Courtois has been on a rough stretch lately, letting in goals left and right, yet no one’s really raising a fuss. It’s wild how silence wraps itself around his performances like a warm cloak, just because his name doesn’t ring out like “Onana” or “Ter Stegen.” If it were them, the headlines would be relentless, the scrutiny deafening. But Courtois? He’s skating under the radar.
In the recent El Clasico, he was picking the ball out of his net four times. Four. That’s not a casual slip-up — that’s a full-on collapse on the grandest stage in Spanish football. Yet the noise was strangely muted. Flip the script, and imagine Onana conceding four against, say, Liverpool — we’d be seeing meme compilations by the hour.
Celta Vigo managed to slip two past him not long after, and still, barely a whisper from the pundits or fans. It’s like there’s this collective shrug whenever Courtois messes up, as if the mistakes don’t quite count when it’s him. Maybe it’s reputation, maybe it’s history, but something’s shielding him from the heat others get singed by.
Then came the Copa del Rey final — another three goals flying in from Barcelona. That’s not just a one-off anymore, that’s a pattern, a concerning trend. Finals are supposed to be where elite players step up, but instead, he folded like cheap origami. Again, no trending hashtags, no post-match drama. Just more silence.
Arsenal put five past him in the Champions League — five. That’s not just losing; that’s a defensive disaster movie. And yet somehow, Courtois came out of it with barely a bruise to his reputation. If that had been a younger, less “established” keeper, they’d be updating their CVs and dodging online abuse.
Add four more from Real Sociedad and another pair from Leganés, and the tally reaches 21 goals conceded over 12 matches. That’s nearly two goals a game. For a keeper of his supposed stature, that’s not just bad — it’s embarrassing. But again, the media’s turning a blind eye, as if it’s an awkward family secret no one wants to acknowledge.
This kind of bias isn’t new — we’ve seen how narrative shapes perception in football. When a keeper’s got a strong backline and their team’s cruising, they look like world-beaters. But strip away the protection, and the cracks start to show. What we’re seeing with Courtois is exactly that — a glimpse at the man behind the myth, and the myth ain’t holding up too well.
Let’s be real here — no one’s saying Courtois is trash. He’s had his golden moments. But football’s a “what have you done for me lately” game, and lately? He’s been leaking goals like a busted pipe. The truth is simple: if his name weren’t Courtois, the pitchforks would already be out.
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