Calderón feels the heat after summer of market failure

Tuesday afternoon near Spain's east coast, among the ceramics factories that churn out pots, plates, bogs and baths for an entire nation. Santi Cazorla ambles out of the dressing room at the former orange grove that is Villarreal's training ground. He leans against the barrier, babbling down the phone. The impossibly chirpy chappie whose team-mates dubbed him the Spanish Ronaldinho because he's just as nice, just as ugly and just as good chunters away, oblivious to everything. Including the camera crew.

"Treat me nicely, mate!" he says, "I'm going to be the new boy and I ain't got a fucking clue how things work there." There is a pause before he adds: "I just spoke to El Guaje and he said he might be coming too." Behind the camera a voice whispers: "El Guaje? Isn't that Villa?" Cazorla spins on his heel, conversation safely finished, and heads towards the dressing room with a cheery "thanks Iker, I'll call you tomorrow when I get there." The penny drops. Iker?! He means Iker Casillas! Guaje?! He means David Villa! There?! He means Madrid! Tomorrow?! He means, well, tomorrow! Hang on a minute: Santi Cazorla is joining Real Madrid tomorrow! And so is David Villa!

Ramón Calderón had got away with murder yet again. Not literally - he's the current Real Madrid president, not the former Atlético Madrid one - but figuratively. The man who was twice jilted at the altar only to bag Ruud van Nistelrooy on the rebound and got turned down again and again only to suddenly find Wesley Sneijder on his arm had done it again. He'd missed out on Cristiano Ronaldo but still came up smelling of roses. Never mind the Portuguese winger with the skin like a pair of Clarks, he had landed something even better: two Euro 2008 winners at just over half the price.

Only he hadn't. And he didn't. When Manchester United announced that Ronaldo was staying, Alex Ferguson claimed Madrid had been "dealing with a different animal". But there's nothing different about United; Calderón couldn't take sweets from a baby - not even a baby that doesn't like sweets. Armed with Sooty and Sweep. You'd think Calderón was carrying a copy of Watchtower under his arm the way doors get slammed in his face at every turn. Within hours of Madrid announcing to Chelsea that Robinho's replacements were in the bag, they'd wriggled away: Cazorla had announced he was staying at Villarreal and Villa had announced he was staying at Valencia. Just as Ronaldo had announced he was staying at United. Just as Cesc Fábregas had done. And Kaká. Door after door. Slam! Slam! Slam! And don't come back.

Like Michael Jackson, Calderón has lost face. Of all the players he has promised, only Arjen Robben has actually turned up - and he came a year late. He looks like a liar or an incompetent impostor. Or both. He's got the fans on his back and the coach in a strop: Schuster wanted new signings; the supporters wanted the old ones, chanting "where's Kaká?" at Robben's presentation last year and "Ronaldo! Ronaldo!" at Rafael van der Vaart's this. His continued search for a signing to salvage credibility makes him look more desperate and less credible than ever. He can't manipulate the media like his predecessor, doesn't have the guile others had, and lacks the popular legitimacy he frantically seeks - despite the success for which he deserves, but rarely gets, credit. He has lost Madrid's members' assembly and had more pañoladas (displays of disapproval) than Florentino Pérez ever faced. Forever teetering on the edge of the abyss, the second Madrid stop winning, he'll fall in.

And there's the rub. Because while Madrid beat Valencia with nine men in the Super Cup, and although they walked the league last year, this season should be a different prospect. In fact it is tempting to say that Madrid are not favourites. After all, they have made only one signing, the squad looks short, and it's hard to see last season's key players performing as well: Guti is unlikely to be as consistent, Raúl looks flat and Wesley Sneijder is injured. Arjen Robben, playing brilliantly, is likely to be the main man - but how many games will he miss?

More importantly, Madrid's opponents look strong. Barcelona have lost gym-monkey Ronaldinho, spent over €75m (£60.5m) on players they actually needed, including Dani Alves, and fluked their way to keeping Samuel Eto'o despite hawking him all over the world. Including Uzbekistan. Better still, they have a whole new culture under Pep Guardiola - even if, once again, much will depend on Leo Messi staying fit. Atlético Madrid have virtually no squad at all but their starting XI looks strong after they managed not to buy an entire team of mediocre players for once - instead buying underwear models Johnny Heitinga and Tomas Ujfalusi at the back, while Kun Aguero continues to be breathtakingly brilliant at the other end. Villarreal have added to an already impressive, settled squad with Ariel Ibagaza and Joseba Llorente. And Sevilla have lost Alves, Keita and Poulsen but not Luis Fabiano, Freddie Kanouté or Diego Capel, while sporting director Monchi has brought in five new faces and the early signs are superb.

And then, as fate-tempting tradition dictates, there is Valencia. New coach Unai Emery has already worked under two presidents and three sporting directors since taking over, the club still has two stadiums - one it can't sell and one it can't build, and that self-destruct button is still there whispering: "Go on, press me, I dare you. You know you want to." But with Juan Soler properly gone this time, the civil war should be over - and if ever there was a guarantee of success it's the departure of the man with the ruddy cheeks and tache.

"One thing's for sure, it's not going to be easy this season," Iker Casillas insisted yesterday. And if life isn't easy for Real Madrid, it sure ain't easy for Calderón. Even with Madrid winning back-to-back titles for the first time in 18 years he has been on a knife-edge. Fail on the pitch as he has failed off it and the next door slamming in his face will be the Bernabéu's.