Karim Benzema broke Atlético Madrid’s spirit

Karim Benzema didn’t have to do that to Atlético Madrid. Well, he was under the obligation to perform well for Real Madrid, and that includes creating the chance for the goal that would effectively end the contest between the two teams. That is true, but he didn’t have to be so mean about it.

Benzema didn’t have to give Stefan Savic so many mixed signals that the defender thought he had a chance at love when he was really in the purgatory of the friend zone the whole time. He didn’t have to leave Diego Godin in two minds like the friend who wants to jump in the fight but isn’t really about that life and knows it. And there was no need to leave José Giménez in the dust like the Fast and Furious series does to the concept of physics. Yet Benzema did all of this, because he had to continue the tradition of breaking the hearts of Atlético Madrid fans everywhere. He had no choice in the matter, because he was only a vessel for one of football’s greatest trolling jobs.

There’s a cutscene in the first God of War, after you supposedly beat Ares in the final fight, where the god sends you into a different dimension. In that other world you end up having to protect your wife and child while fighting a horde of clones of yourself. The message of that challenge relates back to the reason for the game in the first place and plays on Kratos’ guilt. That he was the one responsible for the death of his family, even if he was under the control of Ares and doing the god’s bidding.

But before you hit the ground and have to complete the absurd task, Ares gives a small monologue about the purpose of the entire exercise. As you fall into that spirit world, Ares says:

“I have taught you many ways to kill a mortal, Kratos. Flesh that burns, bones that break. But to break a man’s spirit, is to truly destroy him.”

There are different ways to beat your rivals. A one-nil win signifies that the two teams may be equal in strength — that it was a tough encounter — but you managed to squeak out a win either due to sheer luck or just being more lethal than your opponents. A large scoreline usually supposes dominance but it doesn’t really destroy the loser. If they never had a chance, the encounter can be written off as either an outlier or evidence that the gulf between the two teams is so great that it’s practically not even a derby at that point. There’s no real tension to a big scoreline unless there was extra time involved.

What Real Madrid has been doing to Atlético is so much more sadistic. They’re not trying to beat their city rivals, but to break them spiritually. The 3-0 win in the first leg was Real reemphasizing that they’re one of the best teams in the world. Much better than Atléti, who have struggled this year. There was no real drama beyond the natural conclusion that one team is good but that the other is greater.

This game wasn’t like that. This game was more like the final in 2014, 2016 and the semifinal in 2015. Real gave them hope. Atlético scored two quick goals to cut the aggregate score to 2-3, giving them that deceptive and brutal hope of coming so close to overcoming what seemed impossible. Real dangled the lie of everything being possible right in front of Atlético’s eyes. Atléti could practically taste the glory. They could see the next day’s headlines lionizing their efforts. Their heart and fight. Their team spirit. Their underdog story. They were so close to a dream ending to the game and to returning to the Champions League Final for another chance to get their hands on the biggest trophy in club football.

Real Madrid let Atlético dream to the point that they could hear the thousands of fans screaming as their team walked out of the tunnel for the biggest game of the season. Then, as is tradition, Real tightened a fist around the collective heart of Atléti and their fans, and squeezed it until it exploded. Real treated Atlético the way Lisa Simpson treated Ralph Wiggum when he was in love with her.

In 2014, Atlético were leading 1-0 until the 93rd minute. They were mere seconds away from being crowned European Champions. And as is tradition as well, Sergio Ramos happened. Then in extra time, Real blitzed the tired Atlético so badly that Diego Simeone was left in a state of deep despair: “In life, and in football, you’ve got everything one day, then you’ve got nothing the next.”

In 2015, it was even worse. After 178 scoreless minutes between the two legs, Atlético were undone by a non-Brazilian who has his nickname on the back of his shirt. Javier Hernandez scored in the 88th minute. A tragic moment for Atlético and for anyone who is a fan of jersey etiquette.

2016 might have been the cruelest. Antoine Griezmann missing the penalty. Yannick Ferreira Carrasco scoring a beauty to level the game with time running out and give his team a chance at redemption. Then the tension of penalty kicks. The absolute last chance for Atlético to beat Real since they hadn’t been able to do it in regular or extra time. But Juanfran missed his and a new type of heartbreak was added to the long list of heartbreaks.

All Benzema did this time was to make his mark on what has become routine. Rather than doing it in added time, extra time or during penalties, Real decided that they would let Atlético score early before pushing the object of desire just a little bit further away so their opponents could suffer. Benzema’s goal basically ended the tie, but it happened early enough that Atlético had to keep fighting and convincing themselves that there was a chance when there really wasn’t.

Real Madrid keeps inventing new ways to break Atlético, and this time it was Benzema toeing the end line like Elmer Fudd shushing and telling the audience that he was hunting Bugs Bunny. This can only be seen as Atlético’s eternal punishment for giving Fernando Torres another chance.