In it went, for the last time. Dani Carvajal’s pass was clipped into the area, Isco’s control on the chest was impeccable, and the shot went through Tom Heaton’s legs and into the net. Heaton sank to the floor and others followed him, disbelief hitting as hard as Dani Carvajal hit the corner flag celebrating. Spain’s players embraced, screaming vindication. Across the other side of the stadium, a small group of fans in red and yellow leapt and cheered. England’s supporters were shocked and almost silent. Those that were still there, that is. Many had gone already.
Of course they had gone: they thought this was won. Everyone did. Spain, though, had rebelled. Four seconds passed between England taking the kick-off and the final whistle. Six minutes had passed since Iago Aspas had scored the first goal for Spain. England fans had long since raised the torches on their phones, like candles, a Mexican wave going around. When that happens you know you’re beaten and you know they know it too. You know there’s not much of a game going on.
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