JONATHAN WOODGATE’S previous claim to fame in the Spanish capital was outdoing David Beckham by revealing a 39-word tattoo on his back. Actions speak louder than words, however, and the battle-scarred galáctico barely got that many minutes behind him on his full Real Madrid debut before he needed all the inspirational quotes he could find. It was a first night that will never be forgotten in the Bernabéu.

It lasted 66 minutes and encompassed two yellow cards, one red and an own goal. Those who believe that Woodgate could force his way into the England reckoning in time for the World Cup finals next summer must now be wondering whether he will get another chance when Real’s regular centre halves return from injury and suspension.

The good news for Vanderlei Luxemburgo, the beleaguered Real coach, and Liverpool fans fearing an approach for Rafael Benítez, is that Real’s 3-1 win, with a header by Robinho and a brace by Raúl overturning Woodgate’s own goal, providing some breathing space. But what of Woodgate?

Even before last night’s match, Josi Marma Mela Chircoles, a sports writer with the Spanish paper, AS, said: “Unfortunately a lot of people see him as more of an exfootballer than a footballer. There are a lot of doubts about him at the moment and more people think he will fail than think he will succeed.”

For a man whose job was under threat after three successive defeats, Luxemburgo might have preferred to look to someone else as a saviour than a man who had missed 120 of his previous 193 league games. It had sounded like a case of letting a pyromaniac drive the fire engine, but Luxemburgo had merely philosophised that “life is a risk” when confirming that Woodgate, 25, would start against Athletic Bilbao after 17 months out with a thigh problem. By the end, nobody was arguing.

Woodgate had looked ahead to this moment since he tore a thigh muscle playing for Newcastle United in April 2004. His £13.4 million transfer to Spain four months later raised eyebrows, given that he was still injured at the time, and it has been a nightmare ever since.

Last night continued the trend. As Woodgate tried to play a high line, his central defensive partner, Francisco Pavón, balked. In terms of reading each other’s games, this was dyslexic stuff. And then he entered the maelstrom. With 25 minutes gone, Woodgate flung himself at Joseba Etxeberria’s angled drive. To his horror, his diving header flew into the net. The moment he had “dreamt about” was suddenly a cause of insomnia.

It got worse: a yellow card for scything down Carlos Gurpegi on the stroke of half-time, ironic cheers, and then a second yellow for a cynical blocking manoeuvre on Etxeberria.

Some might argue that it is symptomatic of his capacity for misfortune that his inspirational tattoo happens to be on his back. It could be said that it is also in keeping with the image of a player whose early days involved coining the nickname “Village” and who once said that Leeds would always be his home, even if he lived in Middlesbrough.

He says that he has grown up and that Spain has been good for him, but we must now wonder, with Real fans having notoriously little sympathy or patience, whether, when he hangs up his boots, we will remember him for two majestic seasons or one night at The Majestyk nightclub in Leeds in 2000, when his career derailed and he was cleared of causing grievous bodily harm but convicted of affray and sentenced to 100 hours’ community service.

Since then trouble, of one form or another, has followed Woodgate. Beckham, impressing on the right side of midfield, tried to encourage him as they left the pitch at the break last night. The England captain is well versed in the lows at Real. In his first season the team lost four on the trot and a disgruntled Madridista let the team know his thoughts by attending training with a placard: “For you money and whores; for us indignation and repression.” Marca, the daily paper, christened Beckham “Forrest Gump”.

However, it could scarcely have gone worse for Woodgate. He has suffered more than most players do in a career and Real were a shapeless mishmash in the first half, with 4-2-2-2 less of a formation than a stutter. “The darkest moments of our lives are not to be buried and forgotten,” Woodgate’s tattoo begins. He may beg to differ after last night.

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