everyone else to watch the inevitable. Alone, running free into the area, an open goal before him, Lamine Yamal slowed, smiled, maybe even laughed a little, took in the moment, and raised his arms, Usain Bolt contemplating Richard Thompson and Walter Dix. He had not finished, his team had not either, but he knew. They all did.

Kosovo’s Vedat Muriqi broke down in tears after a late winner that took his side out of the relegation zone For one magical moment in the sunshine and the spotlight, the roughest man in Spanish football was the smoothest, the toughest, its most vulnerable. With his ponytail and the stubble covering a face that’s been lived in, they call Vedat Muriqi the Pirate and he’s supposed to have the turning circle of a galleon. But here there was grace, all 6ft 4in and 14st 8lb of him moving as if he were wearing slippers, not a pair of size 15s. The first touch, with the left, couldn’t have been softer; the second, with the right, couldn’t have been harder, all that emotion unleashed with the violence. The ball crashed into the net and the Kosovan crashed on to the turf, where he wept. Muriqi had just scored the goal that may have brought the league title race to an early close, Mallorca defeating Real Madrid 2-1 with his 91st-minute goal a couple of hours before Barcelona went to Atlético Madrid and won in the 89th. But that wasn’t why he lay there, everyone going wild around him. It wasn’t why his face was hidden but his feelings couldn’t be, huge frame heaving. Muriqi was sobbing so hard it was a wonder Son Moix didn’t shake with him; some of the 23,015 inside it certainly did. Teammates came to him, embracing him briefly from behind then leaving him to let it out: first Omar Mascarell, then Sergi Darder, then Johan Mojica.