Only results could have saved him. There were no results.
En el fútbol, como en la vida, los ascensos más celebrados pueden convertirse en los descensos más dolorosos. Real Oviedo, que hace apenas seis meses vivía la euforia del regreso a Primera División, atraviesa hoy una crisis que va más allá de los resultados: es una crisis de identidad, de liderazgo y de modelo. El propietario Jesús Martínez, antes figura de esperanza para la ciudad asturiana, asume ahora el control directo nombrando a Guillermo Almada como entrenador, en un gesto que reconoce implícitamente que algo fundamental ha fallado en la estructura del club.
- Los jugadores del Oviedo necesitaron escolta policial para salir del estadio tras la derrota en Sevilla, una imagen que resume la violencia de la fractura entre el club y parte de su afición.
- La destitución de Carrión no es solo el fin de un ciclo técnico, sino la confirmación de que la apuesta del propietario por un entrenador impopular y sin experiencia en equipos recién ascendidos fue un error que él mismo avaló públicamente.
- Martínez rompe con su propio protocolo y nombra directamente a Almada —su hombre de confianza desde los tiempos del Pachuca— en la primera decisión técnica que toma sin delegar en su cuerpo deportivo.
- Más allá del banquillo, el club arrastra contradicciones estructurales graves: fichajes millonarios fuera del equipo, jugadores del filial sin oportunidades y una plantilla construida con criterios de Segunda División.
- Queda más de media temporada y una ventana de mercado en enero, pero el tiempo para actuar con coherencia y visión se estrecha a medida que el ambiente se envenena.
Hace seis meses, los jugadores del Real Oviedo salían del Tartiere como héroes tras lograr el ascenso a Primera División en el año del centenario del club. El domingo, tras una derrota en Sevilla y la destitución del entrenador Javier Carrión, esos mismos hombres necesitaron protección policial para abandonar el estadio. Las imágenes resultaron tan duras como reveladoras: algo se ha roto de forma profunda en el proyecto.
Jesús Martínez llegó a Oviedo con el crédito de haber dirigido una remontada improbable desde Segunda División. Pero la decisión de traer de vuelta a Carrión —un técnico con mal historial en Primera y sin experiencia en equipos recién ascendidos, además de impopular entre una parte significativa de la afición— se ha convertido en el punto de inflexión de todo. Sin resultados que lo sostuvieran, el ambiente se ha vuelto tóxico, el peor que se recuerda en el club desde hace años.
Ahora Martínez actúa en primera persona. Por primera vez desde que llegó a Oviedo, el propietario nombra directamente a un entrenador sin pasar por su cuerpo técnico: Guillermo Almada, con quien trabajó durante años en el Pachuca mexicano. El club negocia su salida del Valladolid. Es un gesto de control personal, pero también de reconocimiento implícito del fracaso.
Lo que la crisis de Carrión ha dejado al descubierto va más allá de una mala elección en el banquillo. El club ha invertido en jugadores que no rinden o ni siquiera están en el equipo, ha permitido fichajes de un técnico al que no iba a renovar, y no ha dado salida a jóvenes de su propia cantera. El modelo de ascenso —talento individual, inversión directa, velocidad— no está funcionando en la élite.
Almada, si llega, heredará un vestuario con tensiones internas, una afición fracturada y unas carencias estructurales que ningún entrenador puede resolver solo. Queda tiempo y hay un mercado de invierno por delante. Pero Martínez y su organización tendrán que ir más allá del próximo nombramiento y preguntarse si las bases del proyecto —su modelo de gestión, su infraestructura, las personas que lo sostienen— están realmente a la altura de Primera División.
Six months ago, Real Oviedo's players and staff walked out of the Tartiere parking garage as heroes. They had just secured promotion to Spain's top division for the club's centennial season—a moment that should have belonged entirely to joy. On Sunday, after a loss in Seville and the firing of coach Javier Carrión, those same men had to be escorted to safety by police. The images were stark and shameful, the kind that belong to a different era. No one remembers the June happiness anymore.
Owner Jesús Martínez had arrived in Oviedo as a figure of respect and affection. He had overseen an improbable three-year climb from the second division. But his decision to bring back Carrión—a coach with a poor record in the top flight and no experience stabilizing newly promoted teams—has become the hinge on which everything has turned. Worse, Carrión was deeply unpopular with a significant portion of the fanbase. Only results could have saved him. There were no results. Instead, there is now a toxic atmosphere, the kind Oviedo hasn't felt since the Alberto González era, and it has poisoned the entire project.
Martínez has moved quickly to correct course. His first instinct is to appoint Guillermo Almada, a coach he worked with extensively during his years running Pachuca in Mexico. This marks the first time the owner has directly named a manager himself, rather than approving a choice made by his sporting staff. Oviedo and Valladolid are negotiating to release Almada from his contract with the Castilian club. The owner is taking personal control now, guided only by his own judgment.
But the Carrión appointment reveals something deeper than a single bad decision. Martínez had doubts about firing Paunovic, the previous coach, so soon. He was not convinced by the Serbian manager's work on the pitch or the reports coming from the club. He wanted to wait longer. When his own staff pushed for Carrión's return, Almada was already being discussed as an alternative. The club's leadership saw clearly that Carrión was the better choice and that Paunovic's situation was untenable. Martínez approved it anyway. He defended the move publicly at a press conference that put him under fire. That approval, that validation, is where the responsibility lies.
The structural problems run deeper than coaching. Oviedo has invested heavily in individual players—Ilic cost two million euros and isn't even in the squad. Brandon Domingues holds a roster spot while academy players from the Vetusta youth system cannot get opportunities. Paunovic was allowed to sign several players despite reluctance to renew his contract, a contradiction that speaks to confused decision-making. Some of those signings—like Ovie—hadn't played in two years. The club lacks the academy infrastructure and sporting structure that other teams of similar size and history possess. It is trying to compete in the top flight with a recruitment model designed for the second division: buy the best available players and win by talent alone. That works when ascending. It does not work when trying to survive.
The club's officials are devastated. They feel they did not deserve the aggression and vitriol directed at them after Sunday's match, and they are right—no one deserves that. But the toxic environment is real, and it will require more than a new coach to repair. Almada, if the deal closes, will inherit a situation that is complicated in every dimension: a fractured fanbase, a squad with internal problems, a coaching staff that has lost credibility, and structural gaps that no single person can fix alone.
There is still time. More than half the season remains, and the January transfer window is coming. The situation is difficult but not hopeless. Yet Martínez and his organization will need to think beyond the next appointment. The method that worked in Mexico—a presidential model, heavy investment in individual talent, rapid ascent—may not be sufficient in Spain's top division. The club needs to examine whether its infrastructure, its academy, its daily operations, and the people who have remained from the Carso era are fit for purpose. Those questions can wait until the season ends. But they cannot wait much longer.
Citações Notáveis
Martínez approved the Carrión appointment despite doubts, deferring to his staff's recommendation—a decision he now recognizes as a failure in the process itself.— Analysis of owner's decision-making pattern
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why did Martínez approve the Carrión appointment if he had doubts about it?
Because his staff recommended it, and he had validated their choices before. He wasn't confident in Paunovic either, but he wanted to wait. When the pressure came to move, he deferred to the people around him. That's the pattern that broke.
And now he's making the decision himself with Almada?
Yes. He's taking personal control. It's a recognition that something in the process failed—not just the choice, but the way choices were being made.
Is Almada the right answer?
He's experienced and trusted by Martínez. But a new coach can't fix a squad with internal problems, a fractured fanbase, and confused recruitment. Almada will inherit all of that.
What went wrong with the recruitment?
They built for the second division—sign the best available talent and win. In the top flight, you need depth, academy development, strategic planning. They have none of that. A player like Ilic costs two million and doesn't play. Meanwhile, academy prospects can't get opportunities.
Is there a way back from this?
Sportively, yes. Half the season remains. But the club needs to ask harder questions about its structure, its leadership, its daily operations. Those conversations haven't started yet.
What does Martínez need to do?
Stabilize the present with Almada, then look at the infrastructure. The model that worked in Mexico might not work in Spain's top division. That's the real reckoning ahead.