If God was not for Madrid in the first 45 minutes of Wembley, he hid it like never before, and God is not one of those who knows how to hide: there is always a moment when he shows his paw, it must be hard to be God and not be able to say it. So Borussia lit up its fans until they lit up London, and in the Mayfair neighborhood a group of Germans showed up on Saturday morning, with one wearing a Cádiz shirt: “And you?”, they asked, “I’m from Cádiz and Borussia, like everyone there,” he responded with a Chiclana accent (they play in another league and you have to shut up and applaud). After setting London on fire, the Germans prepared to plant Wembley with bonfires until they left Madrid more stunned than ever in a Champions League final: the defense distracted, the midfield complaining, the Germans pecked Madrid’s goal like woodpeckers . A 2-0 would have been logical, a 3-0 no surprise. The 0-0, a cold death sentence for Borussia.
0
Gregor Kobel, Julian Ryerson, Hummels, Ian Maatsen, Nico Schlotterbeck, Brandt (Sébastian Haller, min. 80), M. Sabitzer, Emre Can (Malen, min. 80), Jadon Sancho (Jamie Bynoe-Gittens, min. 86) , Karim Adeyemi (Marco Reus, min. 72) and Füllkrug
2
Courtois, Nacho, Dani Carvajal, Rüdiger, Ferland Mendy, Camavinga, Federico Valverde, Kroos (Modric, min. 85), Jude Bellingham (Joselu, min. 85), Rodrygo (Eder Militao, min. 90) and Vinicius Junior (Lucas Vázquez, min. 93)
Goals 0-1 min. 73: Dani Carvajal. 0-2 min. 82: Vinicius Junior.
Referee Slavko Vincic
Yellow cards Vinicius Junior (min. 34), Nico Schlotterbeck (min. 40), M. Sabitzer (min. 43) and Hummels (min. 78)
Imagine that German locker room at half-time: Champions League final against Madrid, missing so many chances and having another 45 minutes left to put up with an awake, angry and grateful giant. “Carvajal’s header from a corner against some Germans. We’re already sweating everything,” says a fan after the first one. The yellow began to turn white, and the white was scarier: he needs less, a couple of possessions, to wreak chaos and misfortune on the rival; He doesn’t need anything for a goal, a short defender (what a Champions League, Daniel) can score it for you surrounded by German towers; Madrid in front of you in a Champions League final (14 out of 17, the last eight won) is an implacable and cruel disease: it consumes what you eat, you think you are nourished and what you achieve is to die more slowly.
What happened at Wembley is that, in the first half and on their clearest occasions, the formidable Borussia team did not know what to cut, they did not know how to calm their nerves, and in the second half Madrid had a goal without any chance, and in The first time he scored the second. The whys don’t matter because this team is no longer in those. He shows up, sees the landscape and applies a wild hammer when the games need it: goal and goal, title. Two Champions Leagues in transitional seasons. Cristiano, the best scorer in the history of Madrid, is leaving, Ramos is leaving, the founder of a monumental cycle, all God is leaving, but they don’t take the shield off the shirt, and someone has convinced these people that there is something , even if there is not: sometimes it is enough to believe.
At Carvajal’s wedding a couple of summers ago, several players gathered in the shade of a tree to chat with some managers. There was also Joselu, Carvajal’s brother-in-law and then out of Madrid. It had been the season of impossible comebacks. “But what’s happening, is there something unique to Madrid, what do you feel on the field?” asked a manager. The boyfriend spoke: “I don’t know if there is something or not, but the rivals think there is, that’s the important thing.” No, getting to the Borussia locker room at half-time didn’t have to be easy: they shot at the king, and missed. The king gobbled them up. He didn’t need to play: he collapsed, let himself fall, on his rival. He targeted and killed. A German summed it up like this at half-time: “But how have we left these psychopaths alive.” And Dani Carvajal also answered that question.
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