Football singularity

Chapter 820: Chapter 820 A Talisman Was Born

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[22-06-2021 | Hampden Park, Glasgow, Scotland | 21:25 BST]

[Scotland 2-1 Croatia]

[65’]

Gvardiol’s header arrowed toward the bottom corner, the goal yawning in front of him from six yards out. The Scottish section drew a collective gasp, scarves halfway to faces, voices already dimming. Marshall flung himself low, both hands extended to his right, but the angle was too tight for him to reach it.

The ball struck the inside of the post with a dull thud and bounced along the line, rolling toward the far corner. McTominay had recovered, the Man United midfielder hurling himself across his own goal, sliding through with studs raised and hacking the ball clear off the line before Kramarić could pounce.

"OFF THE LINE!" Pearce roared. "McTominay! That’s a goal-saving intervention! Hampden Park is alive again!"

"He has no right to get there, Jonathan," Hoddle exclaimed, laughing in disbelief. "He recovers 10 yards in the time it takes Gvardiol to swing his head. That is desire, that is character, that is everything you need in tournament football."

The clearance was hacked into touch by Lovren, who immediately turned and gestured furiously at Gvardiol, the veteran clearly unhappy with the finish. The young defender simply lowered his head and jogged back into position, the moment already buried in his head.

[69’]

Scotland tried to settle the match down, working the ball patiently through McGregor and Armstrong in the middle, but Croatia were having none of it. Modrić now operated as a true number ten, drifting wherever he wanted, dragging McGregor out of position and forcing Hanley to step up to cover the gaps. It was a question of when, not if, and the answer came in the 71st minute.

Brozović intercepted a sloppy McGinn pass at the halfway line and immediately slid it forward to Modrić. The captain spun smoothly past Armstrong’s lunge, took two strides forward, then threaded a ball through the channel between Tierney and McTominay that no other player on the pitch would have spotted. Kramarić, as if he had been waiting for exactly this moment, peeled off McTominay’s shoulder and exploded into the space.

The Hoffenheim striker latched onto it at the edge of the box. Marshall was already off his line, trying to narrow the angle, his frame spread wide. Kramarić didn’t hesitate, coming to a sudden stop, then lifting the ball over the Scottish keeper’s outstretched arm with the inside of his right boot. The ball arced beautifully, dropping under the bar. No matter how fast Tierney was, he couldn’t recover, and the rotation section had something to cheer for.

"KRAMARIĆ!" Pearce shouted. "Within two minutes of coming on, he repays Dalić’s faith! Hampden Park is silenced!"

"That’s the difference fresh legs make, Jonathan," Hoddle observed. "Modrić splits Scotland with a pass that defies physics, and Kramarić finishes with the calm of a man who has been on the pitch for an hour."

[Scotland 2-2 Croatia — Kramarić 71’]

[74’]

Scotland kicked off and pushed forward immediately, knowing now that a draw was no longer enough. Within 90 seconds, they nearly regained the lead as the Croatian side fell asleep. Robertson surged down the left, beating Juranović with an inside-out feint and a burst to the outside, then whipped in a low cross at the near post.

Walker arrived first, ahead of Lovren, his shin connecting with the ball and redirecting it toward the bottom right corner with an awkward bounce. Livaković flung himself across his line, his right hand extending desperately, tipping the ball onto the post and away for a corner.

"LIVAKOVIĆ! WHAT A SAVE!" Pearce roared. "Walker thought he had won it, but the Croatian keeper has dragged his side level!"

The corner was claimed by Livaković under pressure from Hanley, the Croatian goalkeeper holding it for a long beat before falling to the ground. He took his time restarting the match, rolling it out to Gvardiol, trying to slow the tempo to give his side a breather.

[80’]

The match sped up with the Scots raising the tempo, both sides trading continuous blows. Croatia pushed forward in waves, Modrić pulling the strings from the centre of the park, pushing Scotland all the way back into their box. In the 80th minute, the breakthrough Scotland had desperately wanted finally came when McGinn won the ball off Brozović just inside his own half.

He immediately rolled it wide to Robertson, sending the Liverpool captain racing up the left flank. The wingback sprinted up the flank, bumping shoulders with Juranović, who considered fouling him, but before he could, the wingback struck. Robertson’s left foot whipped forward, sending the ball arcing through the air, falling behind the shoulders of Vida and Walker.

"Ohh juste behind— THOOOMAS WALKER!!!" The ball that looked to be falling behind the two players was scooped up by the side of Walker’s boot. "Fairy-like touch and over the dumbfounded Livaković"

"Twinkel toe precision—This kid can score from anywhere." A replay showed Livaković, who had been charging forward, relax slightly, only to hastily scramble back as the ball floated to the far corner. "Livaković thought he was safe, only to be rudely awoken from his dreams."

[Scotland 3-2 Croatia — Walker 80’]

Walker slid on his knees across the wet turf, both arms outstretched as the Tartan Army roared themselves hoarse, charging forward to embrace him. Robertson reached him first, joining the embrace and screaming something into his ear, and the rest of the Scottish squad piled on. Even the nearby substitutes joined the celebrations, finally taking the lead.

In the dugout, Steve Clarke allowed himself the tightest of clenched-fist celebrations before immediately turning to his assistant, calculating how to see out the remaining ten minutes plus stoppage time. Croatia, now needing two goals in ten minutes, abandoned all caution. Dalić signalled to the fourth official, pulling off Petković for Ante Rebić, seeking to inject some energy. He slotted into the left of a 4-2-4; Vlašić pushed into a more advanced central role, and the Croatian shape took a full-on attacking formation as the Scotsman put 11 men behind the ball.

Within sixty seconds of his introduction, Rebić had nearly found the equaliser after picking up the ball wide on the left. Driving at O’Donnell, he left him stranded with a feint and a shoulder drop, finding room to curl a vicious left-footed effort toward the top right corner that struck the bar before leaving the pitch.

"Croatia are throwing everything at this!" Pearce shouted.

[86’]

The wave didn’t stop as Modrić orchestrated another attack, slipping a clever ball into Rebić in the channel. The Milan winger took one touch, then whipped in a low cross across the six-yard box. McTominay slid in to intercept, but his clearance was rushed, ricocheting off Vlašić’s shin and falling kindly to Kramarić at the penalty spot.

The Hoffenheim striker did not need a second invitation, firing a clean side-footed finish into the bottom corner before Marshall could even adjust his feet. The Croatian section erupted as Kramarić picked up the ball from the net and sprinted back to the middle, calling for more. The Scottish section sat in stunned silence as Croatia jogged back, every single one of them sensing now that the dam was breaking.

"KRAMARIĆ! HIS SECOND OF THE NIGHT!" Pearce shouted. "Scotland is being dragged from the clouds back into the fire!"

"He was the right call from Dalić, Jonathan," Hoddle observed, shaking his head. "Two goals as a substitute, that’s a resume."

[Scotland 3-3 Croatia — Kramarić 86’]

[90+2’]

Scotland tried to slow it down, speed up and even find a late goal, but the Croatians seemed to tap into all their potential. They attacked relentlessly, showing a clear difference in overall quality, and in the 92nd minute, the dam broke. Gvardiol stepped up sharply on Walker as the youngster collected a lazy ball from McGregor, the tackle clean enough to win the ball but heavy enough to leave the striker on the turf.

The ball broke to Brozović, who immediately slid it forward to Modrić. The captain had one more piece of magic left in him. He dribbled past two blue shirts, scanned the field for half a second, then dinked a perfect chip over the top of Hanley into the path of Rebić, who had peeled off the back post. The Milan winger met it on the half-volley as he charged into the box, his left foot rifling the ball low and hard across Marshall’s body and into the bottom corner.

"REBIĆ!" Pearce shouted, his voice cracking. "CROATIA LEAD! WITH MINUTES TO GO! HAMPDEN IS SILENCED!"

[Scotland 3-4 Croatia — Rebić 89’]

[90+5’]

Long past the indicated 3 minutes of added time, Robertson surged down the left, whipping cross after cross into the box. McGinn tried his luck from twenty-five yards, but Livaković claimed it cleanly. A scramble in the box from a Tierney long throw ended with Walker shooting wide from a tight angle, the young striker burying his head in his hands. The final whistle came moments later, the noise of the Croatian away section drowning out everything else in the bowl.

(FWEEET! FWEEET! FWEEEEEET!)

"And that is full time at Hampden Park," Pearce announced, his voice quiet now. "Croatia four, Scotland three. The Scots are going home, but they will be remembered for this match. Tom Walker, two goals against Czechia, a goal here tonight. A new talisman has been born even in this tournament."

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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