Chapter 806: Chapter 806 A Throwback
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[15-06-2021 | Allianz Arena, Germany | 21:20 CET]
[France 2-1 Germany]
[70’]
The Allianz pulsed with renewed energy as Germany emerged from the touchline reshuffle. The new shape looked bolder, more ambitious, and unmistakably aggressive. Their expectations were met as the home side picked up the pace following the reshuffle, attacking down the flanks.
Within ninety seconds of the changes, Sané demanded a touch on the left, took it on the half-turn, and immediately drove at the French right flank. Pavard backpedalled, his feet hastily moving to cover ground, trying to hold up his club teammate. The Bayern winger, much fresher, wasn’t about to be held up and floated past him with two sharp touches, creating separation.
Before the defender could catch up, he whipped in a cross that dinked toward the back post. Werner attacked it ferociously, spinning to the back post, leaping into the air with force, rising above Kimpembe. His head solidly made contact with the ball, but he couldn’t bring it down, sending it sailing a yard wide of the top right corner, hitting the outside netting.
"So close to an immediate impact!" Mowbray cried. "Werner, finding the space, but the header is just off target."
"He’ll be kicking himself, Guy," Jenas said. "That’s the sort of chance a striker has to bury. But you can see the threat now, Germany has options they didn’t have ten minutes ago."
[74’]
France weathered the early storm and looked to reassert itself as Pogba dropped deeper, demanding the ball from Kimpembe, before sliding a clever ball to Kanté. The small Frenchman charged up the middle, roughly bumping into Can as he tried to intercept him. Crossing into the final third, he sent the ball up to Griezmann after drawing Hummels out of position.
Griezmann, with his back to the goal, flicked the ball left before Hummels and Rüdiger could sandwich him. Ousmane Dembélé, who had been cutting in from the right flank, bumped off Klostermann, creating separation as he latched onto the ball, trying to get beyond Rüdiger, who shuffled to close the angle.
The Barcelona man feinted to shoot, nudging the ball beyond the man and whipping in a powerful curler past him. The German defender tried to lift his leg, but couldn’t do it in time, sending the ball curling viciously around Rüdiger’s planted boot, arrowing toward the bottom left corner. Neuer, between the sticks, had already started shifting his weight, reading the angle, but the dip on it was wicked, the ball skipping off the turf and rising late.
The German captain flung himself low, right glove stretched out flat against the grass, fingertips clawing at the air. The ball cracked off the heel of his palm, ricocheting upward, spinning awkwardly into the night sky. Time seemed to stutter as the ball hung suspended over the six-yard box, and the entire stadium drew the same panicked breath.
Mbappé and Kimmich could be seen barreling to the landing spot, each doing their best to get on it first. But before either of them could make their attempt, Hummeles came flying in feet first. The German veteran booted the ball so high out of the box that it momentarily got lost under the floodlights.
Not everyone was blinded, though, as by the time they had figured the ball’s landing spot a couple of yards outside the D, there he stood. Paul Pogba confidently chested the ball down, flicking the descending ball to his right to avoid Kross, who tried to get in his way. With his view still blocked by the German who was adjusting in real time, he swung his right foot, meeting the ball on the bounce.
The contact was clean, the technique a beauty as it shot a bullet goalward, leaving no one a chance to intercept as it rocketed off Pogba’s laces. Neuer attempted to scramble up, but he couldn’t reach it in time as it pierced the top netting, sending the goal rattling.
The Allianz Arena deflated in a single breath, the home crowd’s gasp swallowed whole by the French roar. Pogba swaggered away toward the corner flag, hands patting the air in a calm down gesture before doing his Iconic dab. The signature wide grin split his face as Mbappé and Dembélé sprinted to join him, going off to a dance celebration.
"A throwback from Pogba there—the old dab celebration making an appearance once again." Mowbray’s voice cut through the noise. "Off the bounce, on the half-volley, and into the roof of the net! What a strike! What a moment from the Manchester United man!"
"That’s why he gets paid the big bucks, Guy," Jenas added, half-laughing in disbelief. "Hummels clears, but he clears it to the one man on the pitch who can punish you from that distance. Neuer never had a chance."
[France 3-1 Germany — Pogba 76’]
On the touchline, Löw stood frozen, both hands behind his head, staring at the turf. Beside him, his assistants exchanged uneasy looks. The reshuffle had barely been given a chance to breathe before the world champions had struck the killing blow.
[78’]
Germany restarted with desperation to make things happen, pushing forward from the get-go. The German fans tried to lift their team, voices barely rising above the happy songs of the Parisians. But no matter how they tried to go back to where they left off, the rhythm of the past ten minutes had been broken.
Müller dropped deeper beyond the halfway line, looking for the ball, after his team stalled with passes in the middle. Deschamps’s men morphed into a compact mid-block with Kanté as the defensive focal point, breaking up every German attack before it crossed into the final third.
Tolisso, realising that Gündoğan was the attacking brain, shadowed him like DaBaby’s bodyguard, ready to smack unruly fans. The man from the town of Tarare practically dropped his whole body weight on the city man whenever he received the ball.
Despite the pressure, Sané found himself cutting in from the right, jinking past Pavard before being shepherded onto his weaker right foot by Kimpembe. Backheeling the ball to Kross, charged up the middle, losing Pogba, the midfielder came to a sudden stop, dragging the ball back. Almost the exact moment he escaped to the right with an L-Drag, Kanté came sliding past, tearing up the ground.
Not stopping there, the Real Madrid man pointed at Werner, opening up his body, but sent a dink over the shifting Kimpembe’s shoulder to the right side of the box. The six-foot-tall defender tried to turn frantically, barely catching a glimpse of white dashing into the box as Lloris charged out of his goal.
The keeper spread himself wide at the edge of his six-yard box, aiming to lunge in on teh Müller’s second touch. But the German never took a second touch, hitting the descending ball with the side of his foot, squaring it past the keeper to the far side of the goal. Sané, who had kept up with the play, was in the right place to dash in, sliding feet first, to slot the ball home, leaving Pavard once again second to react.
The net rippled, as a noise of jubilation washed over the dome, the fans unsure whether to believe what they had just seen. Not wasting time, he jumped up, fishing the ball out of the net and jogged back in celebration.
[France 3-2 Germany — Sané 79’]
"SANÉ!" Mowbray cried out. "Germany is back in it! Two minutes after Pogba’s hammer blow, and they have one back!"
"What a finish, beautiful team goal!" Jenas added. "It started from Sané and ended up with him at the end, and Guy suddenly everything is back up for grabs."
"Well, with players of the quality, both nations have. It’s safe to say it’s only over when the fat lady sings." Mowbray added gleefully as both sides reset. "Oh, looks like Löw decided to gamble one more time as Rakim Rex stands with the fourth official."
Claps could be heard coming from the stands as the fourth official raised the board, signalling a red 25 and a green 22...
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TO BE CONTINUED...
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