Alavés Coach Beats Flick and Mourinho: A Victory of Humility or the Start of an Illusion?

When I was kicked out of a press conference in Tokyo for asking a question about tactical cowardice, I learned that football always has a way of answering in its own manner. Today, the answer comes from Vitoria-Gasteiz, where Quique Sánchez Flores was just awarded La Liga's Best Coach for August, beating both Hansi Flick of Barcelona and José Mourinho. The world is praising this feat as a miracle, but I only see a team hiding behind the safety of numbers.

The context is clear: Alavés sit second in the table with 10 points from 4 matches, unbeaten with 3 wins and 1 draw. They trail Barcelona by just 2 points. The Basque side, accustomed to relegation battles, has suddenly become the hot topic of the media. The 5-2 win over Osasuna in round 4 further cements the narrative of a true "dark horse." Pundits are quick to label this start a "miracle," forgetting that August is just a tiny fraction of a long, grueling season.

But look closer at the process, something I have observed for 52 years. Alavés have no tactical breakthrough, no high-pressing system, no overwhelming possession. They simply capitalize well on set pieces and individual moments of brilliance. The 5-2 win over Osasuna shows efficiency, but efficiency is not sustainability. I have seen too many small teams start the season like a whirlwind and then disappear when the congested fixture list arrives. Alavés' flawless opening reflects good adaptation to La Liga's physical demands, but it is not a tactical philosophy that can be sustained.

What troubles me more is how the media is inflating this story. They call it a "special race" with Alavés viewed as title contenders, an insult to the very giants like Barcelona or Real Madrid. But let's be honest: we are talking about a club whose transfer budget is a fraction of the big boys'. Ten points in 4 matches is impressive, but look at the schedule: Getafe, Rayo Vallecano, Villarreal, and Osasuna. These are mid-table opponents, not true predators. When Alavés face Barcelona, Real Madrid, or Atlético Madrid in October, the fairy tale could end very quickly.

I could be wrong. Perhaps Sánchez Flores is building something real at Mendizorrotza, a cohesive unit that transcends individual value. The award victory over two world-class coaches suggests recognition from the professional community, not just luck. But I have lived long enough to know that football is a sport of rapid forgetfulness. The question is not how long Alavés can hold second place, but whether they dare abandon the safety of defensive counter-attacking to go further, or will they forever be an outsider that knows how to shock for one month?

When I was kicked out of the Tokyo press conference, my question remained on the table. With Alavés, my question will also remain on the pitch: will they have the courage to face the truth that the season has just begun, and that August victories mean nothing if they cannot show character in May? Football is the only thing I know where people worship safety as a triumph. But the real triumph, as Alavés is about to learn, is staying at the top when the whole world is watching.