1-0.
Bounou punched the post. Not hard. Once, with the side of his fist. The way you knock on a door.
Then he walked out of that goal and Subašić walked into it and they passed in the 6-yard box without a word, and Hakim Ziyech came out of our circle.
And 100 yards away, our end found something.
I do not know who started it. Nobody ever knows who starts it. But it came up out of the green like water coming through a floor, and it had a shape, 2 words and a clap, and by the time Hakim was 30 yards from the ball the entire wall had it.
"DI-ma Magh-RIB!"CLAP."DI-ma Magh-RIB!"CLAP.
Always Morocco.
40,000 people. From 100 yards. Hammering it down the length of that pitch at a man they could barely see.
And on top of it, cutting through it, over it, around it, that sound that no other football crowd on this earth makes. The women in the upper tier, hundreds of them, ululating.
Ayayayayayayay.
I have stood in a lot of grounds. Nothing gets under your ribs like that.
