Rodríguez did not run to the corner. Did not point at the bench. Walked to the centre circle with his arms open, looked once at the Palace three thousand in the south-east corner, and nodded at them. They were standing on their seats. Dennis the gateman was crying. He was sixty-eight years old.
I clapped once and sat down. My legs were shaking. I had not noticed until I sat down.
Simeone did not move.
The last half-hour was bodies. Costa came up. Vitolo on for Saúl at sixty-two. Lemar on for Koke at seventy. Atlético threw five men into our box on every set piece and we headed everything away.
Pope saved a Griezmann free kick at the near post. Sakho threw himself at three crosses in five minutes and got up from every one. Konaté with his bandaged eye took a Costa shoulder in the chest at sixty-nine and stayed up.
