Alexander Sørloth stuns Barcelona with last-gasp winner for Atlético Madrid | La Liga

They were 95 minutes into the battle that been built as the clash that would decide the title, the final seconds slipping away, when a man who looks for all the world like a norse warrior delivered the decisive blow. Atlético Madrid had suffered, they had resisted and, in truth, they had probably longed for that final whistle to go, and then suddenly Alexander Sørloth thumped in another late winner. In doing so he sent Atlético Madrid top the table at Christmas and their coach, staff and subs sprinting on to the pitch.

Barcelona’s fans, meanwhile, turned and headed straight for the exit, unable to believe what had just happened. What had happened was this: on a night when they had hit the bar and had more than enough chances to win it, including deep into added time, in which Jan Oblak, the goalkeeper had been the best player on the pitch, with Pedri, they had somehow been beaten. It is the third time in a row that they have lost here in La Liga and the first time they have ever fallen at the hands of a Diego Simeone-led Atlético team and it hurt.

For Atlético, meanwhile, it was a liberation, maybe even the call of destiny. The perfect night, Oblak called it, another victory secured by those sent into the fray from the bench. Eleven goals subs have scored this season, and this was the most dramatic of them all. Certainly the most significant. How fast this had shifted, how unexpectedly. How significantly too, and not just here but the season.

Life had changed for both of these sides since the end of October, and the league had changed with it. Barcelona had been through what Hansi Flick described as “shit November” but then been beaten in December too, and at home against relegation threatened Leganes. Over six games, they had collected just five of 18 possible points, a title that had looked theirs to lose after the clásico seemingly being lost in record time; Atletico, meanwhile, had won 11 in a row, six out of six in la Liga. From 10 points down, they had moved level with a game in hand, the title in play.

“It’s a key moment and we will be ready,” Flick had said and his players appeared determined to prove him right, even in the absence of Lamine Yamal. They had not won any of the four games he had missed and this had to be different. A couple of days off had been designed to “clear their minds”, he said. Here, they flew into Atlético, an intensity in everything they did that had been absent of late. Gavi, Fermín López and Raphinha led the charge, the latter swinging in repeated deliveries. Behind, Pedri was playing at a pace of his own, at once fast and slow, as if able to let bring the storm and also let it roll past him.

It felt fitting that he should open the scoring just before the half hour. Setting off from the left, he slid inside, played the ball into Gavi and kept running. Gavi’s return to him would have been a gorgeous first-time touch on the turn had he meant it but it is more likely that it was fortunate. Either way, Pedri saw if first – Pedri saw everything first – and, dashing into the area, with Marcos Llorente and Clement Lenglet trying but failing to slide the doors closed, he guided the shot beyond Oblak and into the bottom corner.

This was more like the Barcelona of the big night, the team that beat Madrid and Bayern, not that lost to Leganes and Las Palmas. Ultimately though, inefficiency cost them. Twice Conor Gallagher had had to dive in to stop Raphinha already, blocking a shot on two minutes and halting his run just before the goal. That said, Raphinha did later get a moment’s revenge with a nutmeg on Gallagher.

José María Giménez and Lenglet had been involved often too, just about holding Barcelona at the gate but not able to venture out themsleves. Robert Lewandowski headed over, Gavi headed wide and a lovely Pedri pass looked like it had released Raphinha but Lenglet was there again. And Oblak punched away Inigo Martínez’s thumping shot. While Atlético were close to releasing runners into space a couple of times, but mostly this was about resisting, until right on half-time Gallagher and Javi Galan set up for Julián Álvarez, sprinting in, to turn his shot just over from close range.

The second half brought a second wave, rather than a reaction and it was Pedri controlling the tide. He played in Fermín in the very first minute, only for Oblak to save with his foot and clipped a superb pass that set Raphinha away. The Brazilian lifted it over the keeper, but the ball came back off the bar when he really should have scored. He was not the only one.

On the touchline, Simeone was preparing his first change, which tends to be when games change, just not like this. More subs have scored for Atlético than any other team. Next time that would prove true; this time the threat alone was enough. Koke and Nahuel Molina were standing waiting to be introduced when out of nowhere Atlético drew level. Rodrigo De Paul, probably a candidate to be withdrawn, set Álvarez scurrying up the left, beyond the defence. His curled ball in was cut out by Marc Casadó, which served only to tee it up for De Paul to sidefoot it into the corner.

The score was different, but the game was still not what Simeone’s side sought, the sense of danger all the more acute since Giménez had been forced off. Barcelona should have led when Raphinha crossed to Ferran Torres who laid it to Lewandowski. Alone, barely three yards out, somehow he failed to get a decent contact on the ball. A moment later, Atlético could say the same when Álvarez set up Pablo Barrios, a wonderful chance saved by Inaki Pena, but that was an isolated moment.

A goal seemed likely: no one had scored more in the last 15 minutes than these two, 13 for Atlético, 12 for Barcelona. And if the question was who would get there first, top of the table awaiting for whoever did, it seemed likely that the answer would be Barcelona, the more determined to seek it.

Olmo worked space for a shot that bent just wide and then, with five minutes left, Raphinha was clear into space, the Olympic stadium getting to its feet. Oblak, somehow saved then, and again a moment later when Pedri got in, neatly controlling Olmo’s ball through the forest of feet. This, surely, was it. Again, though, Oblak was there, an immense figure, last line of Atlético’s resistance. On the touchline Marcus Sorg, the Barcelona assistant coach, was literally hopping up and down like Yosemite Sam, unable to fathom this.

What followed next was even more implausible, Molina suddenly away and Sørloth there to provide an epic end.