Whatever Happened to Mendieta?

Deportivo La Coruña grind their way back to where they once belonged
Their football isn't as super as in the days of Rivaldo and co, but Depor's cut-price squad is again surprising Spain's big boys


Miguel-Ángel Lotina paused, scratched his chin and gave in. "OK," he said, "note this down." There was a hush, broken only by the sound of furious typing from the back of the room. "Dani Aranzubia … Manuel Pablo …" A gentle giggle - yeah, we guessed that – and another pause. A pregnant one. A little moment of expectation. Friday afternoon at Abegondo and the Deportivo de La Coruña coach was preparing for his 337th game in the first division, against Sevilla at Riazor. For the first time ever, he seemed about to reveal his starting XI. And not just spit what former Deportivo coach John Benjamin Toshack spat when asked the same question many years before, declaring that his team would consist of "the same 11 arseholes as last week".

Then Lotina continued. "Naybet … Coloccini … Capdevila." More giggles. "Donato … Mauro … Djalminha … Fran." They were really laughing now. "And up front, Tristán and Makaay." A belly laugh and a shout went up: "Campeones, seguro." Champions, for sure. Lotina grinned and concluded. "Coach, Jabo [Irureta]." This Deportivo team wasn't his Deportivo team – and that was kind of the point. More giggles and another pause, a wistful one. You could almost hear the sigh. All round the room, minds were being cast back. To Rivaldo and Bebeto; to the all-conquering team that followed them; to wonderful victories against Milan and Manchester United; to that match with PSG, when, 3-0 down just before the hour, they won 4-3; to the side they called Super Depor.

Ah, Super Depor! Those were the days. The days when Deportivo de La Coruña were arguably the best side in Spain, ranked fourth in the world. Rescued from relegation to the Second Division B by a 94th-minute goal, rescued from disappearance by Augusto César Lendoiro, president of the local roller-hockey team, the club with just 5,000 members in a city of only 230,000 and a 500m pesetas debt had somehow won the league title in 1999-2000, six years after they really should have won it only for Miroslav Djukic to miss a penalty in the final minute of the final match. In five years they won a league title, never slipped out of the top three, reached the Champions League semis and became half the country's favourite side by beating Real Madrid 2-1 in the Copa del Rey. At the Santiago Bernabéu. On Madrid's 100th birthday.

It had all been so much fun. Deportivo's fans packing the Bernabéu's north stand singing "happy birthday to you". Djalminha doing things you've never seen a player do. Like nutting his coach. Romero taming a snake at Pamplona airport – and pulling out of the squad after the bugger bit him. Tristán shrugging "what do you want, a footballer or a monk?" when potential buyers Madrid worried about his off-field habits. And above all, the wonderful, neat, flowing football, the width and precision. Donato's roly-poly brilliance. Valerón playing in slow motion as defenders slid by like cartoon characters off a cliff. Tristán and Makaay, Pichichis both. Naybet striding out. Mauro Silva, the original Makelele and still the best. A side it was impossible to dislike. Those were the days, my friend, we thought they'd never end.

Only they did. Shockingly quickly. Shockingly comprehensively. It's only five years since La Coruña was decked out in blue and white, ready for that semi-final with Porto, the greatest moment in the club's history that became its greatest regret. And yet it already feels like it belongs to another age. When José Mourinho's (frankly horrible) side knocked Depor out, something died. The squad was getting older, tired. By the following season, 2004-05, you could feel the boredom; it was the end of an era. Deportivo finished eighth.

Worse still, there was no longer any investment. People were wondering where the money had gone. In fact, they started to wonder where it had come from in the first place; how Depor had been able to sign so many stars, becoming the first club to ever field an all-foreign team. They would never sign them again. Lendoiro admitted that Depor had made mistakes in not selling some of their big names; it was time, he said, to "get used to a different Depor". A not very good Depor. After seven years, coach Jabo Irureta departed. Under Joaquín Caparrós, they finished eighth again. Forget Super Depor, it was time for Baby Depor – the positive spin put on a worrying financial reality. It was time to buy kids. Cheap kids. Not especially good kids. They finished 13th and Caparrós left, frustrated.

Halfway through the 2007-2008 season, Valerón finally returned from two years of injuries but Depor were still in desperate trouble. The saying goes that Galicians are so inscrutable that if you see them on the stairs you don't know if they're going up or down; these gallegos were definitely going down. In week 20 they were five points from safety and over €130m in debt. Relegation and administration beckoned. For Lotina, so too did the sack. For the first time in over a decade, since he fired Toshack, Lendoiro prepared his axe. He spoke to Mané about taking over. Tellingly, in one interview in early 2008, Valerón spoke about Lotina in the past tense, as if he had already gone, describing him as "a hard-working and honest man to whom I wish all the best". Players texted asking when he would leave, not if.

But then something changed. The formation, for a start. Lotina, a coach who, despite an entertainingly dry sense of humour, has always been dismissed as a crashing dullard, turned to a five-man defence and Depor recovered. In the second half of the season, only one side conceded fewer goals, Depor picked up 11 victories and they finished ninth. Last season, they ended up seventh. Or top of what some dubbed the "other" league, behind Barcelona, Madrid, Sevilla, Atlético, Valencia, and Villarreal – clubs whose budgets dwarf the rest. But if that was impressive, this season's campaign is proving even more miraculous. Their budget cut by 10% each season, according to Lendoiro – who has done the classic capitalists' trick of suddenly bemoaning the lack of government intervention now that he needs it – Depor are operating on a "war economy". "We'll sell everything except the Hercules Tower," he says. And that's only because the city's 2,000-year-old lighthouse isn't his to sell.

Verdú left because Depor could not compete with Espanyol. Canadian captain Julián De Guzman departed because Depor couldn't pay him – and he didn't even want much. Cristián, Pablo Amo, and Barragán followed him out. They turned down over €15m from Barcelona for full-back Felipe Luis but only because they thought they'd get more and now they're kicking themselves. They only signed two players and both of those – Juca and Brayan Angulo - cost nothing. They missed out on Miguel de las Cuevas, Manuel Arana and Jordi Pablo to Sporting Gijón, Racing Santander and Málaga – hardly giants of the Spanish game. And amidst a legal battle, last season's top scorer Ángel Lafita left for Zaragoza.

And yet on Saturday night Deportivo de La Coruña moved into third with a 1-0 win over a Sevilla side that had been considered genuine title contenders after their win over Real Madrid a fortnight ago. The result left Marca gloating: "Lotina clips Sevilla's wings" as the Depor boss sang "je te plumerai". Depor are unlikely to stay in a Champions League place – in fact it's hard to avoid the feeling that it'd be a little depressing if they do – but it is the first time they've done so this far into the season since 2003-04. The first time since they were Super Depor in 2003-2004.

"We're not up there because we're a delicatessen," Lotina admitted. "The secret to our success is solidarity; we go out on to the pitch thinking about fighting for every ball; if we go out there thinking about playing we'll get beaten. We're not Super Depor." They're certainly not. Delicatessen? Depor are more like the blokes who hang around Spanish street corners on Saturday nights selling ropey jamón sandwiches. They could hardly be more different to Irureta's side. Watching them can leave you wanting to rinse your eyes. With sulphuric acid. As Marca put it: "They don't sing you ballads in the moon light." Hell, they don't even get drunk, stumble over, spill your drink and lean into you shout "awight darlin'?", drenching your ear in spit as they do so. But there's no arguing with their results.

The new slogan adopted by one Spanish television station for their coverage is "this is football!". At half-time on Saturday evening, one bewildered commentator emerged from his booth moaning: "My God, I'm lying through my teeth in there." Victory came thanks to an absolute rocket from Juan Rodríguez out of nothing in a game with few chances, in which Depor denied their opponents space and waited for their opportunity. Victory came, in short, the same way it always does. Depor have now won five times this season, four of them 1-0. Against Málaga, a Filipe rocket from miles away and out of nothing won it for them; against Villarreal, goalkeeper Dani Aranzubia kept them in it and a Juca free-kick won it; against Tenerife, a header from a corner did the trick; against Xerez they managed to score three – thanks to two set plays and an own goal. They may not be very Super any more and it may not last for very long, but Depor are back where they once belonged.