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[20:48, 17/Nov/2020 | Spain 1 vs 0 Germany | La Cartuja Stadium, Seville]
[HT: Spain 1-0 Germany]
The German dressing room was silent and deathly so. Players sat with heads bowed, so sipping water, others staring blankly at the floor. The tactical board remained untouched, Löw’s half-ti preparations already obsolete.
Löw finally spoke, his voice asured but firm. "We’re being overrun in midfield. Toni, Ilkay, you’re too deep. Push higher. Force them backwards." He turned to the forwards. "Timo, Serge, Leroy—you’re isolated. Drop deeper to receive, then attack. We can’t play through them; we need to play around them."
Sorg added details on Spain’s positioning, and the players did their best to take it in. They knew they hadn’t played their best and could use any information that could help them turn things around. "Second half, we fight," Neuer said, standing up. "We can’t be second best to the ball like we have been so fair."
The talk continued with players making suggestions, but mainly with the coaches giving instructions on what they wanted them to do. By the ti they officially knocked on their door, they had a plan of attack. Rakim and Brand had been told to be ready to go on around the 60th minute.
~~~
[2nd Half: Spain 1 vs 0 Germany]
[46’]
*(Fweeet)*
The second half began with Germany showing more urgency. Gündogan pressed higher, his positioning more aggressive, forcing Spain’s build-up to adjust. Goretzka was combative in his duels despite being on a yellow, winning headers and tackles that drew approving shouts from the German bench.
For the opening exchanges, it actually worked. Germany looked dangerous, their shape more compact, their transitions sharper. Werner on the left flank forcing Pau Torres into a hurried clearance that sailed out for a throw-in deep in Spanish territory.
In another exchange, Sané won a corner after a mazy run that left Gayà and Rodri stumbling. The cross was lifted high towards the back of the box for the towering Werner to attack. The Chelsea striker beca airborne, smashing a powerful header goalward. Luck wasn’t on his side, though, as Unai Simón managed to deflect onto the post out for a corner.
The corner swung in by Gnabry saw Süle rising highest at the back post. His header was powerful, but a deflection of Ramos’s shoulder sent it bouncing into the air. Simón didn’t waste this chance, punching the ball out of his box, getting rid of the danger.
"That’s better from Germany!" the comntator observed. "Now they just need to execute."
[52’]
The response ca in the 52nd minute, coming in swiftly, encapsulating everything Luis Enrique had built. Rodri dropped between the centre-backs, receiving from Simón, with Werner closing him down. The Manchester City midfielder was already moving, playing a first-ti pass into Koke’s feet.
Koke turned, evading Kroos with a subtle drop of the shoulder. One touch to control, another to shift, then a vertical ball into Canales, who had found space between Germany’s midfield and defensive lines. The Betis midfielder was surrounded—Max to his left, Koch pushing up and Goretzka behind—but he sohow threaded a pass through the tiniest of gaps to Ferran Torres.
Ferran’s control was subli, cushioning the ball with the outside of his boot as he pierced into the box. While Süle lunged desperately, the defender’s montum only pushed the winger further toward the goal. Ferran shifted onto his left foot; his shot was placed rather than powered, arrowing toward the far post with snake-like precision. Neuer divove asgter it fingertips extended, reaching— but the ball nestled in the side netting.
[Spain 2-0 Germany — Ferran Torres 52’]
"Ferran Torres again!" the comntator roared. "Brilliant team goal! Spain doubles their advantage!"
Ferran sprinted toward the corner flag, teammates converging on him in celebration. On the German bench, Löw’s expression darkened. The montum they’d built in five minutes had evaporated in one passage of Spanish brilliance.
[58’]
Germany pushed forward with increasing desperation, no longer content to whittle down their opponents slowly. Kroos dropped deeper, trying to dictate from his own half. He found Gnabry with a diagonal ball that the Bayern winger controlled beautifully, tapping it back into the run of Leroy from the right. His shot was fierce but rising, sailing narrowly over the crossbar.
"Germany creating chances now," the comntator noted, "but can they convert before Spain kills this match completely?"
Löw made his move in the 60th minute. The fourth official’s board went up: Brandt and Rakim Rex on for Gündogan and Sané. Rakim jogged to the touchline, Löw gripping his shoulder. "Play on the last line. Every ti we win the ball, run. Their defence is high—exploit it. Verstanden?"
"Verstanden," Rakim confird. Understood.
He entered the pitch with Germany’s shape reorganising. Brandt slotted into the left side of midfield, allowing Kroos to push higher. Rakim took position on the right wing, with Gnabry moving centrally and Werner drifting left.
[62’]
However, it was Spain that tasted blood first. Rodri collected the ball forty yards from goal, surveying his options after a failed German counter. He picked out an audacious raking diagonal pass that bisected Germany’s defensive line, landing perfectly for Dani Olmo’s run.
The Leipzig midfielder ghosted in behind Max, his movent swift, leaving his marker no chance. Max tried to recover, his legs pumping, but Olmo’s first touch took him clear. He looked up, into the box, before swinging in a cross, bending it into the run of Morata.
Neuer, who had been advancing, pedalled after realising that he couldn’t reach the ball. Süle and Morata battled for positions, but the Spanish striker reached it first with an outstretched foot. The ball thundered towards goal, and Neuer tried to make himself big, but his outstretched boot couldn’t get it.
[Spain 3-0 Germany — Dani Olmo 62’]
"Three-nil!" the comntator exclaid. "Morata wasn’t going to miss twice!" La Cartuja Stadium erupted in celebration despite the limited attendance. Morata slid on his knees, celebrating wildly before being joined by his teammates.
[67’]
As the saying goes, the ball is round and Lady Luck is a fickle mistress. Germany won the ball deep in their own half, Koch intercepting Morata’s flick-on. The centre-back imdiately looked forward, seeing Rakim already moving, anticipating the transition. Koch’s pass was weighted perfectly, bypassing Spain’s midfield press.
Rakim chested the ball down, using his back to absorb Pau Torres, who was imdiately upon him. The young Spanish defender was aggressive, trying to push against him, but the winger’s stance remained stable. He looked outward, using his arm to manoeuvre the man before flicking the ball inwards to the run of Brandt.
Before the defender could react, he exploded past his opponent, picking up speed, and the through ball ca a second later. Brandt had sent the ball forward to the feet of Gnabry, and the German striker flicked it to the flank with his first touch. Rakim had to slightly slow down to match the drapping ball’s flight path.
Just as he thought of stretching his left leg to tap it down, he noticed a red shadow tearing up the ground like a boulder. Changing his mind midstep, he pushed off his right foot, his left foot missing the ball in the air. Sergio Ramos ca sliding through the position he had just been watching as the ball dropped toward him.
His right foot pinned the ball in the air mid-stride, dragging it past the path of Ramos’s studs before gravity even finished its job. The Spaniard’s boots carved a trench in the turf, his montum helplessly carrying him forward as the seventeen-year-old floated past him. "OH MY GOODNESS... REX!" the comntator erupted. "He’s just skipped over Sergio Ramos! That is outrageous!"
Ramos twisted, scrambling back up with a mixture of disbelief and fury. But Rakim was already gone. He accelerated down the right flank, the ball glued to his instep as Pau Torres desperately changed direction, sprinting to recover. Rakim seed to gain wings, though, spurred on by the roar echoing through La Cartuja, limited in attendance, the gap did not lessen.
Unai Simón charged out of his line as he pirouetted into the box, but Rackim rly drew him before cutting the ball across the face of the goal, continuing his run past the diving keeper. Werner was never going to miss the sitter and calmly slotted it into the empty net, finally putting the Germans on the score sheet.
[Spain 3-1 Germany — Timo Werner 67’]
The ball rippled the net, and Werner jogged back with the ball tucked under his arm, expression focused. There was no elaborate celebration — just a curt nod toward Rakim, the teenager who had single-handedly carved Spain open. Up in the gantry, the comntator’s voice shook with excitent.
"Germany needed sothing special to break Spain down... and that ca from Rakim Rex! He left Sergio Ramos on the floor — on the floor! — before putting it on a plate for Werner."
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To be continued...
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