For a few seconds after Izan's second goal and curt celebration, even the PSG fans couldn't bring themselves to boo.
They just sat there, stunned, eyes following the Arsenal number ten as he jogged back to his half, calm, collected, like a man who'd done this a hundred times before.
Then the murmurs began, soft at first, then growing louder across the stands.
"Something's got to be done about that kid," an American fan in a navy PSG jersey said, shaking his head as he turned to his friend.
"What sort of problem is this?"
His friend let out a long sigh, still staring at the pitch.
"It's not just us. Nobody's been able to stop him since the start of this tournament. This final might as well be done already."
A few rows behind them, a dude wearing a Retro Barca jersey leaned forward, speaking more to himself than anyone else.
"How many goals has he scored now?"
The man beside him, holding a paper cup of beer, pulled out his phone.
