The roar of the San Siro was a physical thing, a wave of sound that washed over me and made the hairs on my arms stand up.
I looked out onto the pitch, a lush green canvas under the bright lights, and saw my teammates. Lautaro Martínez, Cole Palmer, calm as ever, his eyes scanning the field with the focus of a hawk.
And Julián Álvarez, bouncing on the balls of his feet, radiating a boundless energy.
I turned my attention to the opposition, my Vision flaring to life.
The Barcelona players were a sea of vibrant auras, a testament to their skill. I quickly scanned their key players: Robert Lewandowski, the ageless striker with a Potential: 90 and a Current: 88.
Pedri, the midfield maestro with a Potential: 92 and a Current: 86.
The whistle blew, and the match began.
The first few minutes were a tense, back-and-forth affair. Inter pressed high, trying to unsettle Barcelona's rhythm, but their passing was crisp and precise.
