Sometimes, somehow, football finds a way. The opening night of the new season was one of those times. They can sell your best players, asset-strip your dreams, cut the cable on the back of your TV, and destroy your chances of winning anything ever again. They can try to empty stadiums of fans and fill newspapers with water. They can make you play when its so hot you faint or so late your star striker says he should be in bed. And actually mean sleeping. You can wake a few hours later, wearily facing the week ahead, and realise that there are three matches left, one of which is the "general interest" match which doesn't interest you at all. Then it dawns on you that this week's round of games is kind of over but won't actually be over until Monday night.

Or, in fact, Tuesday morning.

You can imagine them sitting round a big table, Muttley sniggering below, as they ask the question: "right then, gentlemen, any more brilliant suggestions as to how we screw the league this time?" You can do all that, and so can they, but still they won't entirely succeed. Sometimes, somehow, football finds a way. Not for very long – reality has a nasty habit of getting in the way – but for one brief, ecstatic, melting moment.

It would not be the start of the Spanish season if there wasn't a risk of the Spanish season not starting. And, four days after the threat of a walk-out by 13 clubs was averted, two days after a provisional agreement was reached about who would be showing it, La Liga finally got underway.

When it did, everything had changed except what really needed to be changed. There were nine different kick-off times and yet they still managed to put the two most attractive games on at the same time: Athletic Bilbao v Betis and Real Madrid v Valencia. The free-to-air game, protected by law as "general interest" had shifted to Monday night, a slot that will never be occupied by Madrid or Barcelona, and one that is filled tonight by Zaragoza and Valladolid. The new grid, for August at least, ran: 7pm, 9pm and 11pm on Saturday, Sunday and Monday. "At 11pm, I'm asleep," insisted Atlético Madrid's Radamel Falcao. It was ticking towards 1am Monday morning when the final whistle went on his side's 1-1 draw at Levante.

It is a mess, but it is back. And, amid the gloom, there was sunshine too. Something to enjoy. Hope. A little fun. Football. Proper people. Mallorca's Tomer Hemed scored two lovely goals – one on Saturday at 11.06pm and one on Sunday at 00.52am, which will make a nice quiz question one day – as they defeated Espanyol 2-1. Son Moix was empty, although curiously less empty than on the opening day last season when they kicked off at 6pm against the same opponents. David Villa returned from his broken leg and scored in his first game since Christmas in Barcelona's 5-1 win over Real Sociedad. He wore T-shirt underneath with a picture of his wife and kids that said: "impossible without you."

In Seville, there was a 2-1 win over Getafe and the comfort that some things never change and never stop. Some things called Jesús Navas.

Meanwhile Valencia, selling their best player yet again, got a 1-1 draw against Real Madrid and might even have got a winner, only for Roberto Soldado's goal to be ruled out for an offside that replays didn't catch conclusively; a moment's ilusión for them and for everyone that maybe the "other" teams can compete after all. "The Bernabéu was an oven. [League vice-president Javier] Tebas's eeny-meeny-miny-mo put Madrid at 7pm, envious of Barcelona's luck at playing in a tepid, Mediterranean 29C at 9pm." wrote AS's editor, opening a new season of conspiratorial columns as he means to go on. Because, of course, Valencia have no problems in the heat and it's not as if next week, when it will still be August, the kick-off times are inverted.

Up in Bilbao there was a far better game going on, blessed with a handful of wonderful goals. Athletic were without Fernando Llorente and Javi Martínez, both likely to leave. Graffiti appeared on the window of the club shop, wishing death upon Llorente the "bastard Spaniard" whose nationality wasn't a problem before he announced his intention to leave a week ago. They went 3-0 down to Betis. The man who led them: Beñat Exteberría, a former Athletic youth teamer and just about the only available Basque player good enough to be worth signing in replacement for Martínez. Athletic then pulled it back to 3-3 with 15 minutes left, led by a wonderful first scored by Óscar de Marcos, only for Betis to win 5-3.

It was mad and it was marvellous; it was also unnoticed; they were watching Real. But the football was fighting back. And nowhere more than in the opening game of the new season. Celta Vigo were back in the first division after five years away. Their opponents were Málaga. And no teams' fans have had the summer Málaga's have. In midweek, thousands of them queued overnight for tickets for their first-ever Champions League campaign. But instead of joy, it looked worryingly like a campaign tinged with a little regret. Last summer, they spent almost €60m on players; this summer, they have spent none. Instead, they have sold almost €50m-worth for less than €30m, the dream silently deconstructed.

The Qatari owner Sheikh Abdullah Bin Nasser al-Thani had disappeared; no more money, no more investment, and not a word. His interest, gone. Something was not right; in football terms, at least, it just didn't make sense. You spend millions on building a team to reach the Champions League and when you do, you throw in the towel. Maybe that was the point: maybe, it was never about the game. Maybe it was all an illusion, a sleight of hand. Good while it lasted but quickly gone. Players denounced the club for not paying wages. Villarreal, Osasuna and River Plate too complained that they were owed money. So did the Spanish taxman. And, since the spring, the state had finally turned tough.

Still, there was silence. Institutional director Fernando Hierro had walked, unhappy with what he was seeing. There was a power vacuum, inertia. And when at last there was movement, it wasn't what they hoped for. Al-Thani's representative Moayad Shatat turned up, Málaga's very own Mr Wolf. But rather than slapping down the cash and shutting mouths, they did the opposite. First they tried to sell the club; then, with the clock ticking, the asset stripping began. Santi Cazorla left for a fee so ridiculously low that even the manager had forewarned that it would amount to "giving him away", so did Joris Mathijsen, and Solomon Rondón.

With Ruud van Nistelrooy's retirement, that meant that all those who had made formal complaints (and then, on assurances about their future, withdrew them) were gone. They may still not be the only ones. The sporting director was offered a severance package and there were even discussions with the manager, Manuel Pellegrini, about rescinding his contract or taking a pay cut. Jérémy Toulalan's agent admitted that he might leave too. On top of that, Julio Baptista is still not fit. All those players: gone. All that hope too.

And so it was that on Saturday night, with the score at 0-0 and just before the hour, Pellegrini sent on Fabrice Olinga. A 16-year-old Cameroonian kid who arrived in Mallorca aged 12 thanks to the Samuel Eto'o Foundation and joined Málaga last season; a timid-looking kid who lives in a small room at the club's youth team residency and who had not even played a minute in Málaga's B team down in tercera - not so much Spain's third division as it's 20th. A kid who insists: "mistakes chase me, but I am faster than them."

Within a few minutes, he had fluffed an easy chance. Then, with six minutes to go, it happened: he stepped past the defender and curled is shot against the post. Diego Buonanotte collected the rebound, cut back inside and crossed. The debutant reached it and kneed the ball over the line. He disappeared into his team-mates' arms, a look of delighted incredulity on his face. All the pessimism, the cynicism, the clouds: gone. And in that instant, at 16 years and 93 days, Fabrice Olinga became the youngest goalscorer ever in La Liga. Football found a way.

Results: Celta 0-1 Málaga, Sevilla 2 - 1 Getafe, Mallorca 2-1 Espanyol, Madrid 1-1 Valencia, Athletic 3-5 Betis, Barcelona 5-1 Real Sociedad, Levante 1-1 Atlético. Tonight: Deportivo-Osasuna, Rayo-Granada, Zaragoza-Valladolid.