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...
Flags were being raised and cameras were being positioned, as the world was watching.
Then the day of the World Cup final finally arrived.
Moscow seemed to wake differently that morning.
There was still the same pale summer light coming through the windows of the England hotel, the same quiet corridors, the same carefully prepared breakfast, the same familiar faces moving through the building.
But everything felt heavier.
Not unpleasant.
Just significant.
Every player knew exactly what day it was.
The World Cup final.
England versus Croatia.
Luzhniki Stadium.
One match.
One trophy.
Francesco woke early.
For several seconds he simply lay still, staring at the ceiling.
There was no need for an alarm.
He was already awake.
His mind was moving through everything they had done to reach this point.
Japan.
Brazil.
France.
The long flights.
The training sessions.
The recovery rooms.
The laughter.
The arguments.
The celebrations.
The moments when the pressure had felt unbearable.
And now there was nowhere else to go.
He finally sat up.
Today, none of that could be changed.
Today, it was simply about playing football.
Downstairs, the rest of the squad gradually gathered.
Kane was already eating.
Henderson sat nearby with a cup of coffee.
Lingard was unusually quiet for almost thirty seconds before finally ruining his own silence.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do today."
Rooney looked over.
"Eat breakfast?"
"I know that."
"Then you've solved the problem."
Lingard laughed.
Sterling shook his head.
"You've been awake five minutes."
"That's enough time to panic."
Francesco smiled as he walked over.
"Don't panic."
Lingard looked at him.
"Easy for you to say."
"No, it isn't."
That made Lingard pause.
Francesco pulled out a chair.
"I've been awake since five."
Henderson looked at him.
"Five?"
"Something like that."
Kane laughed.
"Good. So none of us are sleeping."
The conversation continued for a few minutes, but eventually the jokes became quieter.
Everyone understood.
The final was real.
The team transport eventually arrived.
Players climbed aboard carrying their bags, headphones, jackets and the last pieces of normality they could carry with them.
Francesco sat beside Kane.
Henderson sat across the aisle.
Outside the windows, Moscow was already alive.
The closer they came to Luzhniki Stadium, the more crowded the streets became.
Supporters had filled the roads surrounding the venue.
England flags were everywhere.
White shirts.
Red crosses.
Faces painted with the colours of the Three Lions.
On the opposite side of the streets, Croatian supporters filled the spaces with red-and-white chequered shirts and flags.
Songs echoed between buildings.
Drums sounded.
People shouted.
Cars sounded their horns.
Some supporters had climbed onto barriers just to get a better view of the buses.
The atmosphere seemed almost impossible to describe.
Lingard pressed his forehead lightly against the glass.
"Look at that."
Sterling leaned across.
"That's insane."
Francesco watched quietly.
There were thousands of people outside.
Maybe tens of thousands.
Some were singing.
Some were filming the bus.
Some were simply standing there with flags raised above their heads.
And for every England supporter there seemed to be a Croatian supporter ready to answer.
The rivalry wasn't hostile.
It was passionate.
Both groups understood what was at stake.
The bus continued through the crowds.
Kane looked toward Francesco.
"This is different."
Francesco nodded.
"Very."
Eventually the stadium appeared.
Luzhniki.
The enormous bowl of the stadium stood above the surrounding streets, already surrounded by supporters and security.
The transport entered the restricted area.
The noise faded slightly behind the barriers.
The players stepped off.
There were cameras everywhere.
Staff guided them toward the entrance.
Nobody stopped for long.
They had a schedule.
They had a routine.
And routine mattered.
Inside the England dressing room, the atmosphere immediately became more familiar.
Bags were placed beside seats.
Boots were taken out.
Training tops were pulled on.
Players changed into their training kits.
Some spoke quietly.
Others sat with headphones on.
Francesco placed his boots down and looked around the room.
The England crest was visible everywhere.
The shirts were hanging neatly.
His number was waiting for him.
The captain's armband was nearby.
He looked at it for a moment.
Then he picked it up.
He didn't put it on yet.
There was still work to do.
The squad eventually made its way toward the pitch.
The moment the doors opened, the sound hit them.
Luzhniki was enormous.
The stands were filling rapidly.
England supporters were already making themselves heard.
Croatian supporters responded.
The noise rolled around the stadium.
Francesco stepped onto the pitch beside Kane.
He looked toward the stands.
For a moment, he simply took it in.
Then the warm-up began.
Stretching first.
Mobility exercises.
Light jogging.
Short accelerations.
The players moved through the familiar sequence they had performed throughout the tournament.
There was comfort in the repetition.
The final could feel enormous.
But a hamstring still needed stretching the same way.
A football still had to be controlled.
A pass still had to be accurate.
Francesco worked alongside Kane.
Henderson moved through the drills nearby.
Alli and Lingard joked briefly before one of the coaches shouted for them to concentrate.
The laughter disappeared.
Then came passing.
Short combinations.
One touch.
Two touch.
Movement after the pass.
Francesco received from Henderson and immediately returned it.
Kane checked toward him.
Francesco played the ball into his feet.
Kane laid it off.
Francesco accelerated beyond him.
The ball came back.
He controlled it.
Played again.
Move.
Receive.
Repeat.
It was almost exactly the same pattern they had practised hundreds of times.
Except this time the stadium around them was filled with more than eighty thousand people.
Then came shooting.
Francesco struck a series of efforts toward the goal.
Kane followed.
Alli took his turn.
Lingard did the same.
At the other end, Pickford was fully occupied.
He threw himself from side to side.
Low saves.
High saves.
One-on-ones.
Crosses.
He shouted throughout.
"Again!"
"Come on!"
"Next!"
The intensity gradually increased.
The players weren't exhausting themselves.
They were preparing their bodies and minds.
Every movement became sharper.
Every pass became cleaner.
Every sprint became more purposeful.
Then the tactical movements began.
The midfield shifted.
The forwards rotated.
The full-backs advanced.
Francesco moved between Kane and the midfield.
Henderson directed traffic.
"Stay connected!"
The defenders responded.
Trippier moved forward.
Rose adjusted on the opposite side.
Stones and Maguire held the centre.
England's shape repeatedly formed and broke apart before reforming.
The coaches watched carefully.
Nothing was left to chance.
Eventually the warm-up came to an end.
The players stood together near the halfway line.
They looked toward the supporters.
The England fans immediately raised their voices.
The response was enormous.
Francesco applauded.
Kane joined him.
Henderson clapped above his head.
The players turned slowly, acknowledging every section of the stadium.
Then they disappeared back down the tunnel.
Inside, the dressing room became quiet again.
The players showered quickly.
Nobody lingered.
There was no need.
The final was approaching.
One by one, the training kits disappeared.
The official England match kits came out.
Shirts.
Shorts.
Socks.
Boots.
Everything was prepared.
Francesco pulled his shirt over his head.
He looked down at the Three Lions on his chest.
Then he looked toward Kane.
Kane was tying his boots.
Henderson was already ready.
Southgate entered.
The room gradually fell silent.
The manager stood in front of the squad.
"The starting eleven remains unchanged."
Nobody looked surprised.
It was the team that had carried England through the tournament.
Pickford would start in goal.
Trippier, Stones, Maguire and Rose would form the defensive line.
Henderson would anchor the midfield alongside the established setup.
Kane, Francesco, Alli, Lingard and the other familiar faces would take their places.
Southgate looked around the room.
"You know your jobs."
The players nodded.
"You know each other."
Another pause.
"And you know what you're capable of."
He turned toward the tactical board.
"Now let's talk about Croatia."
The Croatian lineup appeared.
Southgate pointed toward the goalkeeper.
"Subašić."
Then across the back four.
"Strinić. Vida. Lovren. Vrsaljko."
His finger moved forward.
"Brozović sits in front of them."
Then the midfield.
"Perišić. Rakitić. Modrić. Rebić."
And finally the striker.
"Mandžukić."
The room was silent.
"They'll line up in a 4-1-4-1."
Southgate looked directly at the players.
"They have experience."
He paused.
"They have technical quality."
Another pause.
"They have patience."
His voice became firmer.
"And they can punish even the smallest mistake."
Nobody moved.
"They've been through difficult matches. They've had to come from behind. They've had to manage pressure. They've had to play extra time. They know how to survive."
Southgate pointed toward Modrić.
"Don't give him unnecessary time."
Then toward Rakitić.
"Same."
He looked toward Henderson.
"They'll want control."
Henderson nodded.
"We don't let them have it easily."
Southgate looked toward Francesco and Kane.
"And when we win the ball, we attack with purpose."
Francesco nodded.
The instructions were clear.
But nobody needed a speech lasting an hour.
They knew.
Outside, the stadium was becoming louder.
Then the sound of music began.
The closing ceremony of the 2018 World Cup had started.
Inside the dressing room, players could hear distant echoes from the stadium.
On the pitch, the ceremony unfolded.
Will Smith appeared alongside Nicky Jam and Era Istrefi.
Their live performance of "Live It Up" filled Luzhniki.
The energy of the stadium changed immediately.
Supporters danced.
Flags moved through the stands.
The atmosphere became a celebration before the serious business began.
The performance blended naturally with other elements of the ceremony.
Operatic arias.
Traditional Russian folk influences.
Music representing the global nature of the tournament while still acknowledging the culture of the host nation.
The World Cup had brought the world to Russia.
Now the final celebration reflected that.
Then came a surprise.
Ronaldinho appeared during the musical performance.
The football legend carried a traditional Russian instrument, drawing an enormous reaction from the crowd.
The players inside the tunnel heard the roar.
Lingard looked toward the ceiling.
"What was that?"
Rooney laughed.
"Ronaldinho."
Lingard grinned.
"Of course."
The ceremony continued.
Music.
Performances.
Tributes.
The atmosphere gradually moved away from celebration and toward tradition.
National anthems would soon follow.
The final countdown had begun.
Eventually, the closing ceremony came to an end.
The music faded.
The lights shifted.
And suddenly, there was nothing left to distract anyone.
Football had returned.
The teams were called toward the tunnel.
Francesco stood at the front of England's line.
The captain's armband was now firmly around his arm.
Kane stood behind him.
Henderson was nearby.
Across from them stood Croatia.
Modrić at the front.
Mandžukić.
Rakitić.
Perišić.
Vida.
Lovren.
Subašić.
Every face looked focused.
The child mascots stepped forward.
Then the walkout began.
The doors opened.
The players emerged into the stadium.
The noise was enormous.
England supporters immediately raised their voices.
Flags waved.
Songs erupted.
Croatian supporters answered from the other side.
Red-and-white chequered flags moved through the stands.
England's white shirts filled another section.
The sound seemed to collide above the pitch.
Francesco walked forward.
The FIFA World Cup trophy stood nearby.
For a second, his eyes went toward it.
There it was.
The trophy everyone had dreamed about.
The trophy that had been the destination from the first day of the tournament.
He looked away.
There was still a match to play.
The teams first formed their traditional single-file lines.
Then they moved into shoulder-to-shoulder positions.
The national anthems began.
England's anthem played first.
Francesco stood proudly at the front of his teammates.
The captain's armband was clearly visible.
Some England players sang every word.
Others stood silently, eyes fixed ahead.
Francesco sang.
His voice wasn't the loudest.
It didn't need to be.
He could hear the supporters.
He could hear his teammates.
He could feel the tension in the stadium.
When the anthem ended, the noise returned.
Then Croatia's anthem began.
Modrić stood at the front of his team.
His expression remained calm.
Rakitić sang.
Perišić stood proudly.
Mandžukić remained focused.
The Croatian players looked every bit as determined as England.
The anthem ended.
The players turned toward their opponents.
The handshakes began.
Francesco greeted Modrić first.
A respectful handshake.
A few words exchanged too quietly for anyone else to hear.
Then Subašić.
Vida.
Lovren.
Rakitić.
Perišić.
Mandžukić.
And the rest of the Croatian players.
There was no hostility.
Only respect.
They had earned their place here too.
Then came the official photographs.
England's starting eleven gathered.
Francesco stood prominently among them, the captain's armband displayed clearly.
Kane stood beside him.
Henderson.
Alli.
Lingard.
Trippier.
Walker.
Stones.
Maguire.
Rose.
Pickford.
The cameras flashed repeatedly.
Photographers called for attention from different directions.
"Look here!"
"Captain!"
"Eyes this way!"
Another series of flashes.
Then another.
Eventually, the photographs were completed.
The players separated.
The moment everyone had been waiting for was now seconds away.
Francesco and Luka Modrić approached the referee.
The official looked between the two captains.
"Call?"
Francesco answered calmly.
"Right."
The coin rose into the air beneath the stadium lights.
For a fraction of a second, nobody could tell where it would fall.
It came down.
The referee checked.
England had won the toss.
Francesco chose England's preferred end.
Croatia would take the opening kick-off.
He shook Modrić's hand.
"Good luck."
"You too."
Then Francesco returned to his teammates.
He gathered them close.
Kane stepped beside him.
Henderson moved in.
The rest of the England players formed a tight circle.
The stadium noise seemed distant for a moment.
Francesco looked around.
"Stay together."
Every player listened.
"Trust yourselves."
He paused.
"We've worked for this."
Kane nodded.
"Stay disciplined."
Henderson added his voice.
"Keep talking. All game."
Francesco looked at them one final time.
"Believe in it."
Hands touched shoulders.
Heads nodded.
Then the circle broke.
The players moved into position.
Pickford walked toward his goal.
Trippier took his place.
Stones and Maguire settled in centrally.
Rose moved toward the left.
Henderson positioned himself in midfield.
Kane stood forward.
Francesco moved into his attacking position.
Across the halfway line, Croatia prepared.
Modrić stood over the ball alongside Mandžukić.
The referee checked his watch.
The stadium fell into an almost unnatural anticipation.
Then the whistle sounded.
The World Cup final had begun.
Croatia took the opening kick-off.
Mandžukić played the ball backward.
Modrić immediately received.
Henderson stepped forward.
The Croatian captain passed sideways to Rakitić.
England pressed.
Rakitić returned the ball.
Modrić looked up.
Perišić moved wide.
Rebić did the same on the opposite side.
England's defensive shape adjusted.
Trippier tracked the movement.
Rose did likewise.
The opening exchanges were fierce.
Neither team wanted to surrender territory.
Croatia tried to establish control through Modrić and Rakitić.
England refused to let them settle.
Henderson kept moving.
Alli stepped forward.
Lingard closed passing lanes.
Francesco hovered between Croatia's midfield and defence.
He wasn't standing still.
He drifted left.
Then central.
Then right.
He was searching.
Looking for the moment when one Croatian defender stepped too far forward.
Looking for the gap.
Croatia moved the ball patiently.
Modrić received again.
He tried to turn.
Henderson was there.
The Croatian midfielder played to Rakitić.
Rakitić attempted to find Perišić.
Trippier intercepted the passing lane.
The ball went out.
The England supporters roared.
Trippier quickly threw it forward.
Francesco moved toward it.
Vida stepped across.
Francesco turned away from him and played the ball back toward Henderson.
England kept possession.
The first few minutes established exactly what Southgate had warned them about.
Croatia were technically excellent.
But England were aggressive.
Nobody wanted to sit back.
Neither side was willing to surrender the initiative.
Mandžukić battled Stones.
Then Maguire.
Perišić repeatedly looked to attack the space behind Trippier.
Rebić tested Rose.
Modrić and Rakitić continued searching for passing lanes.
The match moved quickly.
Seven minutes.
Then eight.
Then nine.
England began finding more of the ball.
Henderson circulated possession.
Alli dropped deeper.
Lingard moved inside.
Kane came toward the midfield.
Francesco immediately recognized the movement.
He went beyond Kane.
Kane received from Henderson.
One Croatian midfielder followed him.
Francesco continued his run.
Kane turned.
The pass didn't come.
Instead he played back toward Alli.
England reset.
But the movement had achieved something.
Croatia's defensive line had been forced to think.
That was enough.
England began controlling possession more consistently.
The ball moved from Henderson to Alli.
Alli to Lingard.
Lingard back to Henderson.
Then toward Kane.
Francesco checked toward the ball.
Kane touched it into him.
Francesco returned it first time.
Trippier advanced down the right.
The Croatian defence shifted.
Trippier crossed the halfway line before playing back inside.
Henderson collected.
He looked up.
"Again!"
England circulated.
The supporters responded with every pass.
Croatia were still dangerous.
Modrić suddenly found space.
He turned and carried the ball forward.
Henderson chased.
Rakitić moved ahead.
Modrić played toward Perišić.
Trippier stepped across.
Perišić couldn't get past him.
The ball returned toward Modrić.
Henderson challenged.
Modrić escaped.
The stadium gasped.
But Stones stepped forward and closed the space.
Modrić was forced backward.
The Croatian attack slowed.
England recovered their shape.
Francesco turned toward Henderson.
"Good."
Henderson nodded.
"Keep going."
The final was already becoming a battle of patience.
Croatia wanted England stretched.
England wanted Croatia's defensive structure unsettled.
The midfield was the centre of everything.
Modrić moved constantly.
Rakitić looked for angles.
Brozović sat behind them, protecting the defence.
Henderson remained disciplined.
Alli and Lingard moved around him.
Kane drifted.
Francesco hunted for space.
Then England won the ball again.
Henderson received under pressure.
He turned.
A quick pass into Alli.
Alli touched it toward Kane.
Kane immediately laid it off.
Francesco accelerated.
For the first time, the Croatian defence opened slightly.
Francesco ran into the space.
Vida moved across.
Lovren followed.
Francesco slowed.
Kane had already stopped.
The move ended before the final pass could arrive.
But the message was clear.
England could hurt them.
Francesco jogged back into position.
He looked at Kane.
Kane nodded.
They understood.
The pattern was beginning.
Croatia would have their possession.
England would have their moments.
And when those moments came, they would have to be ready.
The clock continued to move.
The World Cup final had only just begun.
But already, every player understood that there would be no easy minute.
No free space.
No second chance.
One mistake could change everything.
Francesco looked toward the Croatian goal.
Then back toward the halfway line.
The trophy was somewhere behind them.
The crowd was roaring around them.
Moscow was watching.
England was watching.
Croatia was watching.
And now, finally, after an entire tournament of preparation, anticipation and pressure, the only thing left was football.
England had possession again.
Henderson received.
Kane dropped.
Francesco moved beyond him.
Alli drifted inside.
Lingard found the opposite channel.
Trippier began advancing.
Rose did the same on the left.
The Croatian defenders adjusted.
Modrić shouted.
Brozović pointed.
Vida moved toward Francesco.
Francesco stopped his run.
Then started again.
Kane looked up.
For one brief moment, their eyes met.
They both knew what the other was thinking.
And England moved forward.
Then the ball travelled quickly.
Henderson found Alli.
Alli touched it into Kane.
Kane turned under pressure and immediately looked ahead.
Francesco was there.
He had drifted into the space just outside the Croatian penalty area.
Vida hesitated.
Lovren looked toward him.
Brozović started moving across.
That tiny hesitation was enough.
Kane's pass found Francesco.
He took the ball with his first touch.
One defender came toward him.
Francesco shifted his body.
Another half-step.
A tiny opening appeared.
He didn't need more.
Francesco struck.
The shot left his foot cleanly, travelling through the crowded space in front of him with frightening precision.
Subašić reacted.
He threw himself toward it.
But the ball was already beyond him.
It flew into the net.
For a heartbeat, Francesco didn't move.
He simply stood there.
His eyes followed the ball as it settled against the netting.
Then he heard it.
The roar.
England had scored.
"GOAL!"
The England end exploded.
Flags were thrown into the air.
People jumped over seats.
Scarves were waved above heads.
The sound seemed to shake the stadium.
Francesco's face changed instantly.
The disbelief disappeared.
A huge smile broke across his face.
He turned and sprinted toward the corner.
His arms spread wide.
He shouted.
He didn't even know what he was shouting.
It didn't matter.
Kane was already chasing him.
Henderson followed.
Alli.
Lingard.
Trippier.
Rose.
The entire England team seemed to be running toward their captain.
Francesco reached the corner and turned toward the supporters.
For a moment, he simply stared.
The noise was unbelievable.
Then Kane crashed into him from behind.
Francesco laughed as the two nearly fell over.
Henderson wrapped an arm around both of them.
Alli joined.
Lingard jumped into the group.
More players arrived.
Francesco disappeared beneath a pile of England shirts.
"COME ON!"
Someone shouted.
The supporters answered.
Francesco finally managed to pull himself free.
He looked toward Kane.
Kane was grinning.
"You found the gap."
Francesco laughed.
"You saw it."
"I did."
Henderson shook his head.
"Brilliant."
Francesco looked back toward the England supporters.
The scoreboard showed it clearly.
England 1–0 Croatia.
Seventeen minutes.
World Cup final.
He touched the captain's armband briefly.
Then the players began walking back toward halfway.
Croatia's players were already waiting.
Modrić stood near the centre circle.
His expression had changed.
There was disappointment there.
But no panic.
He knew there was plenty of football remaining.
Francesco took his position.
The referee checked both sides.
The whistle went.
Croatia restarted.
And immediately, the entire rhythm changed.
Modrić demanded the ball.
"Give me!"
Rakitić moved higher.
Perišić pushed toward the left.
Rebić attacked the opposite side.
Mandžukić began battling aggressively with England's centre-backs.
Croatia wanted an immediate response.
They didn't want England to settle into their lead.
Modrić received and turned.
Henderson stepped across.
Modrić played around him.
Rakitić collected.
He looked toward Perišić.
The pass came.
Perišić accelerated.
Trippier tracked him.
Perišić crossed.
Mandžukić attacked it.
Maguire rose.
The ball was headed away.
"Again!" Modrić shouted.
Croatia recovered possession.
The pressure continued.
England's defenders had to work.
Stones intercepted one pass intended for Mandžukić.
Walker recovered brilliantly when Rebić attempted to run behind the defensive line.
Rose sprinted back after Perišić found space.
Henderson dropped deeper.
He was constantly checking his shoulders.
"Stay together!"
Maguire nodded.
"Keep the line!"
Croatia were throwing more bodies forward now.
The final had become exactly what everyone expected.
A battle.
Perišić tried again.
He found a little space.
A shot came through traffic.
Pickford saw it late.
He dropped quickly.
Saved.
The England supporters roared their approval.
Pickford immediately got back onto his feet.
"Come on!"
He pointed toward his defenders.
"Stay awake!"
Stones nodded.
Maguire clapped his hands.
England needed to survive this period.
Croatia weren't going to simply accept being two steps behind.
Modrić was everywhere.
He moved left.
Then right.
Then deeper.
He tried to pull Henderson out of position.
But Henderson stayed disciplined.
Rakitić attempted to exploit the space.
Henderson tracked him too.
England weren't trying to win every tackle.
They were trying to maintain their shape.
That was the difference.
When Croatia attacked, England defended together.
When they won the ball, they looked forward.
Francesco was still working constantly.
He dropped when necessary.
Then sprinted forward when England recovered possession.
At one point, Kane received the ball near the halfway line.
Francesco immediately ran beyond him.
Kane lifted his head.
He considered the pass.
But Lovren had read it.
The Croatian defender stepped across.
Kane pulled the ball back.
England kept it.
No need to force anything.
The game settled again.
But Croatia continued pushing.
The clock moved past twenty.
Then twenty-five.
Then thirty.
England remained ahead.
The supporters were beginning to believe.
Every successful clearance received applause.
Every tackle brought another roar.
Every time Francesco touched the ball, the England end reacted.
Croatia understood the danger.
Their defenders were increasingly conscious of his position.
And that would eventually create another problem.
Because England had other players.
At the thirty-ninth minute, the opening appeared.
Alli received the ball in midfield.
He turned.
Kane was moving.
It was a subtle run.
Not toward the goal.
Away from it.
Then suddenly across the defensive line.
The Croatian defenders looked toward Francesco.
He had become the player they feared most.
Vida checked his position.
Lovren glanced across.
Brozović shifted.
That small movement created space.
Alli saw it.
He didn't hesitate.
The pass went into Kane's path.
Kane controlled it.
One touch.
He was through the opening.
The Croatian defence tried to recover.
Kane didn't panic.
He took another touch.
Subašić came forward.
Kane opened his body.
Then struck.
The shot flew beyond the goalkeeper.
Into the net.
England 2–0 Croatia.
The England end erupted again.
Kane stood there for half a second.
Then he turned toward the corner.
He sprinted.
His teammates followed.
Francesco was among them.
Kane reached the corner and dropped to his knees.
Francesco grabbed him from behind.
Kane laughed.
Henderson arrived moments later.
Alli jumped into the celebration.
Lingard shouted.
The players embraced.
Two goals.
Two different players.
And both had come from England's movement.
Francesco pulled Kane to his feet.
"That's what happens when they watch me."
Kane laughed.
"Exactly."
Henderson shook his head.
"Keep doing that."
The players finally separated.
Kane looked toward the supporters.
They were still going crazy.
The Croatian players gathered near the halfway line.
Modrić spoke quietly with Rakitić.
Mandžukić looked frustrated.
Vida stood with his hands on his hips.
But they regrouped.
They had to.
There was still time.
The match resumed.
Croatia immediately tried to attack again.
But England were now playing with greater confidence.
They didn't rush.
Henderson slowed the tempo.
Alli held the ball.
Francesco moved into space.
Kane dropped occasionally to help.
The final minutes of the half became a tense stalemate.
Croatia wanted a goal before the break.
England refused to give them one.
Modrić tried to create.
Rakitić searched for passing lanes.
Perišić and Rebić continued working the wings.
Mandžukić battled for every cross.
But England defended intelligently.
Maguire won a header.
Stones intercepted another dangerous pass.
Trippier cleared one cross.
Rose tracked Rebić all the way back.
Pickford claimed a high ball under pressure.
Then another.
The England players began communicating constantly.
"Hold!"
"Stay!"
"Together!"
The referee looked at his watch.
England were almost there.
Kane received near the corner and shielded the ball.
He won a foul.
The clock continued moving.
Croatia took the free kick quickly.
Henderson intercepted.
He played toward Lingard.
Lingard carried it forward.
Francesco sprinted beyond him.
But Lingard chose to keep possession.
The whistle came soon after.
Half-time.
England 2–0 Croatia.
The players walked toward the tunnel.
Nobody celebrated wildly.
Not yet.
There was still another forty-five minutes.
Francesco walked beside Kane.
Kane was breathing heavily.
"Two."
Francesco nodded.
"Two."
Henderson walked behind them.
"Nothing changes."
Francesco looked back.
"Nothing."
They entered the dressing room.
The players immediately took water.
Some sat down.
Others remained standing.
Boots were loosened.
Towels were thrown over shoulders.
Everyone was exhausted.
The adrenaline was still running through them, but their legs had begun to feel the tournament.
Francesco sat on the bench.
He took a long drink.
Kane sat beside him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Kane looked across.
"Forty-five."
Francesco nodded.
"Forty-five."
The door opened.
Southgate entered.
The room fell silent.
He didn't congratulate them for long.
There was no time for that.
He looked around.
"We've done well."
The players listened.
"But this isn't finished."
Everyone knew.
"Croatia are going to come out desperate."
Southgate walked slowly across the room.
"They have to."
He pointed toward the tactical board.
"They'll want an early goal. They'll push forward. They'll try to make the game chaotic."
He looked directly at the players.
"And we don't help them."
Francesco listened carefully.
"The first ten minutes are important."
Southgate paused.
"Don't rush."
He repeated it.
"Don't rush."
Henderson nodded.
"We let them have it?"
"For a while."
Southgate moved toward the centre of the room.
"Exactly."
He wanted them to understand.
"Let Croatia have the ball for roughly ten minutes."
A few players exchanged glances.
"Make them work."
Southgate's voice remained calm.
"They'll come at us. They'll have energy. They'll have emotion. They'll want to score immediately."
He looked at Henderson.
"We stay compact."
Henderson nodded.
"Then?"
"Then we take control again."
Southgate pointed toward the attackers.
"Once that opening period is gone, we start playing our football again."
Kane nodded.
Francesco leaned forward.
Southgate continued.
"Don't turn this into a frantic match."
He looked around the room.
"We have the lead."
The words hung there.
"We don't need to win the first five minutes of the second half."
Nobody spoke.
"We need to win the match."
That was the difference.
Southgate wanted intelligence.
Patience.
Discipline.
The players had to resist the natural instinct to chase another goal immediately.
Croatia would be desperate.
England could use that desperation against them.
"Let them spend energy," Southgate said.
"Let them move the ball."
"Let them come forward."
"And when the moment comes, we take the game back."
He paused.
"Stay patient."
Another pause.
"Stay disciplined."
His eyes moved across the room.
"And above all, stay together."
Francesco looked around at his teammates.
They were exhausted.
But they were also two goals away from being remembered forever.
Not two goals.
Two goals ahead.
Forty-five minutes from history.
Kane tightened the laces on his boots.
Henderson stood.
Alli rolled his shoulders.
Francesco rose from his seat.
Southgate gave them one final look.
"Let's finish this properly."
The players nodded.
The room became quiet again.
Outside, the sound of the stadium was already returning.
Croatian supporters were making themselves heard.
England supporters answered.
The second half was waiting.
Francesco looked at the captain's armband around his arm.
He touched it briefly.
Then he looked toward Kane.
"Ready?"
Kane smiled.
"Never."
Francesco laughed.
"Good answer."
The players began walking toward the tunnel.
They had forty-five minutes left.
Croatia had nothing to lose.
England had everything to protect.
And Southgate's plan was simple.
Don't panic.
Don't chase.
Let Croatia come.
Let them spend themselves.
Then, when the first ten minutes had passed, England would begin the final push toward the trophy.
__________________________________________________
Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 19 (2017)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, FA Cup 2016/2017, 2016/2017 Champions League, 2017/2018 Carabao Cup, Premier League 2017/2018, FA Cup 2017/2018, and Champions League 2017/2018.
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 59
Goal: 76
Assist: 6
MOTM: 7
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 11
Goal: 13
Assist: 1
MOTM: 6
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9