The corner came to nothing.
Gamón's delivery was cleared at the near post, and Elche quickly pushed their defensive line forward, squeezing the space Valencia had worked so hard to create. Johan chased the loose ball without reward before jogging back into position, clapping his hands once.
"Keep moving," he shouted. "They'll crack."
Álex heard him but kept his eyes on the pitch. Every time the ball changed feet, he glanced over both shoulders, building another picture of the game in his mind. The spaces were different now. Smaller. Hidden. Elche had no intention of giving him the freedom he enjoyed against Miguelturra.
That was fine.
Football rarely gave the same answer twice.
Carlos stepped into midfield and found Hugo with a firm pass. Hugo turned under pressure before slipping the ball into Gamón, who was already scanning ahead.
For a brief moment, Álex drifted towards the left side of the pitch.
The midfielder tracking him followed instinctively.
Gamón saw it.
"So that's where you've gone..."
He carried the ball himself instead of forcing the pass, drawing another defender before releasing it wide to Víctor García. Valencia switched play from left to right with patience, and although the move ended with Dominykas firing into the side netting, Paco applauded from the technical area.
"Again," he called. "That's the rhythm."
---
Minutes slipped by, and the match settled into an uncomfortable balance.
Elche defended with discipline, but they were beginning to chase more than they wanted. Every time Álex wandered away from his usual position, somebody in blue had to make a choice. Follow him and leave space elsewhere, or hold the shape and risk giving him time on the ball.
Neither option felt comfortable.
Johan noticed it before anyone else.
As they waited for a throw-in, he leaned towards Álex.
"They're watching you more than the ball."
Álex smiled.
"Then let's make them watch the wrong thing."
The throw was taken quickly.
Gamón received under pressure and shielded the ball until Hugo offered support. Two short passes later, it arrived at Álex's feet just inside Elche's half.
A defender closed immediately.
Álex never tried to beat him.
Instead, he laid the ball back first time and sprinted into the gap the defender had just abandoned. Gamón understood the idea instantly, threading a pass into Pablo's path instead.
The winger burst down the left before whipping a dangerous cross across the six-yard box.
Johan threw himself at it.
A stretching defender reached it first.
The clearance bounced behind for another corner.
Johan slapped his hands together.
"We're close."
---
High in the stand, Oluwaseun Reeves watched without taking his eyes off the pitch.
The people around him wanted moments.
Goals.
Dribbles.
Something worth replaying.
He was watching something else.
Every movement Álex made asked Elche another question.
Sooner or later, one of them would answer incorrectly.
---
The breakthrough arrived in the thirty-sixth minute.
It began with patience.
Abril rolled the ball short to Carlos instead of sending it long. Carlos found Rubén, who calmly played into Hugo before Elche's press could close him down.
The ball reached Gamón near the centre circle.
He looked forward once.
Álex had drifted away from the crowded centre again, taking his marker a few steps with him.
That was enough.
Gamón drove into the space that had opened and released Pablo on the overlap.
The winger took the pass in stride and looked up.
Johan was already attacking the near post.
The cross arrived with pace.
Johan met it first time.
The shot flew beyond the goalkeeper and crashed into the roof of the net.
For a heartbeat, everything stood still.
Then the home crowd found its voice.
Johan sprinted towards the corner flag, punching the air before turning back towards his teammates.
Pablo reached him first.
Gamón arrived next.
As Álex joined the celebration, Johan wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
"You dragged them away."
Álex laughed.
"You finished it."
"Doesn't happen without you."
The scoreboard gave the goal to Johan.
The assist belonged to Pablo.
Álex's name appeared nowhere.
Paco didn't care.
Neither did Álex.
---
David Figueira smiled as the replay rolled.
"Johan Villa with his third league goal of the season."
Fermín pointed towards the screen.
"Watch Castillo."
David looked again.
"He never even touches the final pass."
"No," Fermín replied. "But he moves two defenders before the move reaches Pablo. Sometimes the best contribution is the one that disappears before the cameras notice it."
---
Elche's response was immediate.
Conceding forced them out of their shell, and for the first time all afternoon they committed bodies forward with real intent.
Valencia defended the first attack comfortably.
The second was far more dangerous.
A clever one-two on the right opened enough space for Elche's winger to deliver an early cross. Carlos won the initial header, but the clearance dropped invitingly twenty yards from goal.
The volley took a slight deflection.
Abril reacted late.
The ball skipped inside the far post.
Silence swept across the home stand before a small pocket of travelling supporters erupted.
1-1.
Gamón kicked the turf in frustration.
"So unlucky."
Carlos looked towards Abril.
"My fault."
The goalkeeper shook his head immediately.
"We deal with the next one."
Álex retrieved the ball from the net and carried it back to the centre circle.
Nobody argued.
Nobody panicked.
There were still minutes left before the break.
---
The whistle for halftime arrived with both sides locked together.
As the players walked towards the tunnel, Johan fell into step beside Álex.
"They worked hard to stop you."
Álex wiped the sweat from his forehead and smiled.
"They haven't stopped us."
Ahead of them, Paco held the dressing-room door open without saying a word.
Whatever needed to be said...
Could wait until everyone was inside.