Never stop believing

Goool. Out of the rain that cry emerged, goool, to fall on O Dragao as a sentence. Goool. A footballer on his knees, fists to the sky. Goool. The 0-2. The end of a counter launched by Grizi and resolved by Correa. El Atleti del Cholo back at the right time, here and now, to embrace the Champions League like that poem by Kiping: “If you can keep believing in yourself when everyone doubts, go ahead, go ahead.” Ahead. To eighths.

Ninety minutes before, he jumped to the grass with three centrals even though he only had one (Beautiful), crossed on the right by Vrsaljko and on the left by Kondogbia, lanes for Llorente and Carrasco. An unexpected eleven where Cholo wanted his players to be men, not names. The game was for that, the night. Jumped with rhythm, anticipations. Conceição, meanwhile, had all his doubts short, Grujic, Pepe and João Mario. With very high pressure, and some sharp kick already, to reduce the rojiblanco momentum. They played the same thing, life, the Champions League, also in these 90 ‘.

A pull back left, at 10 ‘, Cholo without Suárez, who left in tears, desolate. Cunha entered the party with the serious gesture of someone who goes to war to win it. At that moment, at the speed of a galloping horse, Carrasco appeared. To a rival he made a pipe, to another, a bicycle, to the third, a broken one. But Griezmann did not reach his low center and Llorente, who yes, forced, threw him out. The party was entering another state. The radio turned up the volume. A goal that came from San Siro. From Milan. Heart stopped. Porto was no longer worth what happened in O Dragao. He pounced on Atleti. An Atleti who prepared to shrink balls, water and lunges, unable to leave his area. But as the night grew dark a figure appeared. She came in green, with miracle gloves, gigantic. It was San Jan. Because yesterday Oblak was Oblak. He saw the storm coming, he blew on his fingers and stopped. He took a shot from Luis Díaz that brought hell, he was everywhere.

Your equipment did not carburet, did not respond, melted in the engine room. Lemar, Koke and De Paul outmatched, outmatched in physical and football, slow, unable to win a split ball. Vitinha danced for Conceição, for Cholo, shadows. The best thing that happened to him was given to him by Klopp: goal by Salah. Everything went back to the beginning. If Atleti scored, it was in the eighth. Grujic was looking for Oblak for the last time, before the break, with a ball in his hands.

Forty-five minutes to the heroic

Porto were classified when the game returned, although everything continued 0-0. Atleti had 45 ‘for the heroic. Although at the beginning it continued slowly and without success, the centrals stuck, only subject to miracles on Oblak’s fingers. Or on the leg. The one he took to repel a cross whip from Taremi and avoid the goal. Shortly after, like so many other times in Cholista history, a cape fluttered in a corner. It was from Griezmann, to paint the night of resilience and go back to playing football never stop believing. Taremi combed the ball back, where the Frenchman waited with his left foot ready and cut off the dragon’s head.. Goal, delirium, kilos of fear exhaled. Cunha was able to extend the advantage with a play in which he went for power and stung the goalkeeper, but Pepe saved on the lime.

Porto opened their hands and the Champions League had gone. He surrounded the party, which was filled with anger. The wick was lit by Otávio when he stepped on Carrasco, who responded disproportionately, red. But there it was Diego Cunha Coast to balance and get a similar slap from Wendell. Red Again ten against ten. And fifteen minutes consumed in a clock that ran for Atleti.

Conceição introduced four changes, freshness. But they all came across two brooms, Kondogbia and an outstanding Vrsaljko. Meanwhile, Correa was looking for cons like the one he threw Grizi to seal the eighth, although the match did not end there but with a goal from De Paul that rounded it off. And no matter what the radio said in San Siro. And it did not matter, either, the last gasp of Porto: a penalty that Hermoso did and Evanilson scored. It did not matter. That cry had already emerged from the rain, goool, embraced to the eighths. And that music continues for Atleti. The Champiooons.