Fifteen minutes had gone by, and already the match had the restless pulse of something that might swing either way.
Barcelona's opener had tilted the stadium, but Arsenal weren't shrinking, not even after the Odegaard scare.
They were probing, passing, knitting themselves into a rhythm designed to squeeze out an opening.
Ødegaard, alongside Rice, coaxed the ball across the grass with gentle touches, always demanding it back, always dictating tempo.
While Izan drifted between the lines, head swivelling as though mapping escape routes before the pressure came.
"Look at Arsenal here," Martin Tyler's voice cut through. "It's not rushed, it's not frantic. They're just trying to calm this down, to stretch Barcelona's shape, but it is easier said than done, because Barcelona are not giving them an inch of space to work with. Hansi Flick has really turned these players into tireless workhorses."
