"This is not a football match, folks, this is a beautiful, glorious argument between twenty-two men, and the ball is the subject of their disagreement! You cannot take your eyes off it!"
In the 22nd minute, Paulo Dybala decided to write a whole new chapter in the argument.
He received the ball in the center of the park, seemingly surrounded by the blue and black shirts of Barella and Çalhanoğlu.
For any normal player, it was a dead end.
For Dybala, it was an invitation.
He feinted left, dropped his shoulder, and with a touch so delicate it was like a whisper, he nutmegged Barella.
Çalhanoğlu lunged in to cover, but Dybala was already gone, gliding across the grass.
He pirouetted away from a sliding challenge from Bastoni, his balance almost supernatural. He was a ghost in a football match.
"DYBALA IS DANCING THROUGH THE INTER DEFENSE! HE'S LEFT THREE MEN IN HIS WAKE!"
