Man City 3-0 Bayern Munich (Rodri 27′, Bernardo 70′, Haaland 77′)
ETIHAD STADIUM — Who knows if we will see them in Istanbul because the latter stages of the European Cup do funny things to the legs and minds of Pep Guardiola’s disciples. There might even be a second-leg collapse, although it would take something seismic.
But hear this: of the 398 matches that Guardiola has been in charge of this expensive, expansive team, they might never have played this well. Bayern Munich are one of the pillars of this competition. The marble was first chipped away and then attacked with sledgehammers.
There is no way to say this without sounding disrespectful, but let’s not let that stop us: these are the games these clubs live for. Bayern and Manchester City have not and will not win their domestic title every season, but there will always be another chance and the view from the top of those mountains have become familiar. It is the rarefied air of springtime football in the Champions League that both can really locate their raison d’etre.
There is a more uncharitable spin, of course, one that covers the deliberate destruction of domestic competition and the line between success and failure distilled to a few moments on a few midweek knockout nights. But the effect is the same. And for all the despondency over where football is headed, if you love this game then fixtures like this demand to be enjoyed in their own context: two brilliant teams that have been tactically lectured and yet produce football that is pinballing and freewheeling to the naked eye.
It was a truly magnificent match. Manchester City had the ball and the territory and just enough control to trick you into thinking that this was no contest. Bayern lay just out of shot, plotting their lightning fast counters and hoping to soak up the pressure well enough for them to matter when they came. They did not come after a collapse; they came before one.
Fifteen seconds before Rodri got the ball 25 yards out from goal, it arrived at his feet a little further out and a little more under his feet. The customary shouts of “Shoooooot” came from optimistic supporters, but you scoffed at their naivety. This is Manchester City, mate. There are better options than a defensive midfielder taking a potshot from that dist…. Ah. As you were.
Do not underestimate how thoroughly demoralising it must be to play against Manchester City and for that to happen. You control every controllable, lock all the doors and place a guard on every corner. You refuse to make the mistake of thinking that it’s worth you pressing high up the pitch and instead do the right thing, sitting deep and repelling this team of bells and whistles. At which point they simply pass the ball about for a bit and an ostensibly defensive player scores his first ever Champions League goal with his weaker foot from outside the box.
RODRI'S FIRST-EVER #UCL GOAL
— Football on BT Sport (@btsportfootball) April 11, 2023
Unreal strike from the Man City midfielderpic.twitter.com/u7F8p3uQna
We must talk about Rodri, not least because he is an exceptional player to watch live. We are used to describing midfielders as the heartbeat of an XI. Rodri is more of a nervous system, reaching into and across every match. He doesn’t so much leave his fingerprints on high-profile contests as giant footprints like the T-Rex in Jurassic Park leaves by the side of the tour vehicle.
The work without the ball is ludicrous. In the first hour of Tuesday’s first leg, Manchester City gained possession through whichever means necessary 44 times. Rodri alone was responsible for 14 of those. And when he gets it, fierce competition instantly switches into sultry passer and swaggering midfield saunterer. He is everything, everywhere, all at once. Kalvin Phillips may be peeved that he is struggling for minutes since his move. Just sit back and watch like the rest of us, fella. And you get paid more to do it.
Who knows yet whether Thomas Tuchel’s Bayern is an upgrade on Julian Nagelsmann’s, but if ever a team matched their coach’s touchline demeanour, it was them. Tuchel charged and ducked and screamed and threw his arms around as if trying to combine the experience of every English game he has missed since his Chelsea sacking. Bayern were a highwire act in defence and ultimately soundly beaten.
Questions will be asked, as they are whenever Bayern don’t win a football match. It was that highwire act that killed Bayern, not least because Dayot Upamecano was the only outfield player in the game who seemed to be unable to read it at double speed. He was at fault for at least one goal, but his uncertainty spread to those in front and behind him.
But let us not lead nor end with any negative inflection. With two minutes of normal time remaining, a ball was played down the channel for a winger or wide forward to run onto, as they did. And who was that winger? John Stones, who 90 seconds earlier had slid to win a challenge near his own box. Stones controlled the ball, spun and casually knocked a pass to Bernardo Silva behind him. It was that kinda night. This is that kinda team.
from Football - inews.co.uk https://ift.tt/iPdcg6H
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