When Cavani scored his hat trick and Napoli's fifth goal, the Bernabeu fell into a stunned silence.
For a moment, the vast stadium seemed eerily quiet. But within a minute or two, scattered applause began to echo throughout the stands. It wasn't coming from one section or a single group, it appeared spontaneously from fans scattered across the stadium.
Yet at the same time, a different scene was unfolding.
Fans began to rise from their seats, their heads hung low, and silently filed out of the stadium.
It wasn't just a handful of people but a steady stream of disillusioned supporters leaving long before the match was over. With more than half an hour left to play, this exodus was a striking visual protest.
The fans leaving early weren't just expressing their disappointment; they were making a silent, powerful statement against the players on the pitch and the club executives watching from the VIP stands.
Five goals down. Was this really happening? Was Real Madrid going to endure yet another humiliating defeat?
The fans couldn't accept it. Their dissatisfaction, grief, and anger spilled over in the only way they could express it: by leaving.
The live broadcast director, perhaps out of respect or tact, avoided showing the departing fans during the game. But from the stands, Calderon and Mijatovic saw everything.
The sight of fans leaving early was like a public slap to their faces.
Calderon's and Mijatovic's expressions were grim, their frustration and embarrassment obvious. This wasn't just any loss, it was a humiliating collapse, and at the Bernabeu, no less.
For them, this felt like the ultimate humiliation: their first Champions League home game of the season ending in disaster.
Back on the pitch, after Napoli extended their lead to five goals, Real Madrid's fight seemed to evaporate entirely.
The players began retreating deeper and deeper into their own half, seemingly resigned to damage control.
Under the bright floodlights, most of the Real Madrid players looked utterly deflated, like wilted flowers after a frost. They trudged across the pitch, their movements lacking energy or belief. Only a few, like Raul and Ramos, continued to fight with everything they had.
But even their desperate efforts were in vain. Every run, every challenge, carried a sense of futility.
Real Madrid had lost their spirit.
This wasn't Schuster's tactical plan. He didn't order his players to defend passively. But their body language and positioning on the field told the story: they had made the decision themselves, either out of exhaustion or despair.
Miguel Porlan Noguerol known to many by his nickname, Chendo—sat silently in the Real Madrid dugout.
Chendo, once a key player in Real Madrid's golden era of the 1980s, was a club legend. As a right-back, he had helped the team win five consecutive La Liga titles. Though not as celebrated as some of his contemporaries, Chendo had built a lasting legacy.
After retiring in 1998, he transitioned into coaching and eventually joined Real Madrid's backroom staff. When Schuster took over as head coach, he promoted Chendo to the first team as an assistant.
Now, sitting in the dugout, Chendo watched the nightmare unfold around him.
He saw the fans leaving the stands in droves. He saw Napoli's relentless attacks pushing Real Madrid's defense back. And he saw his team—the players he loved, reduced to mere shadows of themselves.
Real Madrid's midfield was exhausted. Their defense was in shambles. And their morale was nonexistent.
Chendo clenched his fists, his frustration mounting.
"We need to shore up the defense. Let's make some substitutions," he urged Schuster.
Schuster turned to glance at him, his face drained of energy. Then he turned back to the pitch without saying a word.
"Come on," Chendo insisted. "We need to make a change now."
Schuster closed his eyes briefly, as though trying to block out the noise. When he opened them again, there was a look of stubborn resolve.
"No, Chendo," Schuster said firmly. "We need a goal."
Chendo's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? We're already five goals down! Right now, we need to stabilize the defense and minimize the damage."
His voice rose, but Schuster remained unmoved.
"I still think we can score," Schuster said, his voice tinged with desperation.
Without another word, Schuster called for Higuain to warm up.
His plan was to replace Van der Vaart, who had been ineffective on the left wing. Schuster believed Higuain's youthful energy and aggression could break through Napoli's defense.
Chendo could only watch in helpless frustration.
When Schuster finally made the substitution, Van der Vaart walked off the pitch, his head down. Schuster didn't even acknowledge him, letting the Dutchman go straight to the bench.
To Schuster, the problem wasn't his tactics; it was the players failing to execute them. And in his mind, Van der Vaart was the biggest culprit.
Chendo couldn't hold back anymore. "Do you even know what you're doing?" he demanded.
"I know exactly what I'm doing," Schuster replied without looking at him.
"Then why aren't you adjusting?!" Chendo's voice cracked with exasperation.
"I am adjusting," Schuster snapped, his voice growing louder. "But I need a goal!"
Chendo froze for a moment, stunned by Schuster's stubbornness.
It was then he realized: Schuster understood the situation perfectly. He knew how dire things were. But his pride wouldn't let him back down.
"I must score a goal," Schuster repeated, his tone defiant.
Chendo took a deep breath, his frustration boiling over. He stood up, left the dugout, and walked straight into the tunnel, unwilling to watch any further.
This was a tragedy, one that could have been avoided. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩~𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢~𝔫𝔢𝔱
Back on the pitch, Napoli continued their relentless assault.
Real Madrid conceded a free kick on the right side of their defensive third after Higuain fouled Lichtsteiner.
After getting up, Lichtsteiner quickly took the free kick, sending the ball down the right flank to Sanchez.
The Chilean winger attempted to spin past Marcelo but failed. He adjusted, turning back to shield the ball before passing it inside to Rakitic.
Rakitic received the ball, advanced forward, and spotted Cavani dropping deep from the penalty area. Without hesitation, Rakitic passed the ball and surged forward into space.
Cavani, surrounded by Real Madrid defenders at the top of the box, wasted no time. He played a clever, one-touch pass to his left, slipping the ball behind Heinze and into Rakitic's path.
Rakitic sprinted past Heinze, controlled the ball, and entered the penalty area unmarked. One-on-one with Casillas, he calmly struck the ball with his right foot.
The shot flew past the diving Casillas and into the net.
"GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!"
"The humiliation is complete!"
"Real Madrid has been utterly dismantled tonight!"
"Schuster's team has been beaten into submission by Napoli."
"This is a night no one expected, a historic thrashing at the Bernabeu."
The boos from the remaining fans were deafening.
By now, the stands were a third empty, as many fans had already left. Those who remained made their dissatisfaction painfully clear.
Even Florentino Perez, watching from the VIP box, looked pale. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing.
"Did Gao Shen plan for this?" he murmured.
Valdano shook his head. "Probably not. He was very cautious at the start, almost passive for the first twenty minutes."
Florentino nodded. If this was all part of Gao Shen's plan, it would be terrifyingly brilliant.
But even if it wasn't, Gao Shen's ability to turn the game around and lead Napoli to six unanswered goals was nothing short of extraordinary.
"In just two years, he's grown so much in Italy," Valdano said, his admiration evident.
Gao Shen had once again demonstrated his tactical mastery. To come to the Bernabeu and achieve such a stunning victory was a testament to his ability and vision.
"This performance has cemented his place among Europe's elite coaches," Valdano continued. "It's truly remarkable."
The only question now was whether Napoli would score again before the final whistle.
Real Madrid finally made their second substitution, replacing Robben with Javi Garcia. The move, intended to shore up their midfield, gave Valdano and Florentino a moment of relief.
At least the scoreline would remain 0-6, a tie for Real Madrid's most humiliating home defeat. That, they thought, was better than setting a new record.
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