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Then, when the first ten minutes had passed, England would begin the final push toward the trophy.
Then the second half began beneath the deafening noise of Luzhniki Stadium.
The sound was different now.
England had a two-goal advantage, and their supporters knew it.
But nobody inside the England camp was celebrating yet.
There were still forty-five minutes between them and the trophy.
Southgate's instructions were fresh in everyone's mind.
Don't rush.
Don't chase.
Let Croatia come.
The referee blew his whistle.
Croatia immediately moved the ball backward before Modrić took possession.
The Croatian captain looked up.
England had dropped slightly deeper.
Henderson was already directing the shape.
"Stay together!"
Maguire and Stones held their positions.
Walker remained close enough to the centre-backs to prevent space opening behind them.
Trippier and Rose resisted the temptation to push forward.
Croatia circulated the ball.
Modrić to Rakitić.
Rakitić back to Brozović.
Then toward Perišić.
The Croatian players were trying to move England from side to side.
They wanted an early opening.
They wanted to score before England could settle.
Perišić pushed forward.
Rebić moved inside.
Mandžukić positioned himself between Maguire and Stones.
But England refused to panic.
Henderson kept talking.
"Hold the line."
"Stay compact."
"Don't jump."
Francesco had dropped deeper too.
He was almost level with the midfield at times, watching Modrić and Rakitić while constantly checking the space behind him.
He knew what Southgate wanted.
Croatia could have the ball.
But they couldn't have the spaces.
The first few minutes belonged to Croatia.
They passed patiently.
They moved the ball quickly.
Modrić tried to draw Henderson toward him before switching play.
Rakitić pushed higher.
Perišić received near the left touchline.
He looked toward the penalty area.
Maguire stepped across.
The cross never came.
Perišić played backward.
The Croatian supporters grew louder.
England waited.
Then, suddenly, the ball was won.
Henderson stepped in front of Rakitić and took possession.
He looked up immediately.
Francesco was already moving.
The England captain accelerated into the open space.
Henderson found him.
Francesco took the ball in stride.
For a moment, there was nothing ahead of him except grass.
Croatia had committed several players forward.
Francesco carried the ball toward the halfway line.
Kane began moving.
Francesco waited.
Then slipped the ball toward him.
Kane controlled.
Vida recovered quickly.
The Croatian defender threw himself across the passing lane and blocked the final attempt.
The chance was gone.
But England had made their point.
One mistake from Croatia and England could be running at them.
Francesco jogged back.
Kane looked at him.
"Nearly."
Francesco nodded.
"Keep doing it."
Croatia restarted.
They were more cautious now.
The urgency remained, but the recklessness had disappeared.
They knew England could hurt them.
Another England counter came minutes later.
Alli collected possession near the centre circle.
He turned.
There was space ahead.
He carried the ball forward.
Kane pulled a defender away.
Francesco drifted toward the right.
Sterling waited on the flank.
Alli continued toward the penalty area.
The Croatian defence backed away.
Eventually Alli opened his body and struck.
Subašić reacted quickly.
He got down and pushed the ball away.
The England supporters groaned.
Alli turned and clapped his hands.
"Good football!"
Francesco pointed toward him.
"Again!"
Croatia were beginning to understand the problem.
Every time they pushed forward, England could counter.
Every time they slowed down, England became more comfortable.
The opening ten minutes were beginning to disappear.
Southgate watched from the touchline.
Then he raised his hand.
The message was clear.
Step higher.
England responded.
Henderson moved farther forward.
Alli began finding more room between the Croatian lines.
Kane dropped toward midfield, received the ball and immediately turned toward goal.
Francesco began drifting across the attacking areas with greater freedom.
Sometimes he moved left.
Sometimes right.
Sometimes directly through the middle.
Trippier pushed forward.
Rose did the same on the opposite side.
Suddenly Croatia were being forced backward.
The balance of the match had changed.
England were no longer simply protecting their lead.
They were controlling the game.
The ball moved around the midfield.
Henderson to Alli.
Alli to Kane.
Kane back to Henderson.
Francesco checked toward the ball.
Then turned.
The England supporters responded to every pass.
"England!"
"England!"
The noise grew with every successful passage.
Croatia tried to resist.
Modrić continued demanding possession.
Rakitić searched for angles.
Brozović remained behind them.
But England were dictating where the game was being played.
Then came the sixty-second minute.
England moved forward again.
Kane received near the edge of the penalty area.
Vida closed him down.
Kane shielded the ball.
He didn't rush.
He held off the pressure just long enough.
Then he found Alli.
Alli received and immediately looked up.
Francesco was moving.
The captain had drifted into a dangerous central position.
Alli returned the ball.
Francesco entered the penalty area.
Croatia had a decision to make.
Close Kane?
Track Francesco?
Both defenders hesitated.
It was barely a second.
But Francesco had already seen it.
He took one controlled touch.
Then struck.
The shot was powerful.
Subašić reacted.
But this time there was no saving it.
The ball flew beyond him.
Into the net.
England 3–0 Croatia.
For a moment, the stadium seemed to stop.
Then it exploded.
Francesco stood frozen.
His mouth opened slightly.
He looked at the net.
Then at the scoreboard.
Three.
England had three.
And two of them belonged to him.
His face broke into a huge smile.
He turned.
Then sprinted toward the corner.
Both arms spread wide.
Kane was already chasing him.
Henderson followed.
Alli.
Lingard.
Maguire.
Stones.
The entire England team seemed to be running toward him.
Francesco reached the corner.
The England supporters were completely out of control.
Flags waved wildly.
Scarves flew through the air.
People embraced strangers.
And then the chant began.
"FRANCESCO!"
Another section answered.
"FRANCESCO!"
Soon the whole England end seemed to be singing it.
"FRANCESCO! FRANCESCO!"
Francesco turned toward the supporters.
He could barely hear himself think.
Kane grabbed him by the shoulders.
"Two in the final!"
Francesco laughed.
"What a night!"
Henderson wrapped an arm around him.
Alli joined.
Lingard jumped into the group.
Francesco disappeared again beneath England shirts.
He eventually managed to escape the pile.
He pointed toward the supporters.
"Stay focused!"
Kane nodded.
"Still going."
Francesco looked toward the centre circle.
"Still going."
The celebration ended.
The players returned to their positions.
Croatia looked stunned.
But they were not finished.
The referee restarted.
Modrić immediately demanded the ball.
He took it.
One touch.
Then another.
Croatia moved forward.
Rakitić pushed higher.
Perišić moved into space.
England began dropping.
The Croatian supporters found their voices again.
The attack developed down the left.
Modrić played the ball toward Perišić.
The winger received between the England defenders.
For a moment, he was free.
Perišić shifted inside.
Pickford stepped slightly forward.
Perišić struck.
The shot flew beyond him.
Into the net.
England 3–1 Croatia.
The Croatian supporters exploded.
Perišić sprinted toward them.
His teammates followed.
The momentum had suddenly changed.
The England players stood around the halfway line.
Francesco looked toward Henderson.
"Reset!"
Henderson clapped his hands.
"Reset! Come on!"
Southgate stood near the touchline.
"Calm!"
The manager's voice carried across the technical area.
Croatia had their goal.
They had belief again.
And England had to respond.
Mandžukić began battling for every aerial ball.
Modrić demanded possession.
Rakitić pushed forward.
Perišić became even more aggressive.
Rebić searched for space.
Croatia were no longer protecting themselves.
They had nothing to protect.
They threw players forward.
England had to withstand it.
But England remained dangerous.
Francesco repeatedly found space behind the advancing midfield.
Kane held the Croatian defenders in place.
One counter saw Francesco receive the ball and drive forward before playing toward Kane.
Another ended with Sterling sprinting into space.
Croatia were taking risks.
England were waiting for the right moment.
The clock moved toward seventy minutes.
Southgate looked toward the bench.
Then he made his decision.
The fourth official raised the board.
The England supporters saw the numbers.
Lingard was coming off.
Trippier was coming off.
Rooney was coming on.
Sterling was coming on.
The crowd applauded.
Lingard walked toward the sideline, breathing heavily.
Francesco met him briefly.
"Brilliant."
Lingard nodded.
"Finish it."
Trippier followed.
He exchanged a quick handshake with Southgate before stepping off.
Rooney entered.
Sterling entered.
The fresh legs immediately changed England's shape.
Rooney took up a deeper position.
He wasn't interested in chasing the game.
He wanted to control it.
His first few touches were simple.
Receive.
Turn.
Pass.
Again.
Henderson moved beside him.
Sterling stayed higher.
The message was obvious.
If Croatia wanted to attack, they would have to worry about Sterling running behind them.
Dalić responded almost immediately.
Croatia made their own changes.
Strinić came off.
Rebić came off.
Andrej Kramarić entered.
Marko Pjaca entered.
The Croatian bench was trying to add more attacking movement.
The match became frantic again.
Croatia attacked.
England defended.
England won the ball.
Sterling ran.
Rooney slowed the game.
Henderson chose the safe pass.
Francesco moved between the lines.
Kane remained available.
The England supporters grew anxious every time Croatia entered the final third.
Pickford shouted.
"Clear!"
Maguire rose above Mandžukić.
The ball was headed away.
Rakitić collected.
Another cross.
Stones cleared.
Perišić chased the loose ball.
Walker arrived first.
He knocked it out.
The England fans applauded.
Croatia kept coming.
They knew one more goal would completely change the atmosphere.
3–2 would be dangerous.
3–2 would make every England player think twice.
So Croatia pushed.
Wave after wave.
Mandžukić challenged for another cross.
Maguire won it.
Modrić collected the second ball.
Henderson closed him down.
Modrić turned away.
He found Rakitić.
Rakitić tried to play through.
Stones stepped forward.
Intercepted.
England recovered.
Francesco immediately started running.
He wanted the counter.
Sterling was already sprinting down the flank.
Kane moved centrally.
Francesco carried the ball.
The Croatian defenders retreated.
For a moment, England had three against three.
The England supporters rose.
Francesco looked toward Sterling.
Then Kane.
He slowed.
Croatia recovered.
Francesco kept possession.
No need to force it.
Rooney arrived.
Francesco played backward.
England started again.
The supporters applauded.
That was what Southgate wanted.
Intelligence.
No panic.
No unnecessary risk.
The clock continued to move.
Seventy-five minutes.
Then seventy-eight.
Then eighty.
Croatia were still fighting.
England were still standing.
Maguire and Stones were exhausted, but they kept winning challenges.
Walker continued recovering at incredible speed.
Henderson never stopped talking.
"Stay compact!"
"Watch the runner!"
"Keep the line!"
Rose tracked Pjaca.
Sterling remained ready to explode forward.
Rooney continued slowing the game whenever he received possession.
And Francesco kept looking toward the Croatian goal.
He wanted another.
Everyone could feel it.
Every time he touched the ball, the England supporters expected something.
Croatia knew it too.
They couldn't afford to give him space.
But that also meant Kane could find space.
And if they followed Kane, Alli could arrive.
The game had become a constant series of decisions.
Croatia needed goals.
England needed control.
The trophy was still waiting.
Somewhere above the stadium, the World Cup remained exactly where it had been before kick-off.
But now it felt closer.
England could almost see it.
The clock continued moving.
The Croatian supporters refused to stop singing.
The England supporters answered.
The noise rose and fell with every attack.
There were no easy moments anymore.
Every clearance mattered.
Every tackle mattered.
Every pass mattered.
Francesco stood near the halfway line after another Croatian attack had been stopped.
He looked toward the scoreboard.
England 3–1 Croatia.
The minutes were disappearing.
Henderson walked past him.
"Keep going."
Francesco nodded.
"Always."
Croatia gathered themselves for another attack.
Modrić received.
Perišić moved wide.
Kramarić ran through the middle.
Mandžukić pushed toward the box.
Rakitić followed.
England dropped into shape.
Pickford stood ready.
Maguire and Stones held their ground.
Walker checked the space behind.
Henderson pointed.
"Together!"
England moved as one.
The final was entering its most difficult stage.
Croatia refused to surrender.
England refused to break.
Then the 80th minute arrived.
By now, every movement on the pitch seemed to carry more weight.
Croatia were still coming.
They had no choice.
Modrić continued demanding the ball, waving his teammates forward whenever England managed to clear their lines. Rakitić pushed higher into midfield. Perišić kept searching for room on the left, while Kramarić moved between the lines, trying to find the spaces England had worked so hard to close.
Mandžukić remained inside the penalty area, constantly battling with Maguire and Stones.
England were tired.
Everyone was tired.
But they were still three goals away from disaster.
And somewhere in the middle of all that pressure, Francesco was still running.
He had already scored twice.
He had already carried the England attack through some of the most important moments of the final.
But he wasn't thinking about his goals.
He was thinking about the clock.
Eighty minutes.
Ten more.
Then perhaps another five.
Then another.
The trophy was getting closer.
Croatia attacked again.
Modrić received near the centre circle and immediately turned.
Henderson stepped toward him.
Modrić tried to play around the England midfielder, but Henderson got a foot to the ball.
It broke loose.
Rooney reacted first.
He controlled it and looked forward.
Sterling was already moving.
Francesco saw the space.
He started running.
Rooney played toward Henderson.
Henderson took one touch and immediately sent the ball forward.
England suddenly had room.
Sterling raced down the right.
Kane moved through the centre.
Francesco came from the opposite side, accelerating between the Croatian midfield and defence.
The Croatian players turned.
For the first time in several minutes, they were running toward their own goal.
Sterling carried the ball forward.
He looked inside.
Francesco was there.
The pass came.
A Croatian defender closed quickly.
Francesco took the ball under pressure.
His first touch wasn't perfect.
The ball moved slightly away from him.
But he reacted immediately.
One step.
Then another.
He used his body to protect the ball.
The defender tried to reach around him.
Francesco shifted the ball onto his stronger foot.
There was barely any space.
Subašić stepped forward.
Francesco looked up.
For a split second, everything seemed to slow down.
He knew exactly what he wanted.
He struck.
The finish was clean.
Low.
Precise.
Beyond Subašić.
The goalkeeper stretched desperately.
But the ball was already beyond him.
It rolled into the net.
England 4–1 Croatia.
Francesco stopped.
He stared at the goal.
Then at the scoreboard.
His hands slowly moved toward his head.
Three.
He had scored three goals.
In the World Cup final.
A hat-trick.
For a moment, he looked almost unable to understand what had just happened.
Then the stadium exploded.
The England supporters completely lost themselves.
Flags waved everywhere.
Scarves flew through the air.
People were hugging one another.
Some were crying.
Others were screaming Francesco's name at the top of their lungs.
"FRANCESCO!"
The chant came from one section.
Then another.
Then another.
"FRANCESCO! FRANCESCO!"
Francesco turned toward the corner.
He started running.
Both arms stretched wide.
His face was filled with disbelief.
He laughed as he ran.
He shouted something toward the supporters, though he couldn't even hear his own voice.
Kane was chasing him.
Henderson was right behind Kane.
Rooney sprinted after them.
Sterling.
Alli.
The substitutes were already on their feet near the touchline.
Francesco reached the corner.
He turned toward the stands.
The noise hit him again.
He simply stood there for a moment.
Then Kane grabbed him.
"THREE!"
Francesco laughed.
"I know!"
"THREE IN THE FINAL!"
Henderson arrived and wrapped both arms around them.
Rooney joined.
Sterling jumped into the group.
Alli grabbed Francesco around the shoulders.
Soon the captain disappeared beneath a mass of England shirts.
Someone was shouting.
Someone else was laughing.
Francesco could barely breathe.
He finally managed to pull himself free.
He looked at Kane.
Kane was still smiling.
"This is unbelievable."
Francesco shook his head.
"I don't believe it."
Henderson laughed.
"You'd better believe it."
Francesco looked toward the England supporters.
They were still singing.
Still shouting.
Still waving flags.
He raised both hands.
"Stay focused!"
Kane nodded.
"Still not finished."
Francesco looked toward the centre circle.
"Not yet."
The players slowly separated.
The celebration had lasted only moments.
But the image would remain with all of them forever.
Francesco turned back toward the pitch.
Croatia were already preparing to restart.
They looked devastated.
But they weren't surrendering.
Modrić stood over the ball.
He looked at his teammates.
"Come on."
The whistle sounded.
Croatia moved forward again.
Modrić demanded possession immediately.
Rakitić pushed higher.
Perišić drifted into space.
Kramarić moved between England's midfield and defence.
Mandžukić stayed high.
Croatia had three goals to find.
There was no reason to save energy now.
They had to attack.
England retreated.
Henderson immediately began organizing.
"Stay compact!"
Maguire pointed toward Stones.
"Together!"
Pickford stepped forward from his goal.
"Keep talking!"
The goalkeeper's voice carried across the defensive line.
England knew what was coming.
Croatia would throw everything at them.
The next few minutes became a test of endurance.
Modrić carried the ball forward.
Henderson followed.
Rakitić tried to move beyond them.
Rooney dropped deeper.
Sterling stayed high.
Francesco moved back toward midfield whenever England needed another body.
Then, whenever the ball was won, he immediately looked forward.
England still wanted another goal.
But they didn't need one.
They needed the clock.
Croatia attacked down the left.
Perišić crossed.
Mandžukić challenged.
Maguire rose above him.
The ball was headed away.
Rakitić collected.
Another cross.
Stones cleared.
Kramarić picked up the loose ball.
He turned toward the penalty area.
Walker arrived.
The English full-back got there just before him and knocked the ball away.
The England supporters roared.
The noise was becoming constant.
There was no silence anymore.
Every tackle brought another wave of sound.
Every clearance was celebrated.
Every successful pass seemed to bring the trophy a little closer.
The clock moved.
Eighty-two.
Eighty-three.
Eighty-four.
Croatia refused to stop.
England refused to break.
Then came the 87th minute.
Croatia built another attack through midfield.
Modrić received the ball and carried it forward.
He found Rakitić.
Rakitić moved it wide.
Perišić returned inside.
The Croatian attack developed quickly.
Kramarić moved toward the box.
Mandžukić positioned himself between Maguire and Stones.
The ball was delivered into the penalty area.
Mandžukić battled.
Maguire tried to stay with him.
Stones stepped across.
For a moment, all three players were fighting for the same ball.
Mandžukić managed to find just enough space.
One touch.
Then the finish.
Pickford reacted.
But the ball flew beyond him.
Into the net.
England 4–2 Croatia.
The Croatian supporters erupted.
It wasn't the celebration of a team that believed they had already won.
It was the celebration of a team that suddenly believed there might still be a chance.
Mandžukić turned toward his teammates.
They chased after him.
Croatia gathered together.
England players stood near the centre circle.
Francesco looked immediately toward Henderson.
Henderson raised both hands.
"Calm!"
Francesco nodded.
"Calm."
Southgate was shouting from the touchline.
"Stay disciplined!"
The manager pointed toward the defensive shape.
"Stay together!"
The message was clear.
No panic.
No stupid mistakes.
Croatia had found a second goal.
But England still had two.
The match was entering its final minutes.
And every second mattered.
Croatia pushed forward again.
Modrić demanded the ball.
Rakitić ran beyond him.
Perišić moved wide.
Kramarić searched for another opening.
Mandžukić stayed inside the penalty area.
England dropped deeper.
Maguire won a header.
The ball went out.
Croatia restarted quickly.
Another attack.
Stones intercepted.
Another cross.
Walker cleared.
Pjaca tried to attack the left side.
Rose tracked him all the way back.
He waited until the last possible moment before putting the ball out.
The England supporters applauded.
"COME ON!"
Henderson fought for another loose ball.
He was exhausted.
Everyone was.
But he still threw himself into the challenge.
Rooney recovered the ball.
Instead of playing forward immediately, he slowed everything down.
He turned.
Held it.
Waited.
Then passed sideways.
Henderson received.
Another safe pass.
England were taking seconds away from Croatia.
Sterling remained high.
He was the escape route.
If England needed to clear pressure, they could find him.
Francesco dropped deeper again.
He wasn't concerned about his hat-trick anymore.
He was helping the team.
When the ball was won, however, his instincts took over.
He moved forward.
There was still space behind Croatia.
Sterling received one pass and immediately accelerated.
Francesco ran through the centre.
Kane moved to the other side.
For a moment, England had numbers.
But Croatia recovered.
Sterling eventually played backward.
Rooney arrived.
England kept possession.
The supporters applauded.
They understood.
This wasn't about another goal now.
It was about finishing the job.
The clock continued.
Eighty-eight.
Eighty-nine.
Croatia attacked again.
Modrić received near the centre circle.
He turned.
Henderson was waiting.
The Croatian captain tried to move past him.
Henderson stayed with him.
Modrić finally released the ball toward Perišić.
Perišić controlled.
Walker stepped across.
The Croatian winger tried to cross.
Walker blocked it.
The ball bounced back toward Perišić.
He tried again.
Another block.
The ball went loose.
Rakitić collected.
He lifted his head.
Mandžukić was waiting.
The cross came.
Maguire rose.
His forehead met the ball.
Clear.
It travelled toward the edge of the area.
Pickford came out.
He gathered it securely against his chest.
Then he held it.
He didn't rush.
The England supporters screamed.
"COME ON!"
Pickford looked toward the clock.
Then toward his defenders.
"Get up!"
The players moved forward.
Pickford released the ball.
Rooney received.
He turned away from pressure.
Another few seconds disappeared.
Francesco looked toward the scoreboard.
England 4–2 Croatia.
The supporters had started singing.
At first, it was only a small group.
Then more joined.
And eventually the familiar chant spread throughout the England end.
"It's coming home!"
Francesco smiled.
He knew the song.
Everyone did.
"It's coming home!"
The Croatian supporters answered with their own songs.
They refused to go quietly.
But the England voices grew louder.
"It's coming home!"
The sound rolled around Luzhniki Stadium.
Southgate stood at the edge of his technical area.
His eyes never left the pitch.
Behind him, the substitutes were already standing.
Coaches looked toward the clock.
Some had their hands clasped.
Others were talking nervously.
Nobody wanted to say it.
Not yet.
Because there was still time.
Croatia made one final push.
Modrić received again.
He moved toward the right side.
Henderson closed him down.
Modrić tried to turn.
Henderson stayed with him.
The ball reached Perišić.
Perišić looked up.
Walker was already in front of him.
The cross was blocked.
The ball bounced back.
Croatia recovered it.
Another delivery came.
This time toward Mandžukić.
Maguire attacked it.
He rose above everyone.
Clear.
The ball travelled toward the halfway line.
Pickford moved toward the edge of his area.
The England defenders stepped forward.
The Croatian players chased.
Francesco stood near the centre circle.
He looked around.
Kane was breathing heavily.
Henderson had his hands on his hips.
Maguire was bent forward for a second before straightening.
Stones wiped his face.
Walker looked exhausted.
Sterling was still standing tall.
Everyone had given everything.
Francesco looked toward the England supporters.
They were still singing.
Flags moved across the stands.
Some fans had tears running down their faces.
Others had their hands over their mouths.
Some were already holding one another.
They knew.
They were close.
So close.
The referee checked his watch.
Croatia tried one last time.
The ball moved forward.
Kramarić chased.
Mandžukić called for it.
But Henderson got there.
He intercepted.
The ball broke loose.
Rooney collected.
He didn't even look toward goal.
He simply moved it away from danger.
Sterling ran onto it.
The Croatian defenders followed.
Sterling carried the ball toward the halfway line.
Then stopped.
He had done enough.
England had done enough.
The referee looked at his watch again.
The next sound seemed to come from everywhere at once.
The whistle.
Full time.
For a second, Francesco didn't react.
He stood completely still.
England 4–2 Croatia.
The words were on the scoreboard.
But his mind needed another moment to understand them.
Then everything changed.
The England bench exploded.
Southgate sprinted onto the pitch.
The substitutes followed.
Coaching staff ran behind them.
Players threw their arms into the air.
Pickford dropped to his knees.
Kane screamed toward the England supporters.
Henderson turned and immediately grabbed Rooney.
Sterling jumped into Alli's arms.
Maguire grabbed Stones.
The two centre-backs embraced, laughing and shouting.
Trippier and Rose celebrated near the touchline.
The stadium had become chaos.
Beautiful chaos.
Francesco stood in the middle of it.
He looked around.
Everyone was running.
Everyone was shouting.
Everyone was crying.
He looked toward the England supporters.
They were completely overwhelmed.
Flags were waving everywhere.
Scarves were held above heads.
People were embracing strangers.
Some fans had tears streaming down their faces.
And the chant became deafening.
"IT'S COMING HOME!"
"IT'S COMING HOME!"
Francesco finally raised both arms.
He laughed.
Then someone grabbed him from behind.
Kane.
"You did it!"
Francesco turned.
Kane hugged him tightly.
"We did it."
Henderson joined them.
Then Rooney.
Sterling.
Alli.
The entire squad seemed to gather around their captain.
Francesco was pulled in every direction.
Someone kissed his forehead.
Someone else slapped his back.
Everyone was shouting.
Three goals.
A World Cup final hat-trick.
And England were world champions.
But after several minutes, Francesco slowly stepped away.
There was something else he wanted to do.
He looked toward the Croatian players.
They were devastated.
Some stood with their hands on their hips.
Others sat on the pitch.
Mandžukić looked down.
Perišić stared toward the stands.
Rakitić stood quietly beside Modrić.
Francesco walked toward them.
One by one.
He shook hands.
"Great fight."
He greeted Kramarić.
Then Pjaca.
Vida.
Lovren.
Subašić.
Mandžukić.
Perišić.
Rakitić.
Each handshake was accompanied by a few quiet words.
There was no need for long speeches.
The result said everything.
Francesco stopped in front of Modrić.
For a moment, neither said anything.
Then Francesco extended his hand.
Modrić took it.
"Congratulations."
Francesco nodded.
"Thank you."
Modrić looked toward him.
"You were incredible."
Francesco smiled.
"You fought brilliantly too."
Modrić nodded.
"We gave everything."
"I know."
They shook hands again.
Francesco placed a hand briefly on Modrić's shoulder.
"You deserved to be here."
Modrić smiled sadly.
"So did you."
They embraced.
Then Francesco continued through the Croatian players.
He thanked them.
Congratulated them on reaching the final.
Told them they had fought brilliantly.
There was respect between the two teams now.
The final had been brutal.
But it had also been worthy of a final.
Eventually Francesco turned back.
He heard his teammates calling.
"Francesco!"
He looked toward them.
Kane stood near the centre of the pitch with both arms raised.
Henderson was waving him back.
"Come on!"
Francesco smiled.
He jogged toward them.
Kane reached him first.
Another embrace.
Henderson followed.
Rooney joined.
Sterling jumped alongside them.
Southgate arrived moments later.
The manager looked exhausted.
But he was smiling.
He placed both hands on Francesco's shoulders.
"Captain."
Francesco laughed.
"Manager."
Southgate shook his head.
"What a performance."
Francesco looked around.
The lights of Luzhniki Stadium shone above them.
The England supporters were still singing.
The players were still celebrating.
The captain's armband remained wrapped around his arm.
And somewhere nearby, waiting to be lifted, was the trophy.
The trophy that had seemed so impossibly far away when the tournament began.
Japan.
Brazil.
France.
Croatia.
Every match.
Every training session.
Every flight.
Every difficult moment.
Every celebration.
Every doubt.
All of it had led here.
Francesco looked at his teammates.
Kane.
Henderson.
Rooney.
Sterling.
Alli.
Maguire.
Stones.
Pickford.
Walker.
Rose.
Trippier.
And everyone else who had played their part.
They had made it.
England had made it.
They were world champions.
The supporters began singing again.
Louder than before.
"IT'S COMING HOME!"
Francesco laughed as Kane pulled him into another embrace.
Above them, the lights continued to shine across Luzhniki.
And for the first time that entire tournament, there was nowhere else to go.
No next opponent.
No next match.
No next flight.
No next training session.
Only the trophy.
Only the celebration.
Only the realization that England had completed the journey.
And at the centre of it all stood their captain, Francesco, exhausted, laughing, overwhelmed, and still wearing the armband as the entire England squad celebrated around him.
They had come to Russia dreaming of this moment and now it was real, as England were world champions.
__________________________________________________
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: 14
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