"That will do it," the commentary came through on the broadcast as the whistle came to a stop.
"A very good matchup on all levels, but today, Italy were the better side from start to finish. England had a few bright moments, but they spent most of the night chasing shadows. The Italians will walk away from this feeling encouraged, especially with the way their young midfield bossed the game."
The Italian players took a second before breaking into small celebrations.
Nothing wild.
Just applause lifted above their heads as they turned in every direction, acknowledging the row of blue in the stands.
Some exchanged quick hugs, others jogged toward teammates they had battled beside for the past ninety minutes.
A few English players offered handshakes immediately, and the Italians met them halfway.
Leo stayed where he was.
He dropped into a squat near the centre circle, elbows resting on his knees, staring at a blade of grass he kept nudging with his thumb.
