Real Madrid's Struggles at La Cartuja: A Night of Missed Chances

Real Madrid discovered their first hard truth of the season under the floodlights of La Cartuja: when the finish deserts them, everything else suddenly looks fragile.

They created enough chances to win two matches. Maybe three. They hit the woodwork three times, squandered a penalty and ran into a goalkeeper who turned the night into his personal highlight reel. At the centre of it all, Kylian Mbappé, usually the man of calm execution, walked off as the face of Madrid’s exasperation.

Valles’ masterpiece

Fran Valles will remember this game for a long time. Madrid’s forwards certainly will.

He denied Mbappé in almost every conceivable way. One-on-ones, angled drives, close-range efforts – each time the Frenchman shaped to score, Valles read him, blocked him, or watched the ball cannon away off post or bar. The climax came deep into stoppage time, in the 94th minute, when Mbappé finally stood over the penalty that should have salvaged the night.

He struck. Valles guessed right, saved, and La Cartuja shook.

For a moment, Mbappé looked as though he might get a reprieve. There was a brief question over a potential retake, but Hernández Hernández stood firm. No second chance. No rescue act. Madrid’s marquee signing walked back, shoulders heavy, as the frustration around him boiled over.

Chances everywhere, goals nowhere

It was not just Mbappé who suffered. Madrid’s attack produced a catalogue of opportunities: clear sights of goal, dangerous headers, sweeping moves that ended with the ball smacking against the frame of the goal. The sense of inevitability that usually surrounds this frontline never quite arrived.

Mbappé had a double chance in the first half that summed up the night. The first effort was repelled, the rebound smothered with the help of a scrambling defence. Each escape for the visitors seemed to embolden Valles, who grew taller with every save.

Jude Bellingham, so often the man for the decisive moment since the start of the season, found himself similarly thwarted. Two of his headers looked destined for the corner. Valles got there. Another effort beat the keeper but not the crossbar. On another night, Bellingham walks away with a brace and the story writes itself. Here, he was left shaking his head.

Espí also rose to meet a cross with purpose, only to find the same immovable figure in goal. By the end, Valles had stitched together one of the finest performances of his career, if not the definitive one.

Madrid did find the net once, late on, through the Valencia forward, close to the 90th minute. Brief relief, brief roar. Then the flag, then the VAR lines, then the offside. The goal came off the board, and with it, another layer of tension. Alongside the penalty decision, it will feed the debate for hours.

Stars out of sync

This was not Mbappé at his most ruthless. He kept moving, kept offering, kept getting into positions, but the finishing touch abandoned him. For a player who usually needs only a sliver of space, the succession of misses and near-misses felt jarring.

Bellingham, too, looked short of his usual spark. From early on he appeared heavy-legged, as if the oppressive heat of La Cartuja had wrapped itself around him. He ran, he pressed, he tried to knit play together, but the sharp changes of pace, the surging runs into the box that have defined his start to the campaign, were rare. Even so, only Valles and the bar stood between him and another goal.

On the left, Vini endured a bruising night. Time and again he squared up to Héctor Bellerín. Time and again, the Betis full-back came out on top. Vini kept asking for the ball, kept driving at his marker, but found little joy in open play.

His persistence did finally crack something open when he drew the late penalty that handed Madrid their lifeline. It should have been the moment the narrative flipped. Instead, Valles’ save from Mbappé locked it in as another missed opportunity.

Vini had already rattled the woodwork in the first half after one of Madrid’s slickest moves of the game. The shot beat the keeper, not the post. On nights like this, those inches feel like miles.

Questions for the weeks ahead

By the final whistle, the pattern was clear: Madrid had produced volume, territory, and chances. They left with nothing to show for it. For a team built around some of the most decisive attackers in the world, that cuts deeper than a simple early-season setback.

The season is young, the talent unquestioned. But if this is what happens when the finishing touch goes missing, how many more nights like La Cartuja can they afford?