The stadium turned instantly. Galatasaray's players retrieved the ball from the net like the equalizer was already guaranteed, their bench on its feet, the end behind the goal bouncing hard enough that Bruno's attempt to organize the restart barely carried over the noise.
"Same again, same again!" Onana shouted at his own back line, jabbing a finger toward the edge of the box, more frustrated with himself than with anyone in front of him.
Maguire jogged over to him anyway. "Forget it. Ball's still there to be won."
"I know that," Onana said. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
Bruno gathered the midfield in with both arms before the restart. "Nobody panics. We're still up. Play the way we've been playing, not the way they want us to."
Demien looked at the scoreboard once.
Not again.
That was all the room Copenhagen got.
