Real Madrid Score 113, Valencia Edge Baskonia 93-91: What Is EuroLeague Preseason Screaming at Us?

I woke up at 3 AM Miami time to rewatch the Valencia-Baskonia tape. No roaring crowd, no screaming commentators—just the squeak of rubber soles on hardwood and the heavy breathing of men trying to prove they still deserve a roster spot. On my screen, TJ Shorts held the ball at the top of the key, drove past Kenneth Farid—his former Panathinaikos teammate—and pulled up for three. The score jumped to 89-88. I didn't know the final result yet, but I knew this feeling: two men who once fought side by side in Athens now standing on opposite sidelines in a Spanish friendly, and the way they looked at each other after the final buzzer said more than any box score ever could. Valencia won 93-91. Real Madrid crushed Malaga 113-74. And I sat here, in my Miami apartment, wondering whether we're reading the right signals through the noise of EuroLeague preseason. For anyone new to European basketball, EuroLeague preseason is nothing like the NBA. There is no Summer League with hundreds of young prospects chasing two-way contracts. In Europe, teams play friendlies as a social ritual, a way for coaching staffs to test rotations before the season officially tips off in October. These games often happen in small cities, in arenas that are less than full, and the results sometimes matter less than how teams play. But this year feels different. Real Madrid beat Malaga 113-74 within the Costa del Sol tournament, the most prestigious preseason event in southern Spain. This was their 15th title. Fifteen. That number measures a culture, not just a winning streak. What fascinates me most, as someone who's tracked basketball from Atlanta to Miami, is how Spanish clubs are approaching this preparation window. Four EuroLeague teams in one country—Real Madrid, Valencia, Baskonia, Malaga. Add Barcelona if you want to count. No other European nation matches this domestic density, not Greece with Olympiacos and Panathinaikos, not Turkey with Fenerbahçe and Anadolu Efes. The EuroLeague Super Cup tips off in a few days. Real Madrid, last season's EuroLeague champion, enters this short tournament under pressure to prove that 113 points wasn't a preseason joke. And this is where I start asking questions. Numbers are just a map; feeling is the real court. I've seen Atlanta United burn bright and fade out, I've seen Croatia reach a World Cup final when nobody believed, and I've learned that preseason is when truth and illusion intertwine until you can't separate them. Anyone who claims certainty about the meaning of these friendlies is selling you a story, not an analysis. Let's talk numbers. Malencon led Real Madrid with 19 points, Loubalu-Kabaro had 16, Cabacho 15, Sar 11, Okeeke 10, Dek 10. Six players in double figures in a single game. On paper, that signals impressive roster depth. But I've watched enough basketball to know that when a team scores 113 against an opponent that loses by 39, those numbers deserve a skeptical smile. What matters isn't how many points Real Madrid scored, but how they distributed them. Six players in double figures means the ball is moving, the system is running, and nobody is forced to carry the whole team. That's the sign of a team that has found collective identity, not a collection of excellent individuals waiting to be connected. But remember: Malaga is the host of this tournament. They lost at home, lost by 39, and allowed their opponent to score 113. A loss like that is unusual. Billy Hernangomez, younger brother of Juancho Hernangomez and a former NBA player, posted 11 points and 5 rebounds for Malaga. Kendrick Perry added 16, Cameron Hunt 15. But Malaga's scoring distribution reveals a team lacking a true spine—they leaned on three individuals while Real Madrid leaned on an entire system. I've seen this before in Atlanta. In 2026, at sixteen, I sat in the Bobby Dodd stands watching Atlanta United demolish the New York Red Bulls 3-1. Josef Martinez scored a first-half brace, and I immediately tweeted: "This all-out attack will collapse against a packed defense." Atlanta made the playoffs and lost in the first round. I was wrong. And I spent a month rewatching five of their matches to understand why. That lesson applies perfectly here. A 113-74 win doesn't tell me Real Madrid will win the title. It tells me they have a system. But how will that system be tested against an equal opponent in the EuroLeague Super Cup? That's the question I'm waiting for. Now let's talk about the far more interesting game: Valencia 93-91 Baskonia. A friendly that both teams played as if it were a final. Why? Because in EuroLeague, every preseason win over an equal opponent sends a signal about mental preparation. TJ Shorts is the central figure. An undersized American guard, formerly of Panathinaikos, now in Valencia colors. For a player of modest size, the question is always whether he can withstand EuroLeague-level defensive pressure. The way he handled the ball in this game suggests Valencia has invested in him as their primary distributor. That means Valencia is building its offense around a player many clubs would consider a gamble. Opposite him stood Kenneth Farid, also formerly of Panathinaikos, now with Baskonia. Two men from the same house, from the same era, now facing off in a different country. That coincidence is hard to dismiss. This is how EuroLeague clubs build rosters: hunting for players already proven at the European level, especially those from clubs with strong development systems like Panathinaikos. Panathinaikos is becoming a talent pipeline for other EuroLeague clubs. If the Greek club keeps producing players like Shorts and Farid—guys who succeed elsewhere—what does that say about their retention strategy? I don't have the answer. But I have an observation: in EuroLeague, player movement isn't just transfers. It's an ecosystem where clubs develop players, players succeed, and bigger clubs buy them. Panathinaikos might sit in the middle of this food chain—big enough to attract talent, not big enough to keep it when attractive offers arrive. Valencia won this game through composure in the clutch, not simply through a better roster. They had a ball-handler cold enough to make a difference. That's what preseason can reveal: who will hold the rock when the shot clock is down to seconds? For Valencia, the answer appears to be TJ Shorts. For Baskonia, the question remains open. And that could be the difference between a playoff team and one left behind. Real Madrid is different. There's no question about who takes the last shot, because their system is designed so anyone can be the finisher. Six players in double figures means more than a sign of offensive strength. It's a philosophy. But let's talk about what this article doesn't tell us. No coaching information. No description of playing style. No advanced metrics like shooting efficiency, assist rate, or defensive rating. All we have is scoring totals. This is the problem with reading preseason news. Numbers tell a story, but they don't tell the whole story. A player scoring 19 in a 39-point blowout isn't the same as a player scoring 19 in a tight game. Context is everything. I learned this tracking basketball from Vietnam to America. In Vietnam, we're drawn to big numbers—scores, wins, championships. But basketball, like immigrant life, isn't decided by big numbers. It's decided by small details: an off-ball cut, a well-timed hand check, a glance between two teammates. In the Valencia-Baskonia game, those small details were everywhere. Both teams played with high intensity, because both understood this wasn't just a friendly. This was a chance for coaching staffs to evaluate who deserves a spot in the official rotation. In Europe, there is no draft system. No two-way contracts. Every player on the roster must earn his place. That creates a different pressure than the NBA, where young talent is often protected and developed within a structured system. I've lived inside that pressure. When I arrived in America, I had to prove myself every day. Nobody handed me a free spot. And I see that reflected in how EuroLeague players fight through these seemingly meaningless friendlies. I've seen Croatia burn bright among a massive crowd, and I know this gamble is a choice of the heart. Croatia 2026 didn't have the strongest roster. They didn't have the brightest stars. But they had a system, a belief, and a midfield with Modric, Rakitic, and Brozovic—men who understood each other so well they could pass without looking. Real Madrid 2026 might be building something similar. But we won't know until they face a team capable of beating them. And that test arrives in a few days, at the EuroLeague Super Cup. That's why I tell you: don't overread these 113 points. Don't overread 93-91. Read what happens next. Now let's return briefly to Malaga. They lost by 39 at home, in their own tournament. That's a worrying sign. Billy Hernangomez posted 11 points and 5 rebounds—a solid outing but not enough to change the outcome. Kendrick Perry and Cameron Hunt scored 16 and 15—but those were individual efforts in a game already decided. Where does Malaga sit in the EuroLeague food chain? If they lose by 39 to an opponent they'll face again during the season, this could be a survival campaign. This assessment doesn't rest on one friendly. It rests on a pattern: small EuroLeague clubs increasingly struggle to compete with the big clubs because the resource gap keeps widening. But, as I said, don't rush to conclusions. I was wrong about Atlanta in 2026. I could be wrong about Malaga in 2026. That's why I rewatch games. That's why I never write without numbers. But numbers are only part of the story. When Atlanta taught me to read xG, I suddenly understood: fans don't cry with numbers, they cry with heartbeats. And the heartbeat of these preseason friendlies is the heartbeat of men fighting for their careers. Let me tell you another story. In 2026, when every league was suspended by the pandemic, I sat in my Miami dorm feeling empty. No basketball. Nothing to watch. Nothing to analyze. In that moment, I opened Twitter and wrote a long thread about the new tactical waves that would emerge after the pandemic. That thread got 40,000 likes. And it taught me one thing: preseason, like a pandemic, is a time when we must imagine the future. We can't know for certain what will happen. But we can read the signals. And what are the signals here? Real Madrid has depth. Valencia has a primary ball-handler. Baskonia is experimenting. Malaga is struggling. But these signals can change within a week. An injury. A transfer. A rotation shift. Basketball is a sport of surprises, and preseason is where anything can happen. Let me add a note on the American player trend in EuroLeague. TJ Shorts and Kendrick Perry are both American. So is Kenneth Farid. So is Cameron Hunt. This isn't coincidence. EuroLeague clubs increasingly prioritize American perimeter talent because these players bring a different style—faster, more athletic, often capable of creating individual offense that European-trained players don't possess. But it's a trade-off. American players often need time to adapt to the European style—slower pace, tighter defense, higher tactical demands. Not everyone succeeds. Those who do—as TJ Shorts appears to be doing—combine personal creativity with collective discipline. Valencia bet on Shorts. It's a bet with foundation. He played at Panathinaikos, one of Europe's top clubs. He understands EuroLeague pressure. He knows how to perform in big games. But the question remains: can he be the primary ball-handler for a team aiming for the playoffs? That's a leap in responsibility, and not everyone can make it. At Baskonia, Kenneth Farid is in a similar but different situation. He isn't yet the primary ball-handler, but he needs to prove he can be part of the system. Against Valencia, he had moments, but not enough to change the outcome. This is what I love about EuroLeague. Every player has a story. Every game has meaning. No game is meaningless. And that's why I get up at 3 AM to rewatch tape. Not because I need to know the result. Because I need to understand the story. Let's talk tactics. We don't have much information, but we can infer from scoring. Real Madrid scored 113—a massive number in European basketball, where games typically produce lower totals than the NBA. To score 113, a team needs an efficient offensive system, shooting accuracy, and the ability to convert defense into fast offense. This tells me Real Madrid is playing at a high pace. They aren't playing half-court basketball. They run, they pass, they attack. This represents a shift from traditional European basketball style. For decades, European basketball was known for slow pace, tight defense, low-scoring games. But in recent years, top clubs like Real Madrid, Barcelona, and Panathinaikos have shifted to a faster, more athletic style. Real Madrid sits at the peak of this transformation. And 113 points is the evidence. But here's the question: can they sustain this pace across the season? EuroLeague has 34 rounds plus playoffs. That's a long road, and high pace can lead to injuries and burnout. That's why roster depth matters so much. Six players in double figures means more than a sign of offensive strength. It's a survival strategy. If Real Madrid can rotate without losing quality, they're genuine title contenders. If they depend on a few individuals, they'll struggle when those individuals tire or get hurt. At Valencia, the question is similar but on a smaller scale. They have TJ Shorts, but who else? Against Baskonia, they won 93-91—a narrow win. That tells me they don't have Real Madrid's depth. They need Shorts to play well to win. That's a dangerous dependency. At Baskonia, the question is identity. They have Kenneth Farid, but he isn't yet the primary ball-handler. Who will lead this team? That question has no answer. And Malaga? They need to find confidence after a 39-point loss. That task is hard. But here's where I must admit where I could be wrong. Suppose Real Madrid actually wins the EuroLeague Super Cup. Suppose they keep dominating the season. Suppose those 113 points were a genuine signal. But there's another possibility: those 113 points came from facing a weak opponent. Malaga losing by 39 isn't necessarily because Real Madrid was too strong—it could be because Malaga is too weak. In basketball, it's easy to confuse the two. And if that's the case, what we're seeing might be Malaga's weakness more than Real Madrid's dominance. That's an important distinction, because it changes how we read the entire preseason. I've made this mistake before. In 2026, I predicted Italy would win the EURO without a true striker. I was right. But partly because of luck—Italy met the right opponents and capitalized. Had they faced tougher opponents earlier, the story might have ended differently. The lesson: in basketball, as in life, we often confuse skill with circumstance. Real Madrid may have skill. But they also got lucky meeting Malaga in this state. And Valencia? They won 93-91 over Baskonia. A two-point win in a friendly doesn't tell me much. It says the teams are even. It says both are under construction. It doesn't say Valencia will make the playoffs. So what will reveal the truth? Only time. And the EuroLeague Super Cup, where Real Madrid faces real opponents. Here's my prediction: Real Madrid wins the EuroLeague Super Cup, but not as easily as people think. They'll struggle in at least one game. And when they do, we'll understand that those 113 points weren't a declaration. They were the beginning of a process. If I'm wrong, remember this article. If I'm right, remember I told you first. In basketball, as in life, the only certainty is uncertainty. And that's why I keep watching, keep writing, keep searching for stories. I never write for the reader. I write because the game deserves to be remembered, not just watched.