[Ding! Detected Host participating in UEFA European Under-21 Championship Final!]
[Side Quest Activated: Famous in Europe!]
[Objective: Win the final and secure the UEFA European Under-21 Championship title.]
[Reward: Attribute Acceleration Potion × 1.]
Germany came out of the kickoff with immediate, purposeful intent. Emre Can took control from the first touch, his frame absorbing pressure from Jesé as if the younger player weren't there, and Germany's formation pressed forward with a compactness and directness that Spain hadn't faced in the group stages.
"Germany are on the front foot immediately," Santiago said from the broadcast booth. "Emre Can orchestrating, he's dictating the tempo from the first minute, not waiting to settle into the match."
Inés checked the shape. "Spain are being pressed high. Germany's two pivots, Can and Arnold are operating in tandem, one pressing the ball, one covering the second ball. It's exactly the Bundesliga pressing model applied at international level."
Lorenzo lingered near the halfway line, watching the shape develop. The German press was different from anything he had encountered in La Liga. Sevilla and Valencia pressed with aggression. Germany pressed with geometry, every player knowing their zone, their trigger, their cover, so that when the press activated it arrived from every angle simultaneously rather than from one direction at a time.
In the stands, the Jerusalem crowd was divided roughly evenly, Spanish red filling the lower tier, German white spread across the upper sections, the neutral supporters from across Europe making up the rest. The noise was sustained and competitive without the one-sided weight of a home ground.
Koke, taking a pass from Illarramendi in the 7th minute, turned and immediately found himself pressed by both Meyer and Arnold before he could move. He played it back to Koke, who played it back to De Gea. The crowd noted it. Spain were being squeezed.
"Man-marking," Lopetegui called from the technical area. "Watch your man. Don't give up space in behind."
On the bench, Lorenzo heard Koke's voice during a brief pause in play. "Their pressing is different from ours at Atlético. Simeone's system wins the ball, then organises the counter. These guys win the ball and keep it."
It was accurate. Atlético's press was defensive in its DNA, win possession, defend the lead, grind the result. The Bundesliga press that Guardiola had embedded at Bayern, and which had spread through the German football system, was something else: win possession, retain it, attack from the recovery. The difference wasn't the pressing. It was what happened next.
"Frequent large-scale switches," Lorenzo said to Jesé beside him. "Don't get caught in their zones. When we have the ball, shift it quickly, side to side. Make them reorganise."
Jesé nodded. Bartra, nearby, leaned in. "We just follow Lorenzo's lead. He's been doing this against better defences than Germany for two months."
Koke rolled his eyes. "I know what he can do. I was on the other side of him in the Super Cup."
The tension in the group eased slightly.
It didn't stop what came in the 23rd minute.
Meyer collected the ball on the right wing, quick feet, low centre of gravity, the assurance of a player already comfortable at senior level for Schalke. He beat Illarramendi with a sharp change of direction and drove to near the byline. A feint, a step, and the cross came in - curling, pace maintained, dropping toward the near post.
Inside the box, Holtby and Hofmann had pulled Nacho and Moreno into a footrace. Emre Can had burst forward from midfield and arrived at the edge of the area, creating a third option that Carvajal had to track.
Hofmann grazed the ball at the near post, not a clean header, but enough to redirect the trajectory. The ball deflected away from De Gea's initial line.
Holtby arrived at the far post. He set himself, tensed his core, and headed downward toward the top-right corner.
De Gea launched himself, his arm span enormous, his timing correct.
The ball - deflected, fast, angle changed by Hofmann's touch — came at him differently than his dive had anticipated. His fingertips brushed it.
It struck the top corner anyway.
0-1.
The German section of the stadium erupted. Holtby sprinted toward the corner flag, arms wide. The rest of the Germany squad converged.
"HOLTBY! THE FIRST GOAL OF THE FINAL!" Santiago called. "Germany's aerial strength rewarded, a cross, a near-post deflection from Hofmann, and Holtby at the far post with the header! De Gea got a hand to it and it still went in, the deflection made it nearly unstoppable!"
Inés was measured. "Twenty-three minutes of consistent pressure, and Germany have converted through the method Hrubesch always builds for - the wide overload, the cross, the secondary header. It is a well-drilled set of movements and Spain's aerial defence struggled with the double movement of Hofmann and Holtby simultaneously."
On the touchline, Lopetegui paced once, stopped, and turned to his assistant. He began speaking - adjustments, shape, instructions for the restart. He was not panicking. He was working.
Lorenzo watched De Gea retrieve the ball from the net and walk back to his line. Spain were behind in a U-21 final. Twenty-two minutes remained in the first half.
In the Argentine digital feed, the reaction was immediate.
[Spain's defensive line was always going to be the vulnerability. Nacho and Bartra are good players but this Germany attack is extraordinary.]
[Lorenzo has barely touched the ball in twenty minutes. When they press him out of the game, Spain have no outlet.]
[This is what Bayern did to Barça in April. Same system, younger players, same result so far.]
[He came back from a goal down against Valencia and against Sevilla. Once the ball finds him, this changes.]
Lorenzo settled into the centre circle for the restart. One goal behind. Twenty-two minutes to the break.
Plz Drop Some Power Stones.
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