Football singularity

Chapter 821: Chapter 821 Opening Blows

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[23-06-2021 | Allianz Arena, Munich, Germany | 20:00 CEST]

[Germany 0-0 Hungary]

The Allianz Arena had reset itself for its third act four days after Portugal. The Bavarian dusk settled over the membrane in familiar shades of red and gold, the reduced crowd of 14,500 finding its voice early. Germany didn’t need a lecture on the odds as they had spent the better half of the past three days doing exactly that.

A win and they were through, and probably group winners. A draw would also do, but a defeat, and every calculator in Munich started working overtime. Not to mention the mental burden of that, but no one in Germany wanted to see their team draw, let alone lose.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome back to the Allianz for the final match of Group F," Mowbray began as the camera panned across the swaying tricolour in the stands. "Germany versus Hungary. On paper, a routine assignment. In practice, a group of death fixtures, with nothing routine so far. Löw makes two changes tonight — Sané comes in for Havertz, Gnabry returns to lead the line, and Rakim Rex, who cameoed brilliantly against Portugal, gets his first start of the tournament."

"You can feel the anticipation, Guy," Jenas added. "The country wants to see what he can do from the first whistle, and Löw finally had to agree."

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Germany: 3-4-2-1

GK: Neuer

CB: GInter, Hummels, Rüdiger

RM: Kimmich, CM: Gündoğan, Kroos, LM: Gosens

CAM: Sané, Rex

ST: Gnabry

Manager: Joachim Löw

vs

Hungary: 5-3-2

ST: Sallai, Szalai

CM: Schafer, Nagy, Kleinheisler

LB: Fiola, CB: Szalai, Orbán, Botka, RB: Négo

GK: Gulácsi

Manager: Marco Rossi

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Hungary’s game plan showed itself in the opening minutes, as after booting the ball long from the kick-off, instead of chasing, they dropped back. Forming two banks of five, creating a tight chain defence when the ball came near. Rakim got an early introduction to just how tricky it was when he picked up the ball in the 6th minute close to the right flank.

Exchanging a one-two with Gosens, he snaked past Kleinheisler only to have the ball swept out for a throw by the waiting Négo. The throw-in was retrieved by Gündoğan, who patiently switched the play back through Rüdiger, allowing Germany to reset. For the next quarter of an hour, Germany’s probing continued to unfold as Hungary remained disciplined.

The five at the back barely moved, letting the wide players carry the ball into congestion before pulling the trigger. Rakim and Sané tried the left channel, then the right, then dropped into the middle, trying to drag the Hungarians out of position, but every avenue closed the moment the ball arrived. Around the 17th minute, Rakim collected a bounced pass from Kimmich on the halfway line, turning past Szalai with a flick behind.

He blended the dropping ball into a nimble La Croqueta, breaking in between Nagy and Kleinheisler. Their shoulders brushed, unbalancing him slightly, but he remained upright, chasing after the ball. He hooked his long right foot around the ball in an improvised turn, trying to spin away from a figure in white who charged at him from his periphery.

He managed the turn in one smooth motion, but as he raised his standing foot for the follow-through, he felt a boot hook around his ankle. Willi Orbán came flying in from behind, his momentum sending him crashing into Rakim’s calf, who instinctively leapt up. The seventeen-year-old rolled across the turf with a thud, sliding to a seated position as he raised his hands in protest.

(FWEEET!)

The fans’ boos resounded before the whistle, which came late, but still resounded sharply. Referee Sergey Karasev did not need a second glance; the yellow card was out, not even entertaining the Hungarian players’ protest. Orbán jogged back, hands raised in what looked like a half-apology to no one in particular, as Rakim rolled back onto his feet and dusted off his shorts.

Kroos was already standing over the ball, twenty-four yards out, slightly to the left of centre. The Hungarian wall lined up four thick, Gulácsi shouting instructions from behind his line, both palms slapping his gloves together. Rakim walked over to Kroos, exchanging words before also lining up in a straight line behind the ball.

"Rakim over the ball," Mowbray noted with interest. "The seventeen-year-old clearly also wants a chance at it."

"Confident lad," Jenas added. "Kroos is standing right there, and he says he can do it better, definitely not lacking in confidence."

The Hungarian keeper had positioned himself more centrally after Rakim joined Kross behind the ball. Everybody in the stadium held their breath, waiting to see the set piece unfold as the referee gave some players a talking-to. They didn’t have to wait long before the referee gave the go signal, and silence descended on the pitch.

Rakim began his run-up, eyes focused on the keeper, but stopped two steps ahead of the ball. The players in the wall, ready to jump, twitched at that, but before they could react, Kross closed in on the ball with three quick steps. His Adidas boots kissed the side of the ball and sent a low curler around the inside of the wall, aiming for the bottom right corner.

The keeper’s feet moved a beat too late, and he threw himself at the ball in desperation. His hand reached for the incoming ball, but he fell short, and luck didn’t abandon him as the ball rebounded off the post. The ball bounced back into play, and chaos ensued inside the box as players raced to stake a claim on it.

Sané was closest, arriving a stride before Botka could clear his lines. The Bayern winger pounced on the loose ball, trying to smash it home, but a Hungarian leg blocked the strike, sending it back into the melee. Gündoğan fought Nagyfro for the incoming ball, their tackles tangling, so they missed it completely.

Orbán shouldered Rüdiger out of the way and scooped the bouncing ball out of the box. Rakim raced towards its landing point just on the right edge, managing to trap it before the outrushing Schafer. He scooped it behind his left foot, moving back across the defender, nudging it past him to open the angle.

His left foot struck the ball with force, getting the shot off before Schafer and Szalai could make the stop. The strike whipped low through the crowd of bodies inside the box, skipping off the turf a yard from the goal line. Gulácsi, who had scrambled back to his feet after the initial parry, threw himself down to his right, both palms flat against the deck.

The ball ricocheted off his gloves at pace, spinning up and out toward the six-yard box, where Kimmich had arrived. The Bayern man threw his head at it, but Botka got there first, hacking it clear off the line and into the stands.

"Kimmich, so close!" Mowbray called. "Hungary is throwing bodies at everything now!"

"That’s exactly what they came for, Guy," Jenas added. "They will happily concede corners and throw-ins all night. Every clearance is a small victory."

The corner came in, whipped by Kroos toward the near post. Hummels rose above Fiola with a snarl, but his glancing header flashed across the six-yard box and behind for a goal kick. Gulácsi took his time restarting, wandering to the edge of his area, pointing at his wrist and shouting at his defenders to hold the shape.

Around the half-hour mark, Sané had a moment of individual brilliance from the right, cutting inside past Schafer with a stepover and dropping his shoulder past Fiola in the same motion. He carved a low, curling effort toward the far post that Gulácsi punched clear at full stretch, the parry falling to Gnabry twelve yards out. The Bayern man tried to guide it in first time with the outside of his boot, but Szalai, the towering centre-back he was threw his boot in the way, poking the ball to Botka.

"Gulácsi is going to be busy tonight," Mowbray observed.

Hungary had barely crossed the halfway line in the opening half-hour, but Marco Rossi’s men had come with a plan for those rare moments they got a chance. In the 34th minute, a hopeful Fiola clearance out of the box found Ádám Szalai holding up play against Hummels near the halfway line. The Hoffenheim striker used every inch of his 6’4" frame to shield the ball with his back, waiting for support.

Roland Sallai arrived at pace, and Szalai laid it off behind him with a clever backheel. The Freiburg forward turned GInter inside out with a nimble drop of the shoulder, exploded into the channel between the two centre-backs, and drove at Neuer with intent. The keeper, who had been at the edge of his box as the play developed, immediately charged out, closing him down.

"Sallai has broken through!" Mowbray’s voice climbed sharply.

Around the line to the final third the Hungarian was forced to make a shoice and shot trying to smash it past the sweeper keeper. Neuer laid himself flat, performing a makeshift star jump, making sure to keep his hands tucked at his sides. He made himself big enough to block the rocketing ball with his chest, sending it bouncing whence it came.

"MAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNUUUUUUUUEEEEEEEEELLLLLL NEUER!!!!," Jenas roared at the top of his lungs as Kross picked up the round and hacked it clear. "What a SAVE!"

"Löw’s men escape a rude awakening." Mowbray agreed as the Hungarian fans in attendance made their voices heard.

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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