CHAMPIONS LEAGUE – SEMI FINAL
AC MILAN VS ATLÉTICO MADRID
80th Minute
Score: 1–2
The referee blew the whistle as Oliver Giroud kicked off, and Cassian Marchessi received the ball.
"Stay sharp, Cass," Giroud muttered.
Cassian scanned the field.
There was no better option than going solo. Atlético had begun pressing harder, applying intense pressure with their attacking trio.
Then it happened.
Cassian and Thomas Lemar stood face to face.
Their eyes locked.
Cassian didn't hesitate.
He nudged the ball slightly to the right and lifted it with the front of his foot.
As Thomas shifted right to intercept, Cassian struck with the back of his foot—nutmegging him cleanly—and burst forward.
Thomas tried to grab his shirt, but failed and gave up the chase.
"Oh, here it is again—Cassian's brilliance on full display! You have to admit it, Brad, this kid is special!" one commentator shouted.
"Absolutely, Alex! Since coming on at halftime, he's completely changed the game. Are we about to witness another miracle?" the co-commentator replied.
The stadium erupted.
"Cass! Cass! Cass!"
"Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. This is the Champions League—anything can happen until the final whistle," Brad said.
Two defenders closed in on Cassian.
Should I pass… or just go wild?
Rationally, I should pass. But if I were that rational… I wouldn't be me.
Alright then… let's teach them something they'll never forget.
As Stefan Savić stepped in to tackle, he sensed something shift—a slight distraction.
Just for a split second.
But that was enough.
When he refocused, Cassian was already gone.
Savić froze, unable to process what had just happened.
A perfect roulette.
One down… one more.
Cassian deliberately closed the distance to the next defender—a clear one-on-one.
The defender looked irritated. No matter how talented Cassian was, he was still just a 17-year-old challenging a world-class veteran without hesitation.
But reality was cruel.
As the defender prepared to clear the ball, he suddenly saw it lift over his head. His reaction was quick—he jumped—but it was too high.
The ball shifted direction mid-air. He tried to adjust, but lost balance and crashed to the ground.
All of it happened within five seconds.
The stadium fell silent.
Then—
Explosion.
Milan's fans erupted, their roar shaking the stadium. Atlético's fans responded with boos, but they were completely drowned out.
"OH MY GOD! WHAT DID I JUST SEE, BRAD?! AM I DREAMING?!" Alex screamed.
"That's him! The Reaper! It doesn't matter who you are—past or present—if he doesn't spare you, you're finished!" Brad roared.
Now every defender focused on Cassian.
They knew—if they left him unchecked, disaster was inevitable.
Abandoning their original tactic of marking the attacking trio, they rushed toward him.
And then—
Cassian launched a long pass to the opposite flank.
For a moment, everyone froze.
Had he made a mistake?
The ball was heading out of play—
Or so they thought.
Out of nowhere—
Rafael Leão.
He sprinted like his life depended on it and reached the ball just before it crossed the line. But he didn't stop.
He drove forward at full speed until it was just him and the goalkeeper.
He didn't hesitate.
"Oh! It's Leão! He keeps it alive—and he's through! It's Leão versus Oblak!" Alex shouted.
"One of the best wingers in the world against one of the best goalkeepers! This is it!" Brad added.
If it had been anyone else, it would've been a goal.
But this was Oblak.
He anticipated the power shot, feinting left to bait Leão into going right.
But Leão didn't fall for it.
Instead—
A soft touch.
A flawless Panenka.
But—
The crossbar.
Denied.
The ball dropped back into play.
José Giménez sprinted toward it, desperate to clear.
He was inches away—
Then—
A presence.
Like a ghost, Cassian appeared exactly where the ball would fall.
No hesitation.
No calculation.
Just instinct.
Boom.
A volley—precise as a surgeon, violent as thunder.
The net rippled before Oblak could even react.
Silence—
For half a second.
Then—
"GOOOOOOAL!!"
"OF COURSE IT'S HIM—CASSIAN! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Alex completely lost control.
Hernández, Giroud, and Leão charged toward him in celebration.
Giroud and Leão slid beside Cassian, while Hernández sprinted toward them like a madman.
"No way!!"
"That was insane!!"
The Milan fans roared.
On the other side, Atlético's fans fell silent.
The bench erupted—players, staff, coaches—everyone lost in the moment.
Eventually, the referee called them back with a stern warning.
"That… that was a masterpiece, Alex. Five minutes—that's all it took to level the game," Brad said, still in disbelief.
"Well... this is champions League and Cassian! He is becoming more and more extravagant."
"Some are already calling him the future of football… putting his name next to Yamal—even Mbappé. Madness? Maybe."
" But after this… who's arguing?It's like he's writing his own legend ." The commentator said.
———
The match had ground into a war of attrition.
Atlético held the lion's share of possession, but they were hammering against a red-and-black wall.
Every time they probed the Milan box, the fans held its collective breath, a heavy silence hanging over the stands like a physical weight.
From his position, Cassian's eyes weren't just watching the ball—they were scanning the "heat" of the pitch.
He saw the strings Diego Simeone was pulling.
By pushing Yannick Carrasco and João Félix wide, Atlético was trying to stretch Milan's midfield thin, desperately trying to open a space for Koke to strike through the center.
88th Minute.
The trap was sprung. Ángel Correa fizzed a pass from the right flank to Félix. Without a second's hesitation, Félix played the pivot, laying it off perfectly for Carrasco.
Carrasco didn't even look. He knew the space was there. He whipped a blind, grass-cutting pass into the center, right into the path of a charging Koke.
But just as Koke prepared to pull the trigger, a shadow flickered across his vision.
"Intercepted! Cassian read it like a book!" Alex screamed.
Then he ignited the counter-attack. He fired a zip-pass to Giroud and surged forward. One-two.
The ball moved like a pinball between them. As they hit the arc of the box, the Atlético backline panicked.
They swarmed Giroud, drawn in by the veteran's gravity, completely oblivious to the vacuum they were leaving on the left.
Giroud didn't need to see him. With a cold, calculated no-look pass, he flicked the ball into the path of a sprinting Rafael Leão.
"A masterpiece of deception from Giroud! Leão is goal-side! He's going to—"
Before Leão could let fly a thunderbolt, Marcos Llorente flew in. It wasn't a play for the ball—it was a survival instinct. A heavy, bone-crunching challenge sent Leão sprawling just outside the area.
TWEEEEEET!
The referee's whistle cut through the roar of the crowd.
"Foul! Llorente takes him down! It was a cynical challenge, Brad, but he had no choice—Leão was about to blow the roof off the stadium!"