What everyone is thinking during Saúl Ñíguez’s wondergoal

Twelve seconds later he’d dribbled through the entire Bayern team and scored the only goal of the game, a goal that will be replayed for years to come. This is the story of those 12 seconds, and the men who made them happen.

Nothing much on here.

Thiago’s few seconds of involvement here breaks down neatly into three acts, albeit the ending isn’t a particularly happy one for our protagonist. First we see Thiago, already a familiar character from previous installments of Football, establish himself and his role in this particular episode. He, today, is the Complete Midfielder, with a brief that doesn’t just involve passing and running and all that fun stuff. And here he is, heading over to Saúl, ready to do what Complete Midfielders do. He’s going to shepherd his man over to the touchline, where there is less danger.

The crisis point that switches us from act one to act two comes when Thiago fails to get close enough, then drifts slightly to the wrong side of Saúl, perhaps anticipating a movement or a pass backwards. After all, there’s nothing on forwards. Saúl takes advantage, turning through 90 degrees and heading towards the goal. At this point Thiago realises that he’s the wrong side of his man, panics and thinks: What would a Complete Midfielder do here? And the answer he comes up with is: stick a foot in.

This doesn’t work. The tackle is weak — barely more than an inconvenience — and act three begins with Saúl getting away. At this point Thiago realises that he is not the Complete Midfielder, and decides to bolt for self-preservation. Out come the arms. Up go the palms. Back drops our hero. I didn’t touch him! I didn’t touch him! Still, as his character falls apart and Saúl moves on, Thiago can at least take heart that there is still an entire defence between the ball and the goal and that nothing, surely, will come of this. There’s 80 minutes of Complete Midfieldering left in the game. Nobody’s going to have noticed anything.

Huh. Still not much on here. Hey!

Tell you what, that thing Thiago just did. Combining an ineffective tackle with hands in the air. That looked good. Let me try it.

Well, if they’re going to keep diving in like this ...

An Approximation of the Thoughts of Xabi Alonso, Moments Before He Attempted to Tackle Saul Niguez:

Oh, ‘eck.

An Approximation of the Thoughts of Xabi Alonso, Moments After He Attempted to Tackle Saul Niguez:

CUT to YOUNG SAÚL. He is standing in a garden. He is wearing a replica Atlético Madrid shirt and has an adult-sized football at his feet. A kindly OLDER MAN is talking to him.

Now remember, Saúl, the stepover is usually useless. But if you can throw a tiny, imperceptible stutter in there, and the defender is coming across you from left to right, then you might just be able to steal yourself a little space.

YOUNG SAÚL nods.

Then, if you move to your left, the defender will be fighting their own momentum and the block will be slightly askew. [He mimes an attempted block.] And then you’ve got a second, with the keeper unsighted, to curl your shot towards the far post. Got that?

YOUNG SAÚL nods.

Good lad. Off and give it a try, then.

Wait. I’ve got an idea.

Where the hell did that come from?

Just inside the post, I reckon. Looks better that way

Pass it! Pass it! Pass it! Pass it! Pass it! Pass it! Ignore me! Do that!

Why would anybody suggest that I look like a duck? I look nothing like a duck. What a cruel and hurtful thing to say. It’s ... it’s the mouth, isn’t it? Vaguely ... beaky.

There is something terribly noble (or perhaps nobly terrible) about Vidal here. He’s nowhere near the ball and he’s getting nowhere near the ball, yet he tears back from midfield and throws himself in all the same. It’s almost symbolic. If something’s going wrong here, he’s told himself, then the right place to be is sprawled on the floor, limbs everywhere, gazing up at the blankness of space. Not standing about at the edge of the box doing nothing.

Hey!

Ahahahahahahahaha! Did you see that?

Yes, Saúl. Yes I did.