On the night they were going to sack him, Xabi Alonso watched his team rise against their fate and perhaps his, but fall again. He listened to the fans whistle and the final whistle, embraced the man who had been his mentor and then, defeated for the second time in four days here, disappeared straight down the Bernabéu tunnel without looking back. Real Madrid had taken the game to Manchester City, going ahead first and chasing another comeback later. But in the end, in the words of Rodrygo, whose first goal in 33 games had given them hope, “it was not enough”.

The question now is whether it will be enough to rescue the coach Rodrygo had run to embrace, a gesture of solidarity on the edge of the abyss. Late last Sunday night in one of the offices here, some in the club’s hierarchy had been determined to get rid of the coach who had presided over two wins in seven. The sentence was suspended but this was set up as something of a final judgment and, having extended that run to an eighth game, there is no guarantee Alonso will be back. Nor though is there any guarantee that he won’t.

Madrid had competed, not capitulated, and if there were moments when supporters whistled their team, there were moments when they roared them forward too. This was better, signs of life and spirit, something of the old Madrid. There was nothing to reproach, Alonso said; instead, there was much that was good. They were beaten by a scrappy goal and a disputed penalty and denied a dramatic and possibly deserved draw by the width of the crossbar. Ultimately though there was no remontada, another improbable resurrection. And so Alonso greeted Pep Guardiola and got out of there, his players left on the pitch. “This [bad moment] will pass,” he said.

On the eve of their first meeting as managers, Guardiola had been asked if he had any advice for Alonso. “Yes,” the City coach said, “que mee con la suya”: Alonso should piss with his own penis. In other words, do it your way: the decisions should be his own, not imposed by dressing room or boardroom. His team should be built on conviction, not accommodation.

It would be a leap to say that was what he did here. He had Dani Carvajal, Éder Militão, Trent Alexander-Arnold, Ferland Mendy, David Alaba, Eduardo Camavinga, Dean Huijsen absent after all, while Kylian Mbappé was left out because of a last-minute ankle injury. There wasn’t a lot more Alonso could do, but it was an unusual starting XI that broke a little from the star-system, returning Vinícius Júnior to lead man and Rodrygo to the side. Dani Ceballos was the surprise, an actual playmaker in the midfield. Endrick was introduced later. And the performance was, at times, positive.

Beyond structures and systems, Madrid’s ills have often felt a little more elementary, though. Aurélien Tchouaméni suggested it was down to the players to run and Alonso himself had implied that they might: the Champions League, he said, had a different energy that affects footballers too. That was seen immediately: they hadn’t been playing two minutes when Madrid thought they had a penalty.

The foul was just outside the area but it was a warning and an awakening, Vinícius waving at this stadium to come alive. City had played their part: advice was one thing; a team that played like they did in the opening minutes was a more generous gift. The origin of that first opportunity was Rúben Dias and Bernardo Silva both giving the ball away. Madrid had been invited into the game, the space in the middle vast, easily passed through.

By the time Madrid led on 25 minutes, it was their fifth shot; City had none. A wild, high clearance from Ceballos started it. Bernardo was weak, beaten by Álvaro Carreras, and Madrid were running again. Jude Bellingham rolled into Rodrygo who beat Gianluigi Donnarumma. He went to hug Alonso, support staged. “It’s a complicated moment for him too and I wanted to show to people that we are together with the coach,” the Brazilian said. “I wanted to show we are united and need that unity.”

In the south end, Madrid’s fans were singing “how could I not love you?” Recently, they had seen plenty of reasons but this was going rather well. Then, suddenly, they were behind via a scrambled finish from a corner, and a penalty seen by the video assistant referee. Antonio Rüdiger, celebrated as “El Loco” but a liability here, committed the foul on Erling Haaland, who scored. It was 2-1, and almost three, but for an outrageous double save from Thibaut Courtois.

The second half was different, City more convincing. Jérémy Doku’s threat felt so much more real while Madrid’s glimpses of life more fleeting. Frustration crept back in and so did some whistles when Madrid played the ball about looking for a way to attack. All season they have struggled to do so when not by stampede. Another game was seemingly gone, drifting away, but there was a late rebellion. Tchouaméni headed wide, Vinícius shot over. Endrick, forgotten all year, went on and hit the bar, left sitting on the turf tearing his hair out as the final seconds slipped away. Soon, so too was Xabi Alonso.