When Facundo Campazzo left for the bench, still with nine minutes to play, everything was surprisingly resolved now. There was his exhibition, to be studied in basketball schools, well beyond their numbers, which were also extraordinary (15 points, nine assists, seven recoveries and a single loss of the ball) . The Argentine, who forged his game in the streets, which had to do under his physical inferiority, had a late afternoon at the Carpena, connected with each of his teammates, as if instead of balls he shared happiness. He developed a Valencia that not even in his worst nightmare would have expected a semifinal like Saturday. [91-68: Narration and statistics]

The extraordinary thing about Real Madrid is its inexhaustible competitive capacity. There is no laziness that comes the time of truth, where Pablo Laso's team always responds. Beyond moments of form or low passengers, it becomes eternal on the summits. This Sunday he will play his seventh consecutive Cup final, in search of the reconquest of the title, after crushing Valencia Basket with the finesse of the demon Campazzo.

Madrid left no option to reply, decided from the same initial jump, radically short-circuiting any taronja oxygen pathway. The same team that collapsed to Barcelona on Thursday was now pure impotence against the target. It is not that the forces had been left in the display of rooms, it is that this time their rival knew the lesson by heart , how things have to be raised when it comes to trying to win a title. The one of the copera road maps, where the second onslaught has to surpass that of the debut one.

The third best attack of the ACB stayed in about 20 miserable points to rest , seized Valencia as if it had a wall in front. He scored seven baskets in the first 20 minutes (just a triple), ruined in the fight by the rebound. And that Pablo Laso had opted for Trey Thompkins as an extra-community, leaving Jordan Mickey's muscle perhaps resting for the final. The same gave: until the cheered Felipe Reyes put on his boots under hoops, an unbearable bleeding. And that Madrid had not yet accompanied the success.

Jaume Ponsarnau tried to react giving priority to the offensive and back from the break he scored 11 points in just over three minutes. But it was not the solution either, because Madrid put on the boots in the give and take, increasing the advantage to too dangerous limits (52-31, min. 24) . The importance there of the Campazzo-Tavares couple was put on that stretch even more evident, stung Valencia by the immense hands of the African, which not even Dubljevic's wisdom managed to counter. And with Randolph scoring without making noise (and that which goes with obvious physical discomfort), in those corners that the giant releases.

Perhaps the only but the white staging had been the minutes without Campazzo on the track, collapses that are not new, without a doubt the most important field of work that Laso has ahead. Laprovittola hardly counts and Llull fails to play all the keys of the collective game. Because the clairvoyance of the Argentine is such that all comparisons lose. Madrid lives full when its orchestra is conducted by Facu, who gave a recital at Carpena.

Valencia did not have a loophole to recover its vital signs. And it is not the Ponsarnau group of those who bend easily, there is their excellent trajectory in the Euroleague, competing without complexes before the greats of Europe. The disadvantage was shot up to 30 points (78-48) when some already thought about the return to Valencia and others sharpened their teeth in the search for what would be their 28th Cup.

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