The second half began, and it was like watching a different team.
The fresh legs helped, but it was more than that. The tactical instructions had finally sunk in. The press was now a coordinated, snarling unit. Eze and Bojan hunted in a pack of two, closing down angles, forcing mistakes, making the Atlético defenders look up and find the ball was already gone.
They were relentless. Every time an Atlético player received the ball, Eze was there within two seconds, his legs pumping, his eyes locked on the ball. The Atlético left-back, a young lad named Vietto who had been having a comfortable evening, suddenly looked like a man who had walked into the wrong neighbourhood.
Konaté's raw pace at the back was a revelation, sweeping up every ball that dared to go over the top with the easy, loping stride of a man who had been born to do exactly this.
