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[SECOND HALF – 55: 22| Stadion Widzewa Łódź | Time: 70:00 | England 1 – 3 Germany]
The crowd held its breath as Luca came charging out, arms spread wide, and stance lowered as Musiala got closer. He took one breath as the world around him seemed to come into focus, and then he struck. He opened his body to shape for a curled shot to the far post—but instead, clipped it low and quick at the near side.
Unbehaun had already committed, leaning toward the expected trajectory. His cleats skidded as he tried to correct himself, but it was too late. The ball zipped under his arm and smacked the back of the net. "GOOOAAAL! MUSIALA!" Eddie Hall's voice cracked through the broadcast, nearly drowned by the roar inside the stadium. "England are BACK in this final! The 70th minute—this game is alive!"
Paul Garner let out a whistle. "The young lion roars. That finish was cold. Calm. Calculated. That's why the big clubs are already circling him. Jamal is made for the big moments, where the words of his U-13 coach."
"And what a big moment it is, Jamal Musiala, a name to remember as England glimpses a chance at raising that cup at the end of the match." Eddie's voice resounded through the speakers of the viewers. "Ladies and Gentlemen, if you are just tuning, the score stands at 2-3 in favour of the German side."
Musiala slid on his knees toward the corner flag, arms spread wide, his face alight with adrenaline and joy. Declan and Jude piled on first, followed by Saka and Foden. The bench was up. Keith Downing pumped a fist on the sideline while James animatedly clapped his hands in joy.
On the German bench, Coach Baum stood frozen for a moment, then clapped slowly before barking orders toward his midfield. "Konzentrieren! Weiter! Don't drop your heads!"
The game had turned more tumultuous following Jamal's goal, especially with the midfield battle intensifying. Declan Rice and Jude Bellingham began pressing higher, squeezing Angelo Stiller's time on the ball. Musiala floated between the lines, constantly dragging Niklas Tauer out of position.
From the German backline, Bella-Kotchap barked instructions, motioning for Wirtz to drop deeper and help with the build-up. But the England press was suffocating now—waves of white shirts surged forward, fueled by belief and roaring fans. From the German backline, Bella-Kotchap barked instructions, motioning for Wirtz to drop deeper and help with the build-up.
But the England press was suffocating now—waves of white shirts surged forward, fuelled by belief and roaring fans. Rakim, who had gone quiet for a few minutes, came alive in the 76th. Receiving a switch of play from Stiller near the halfway line, he took on Declan Rice in a one-on-one. The crowd hushed as Rakim dropped his shoulder, then danced the ball through a Hocus Pocus move before flicking it around the side and accelerating forward like a slingshot.
Declan spun around, trying to recover, but Rakim was already gone, gliding past the centre circle with speed as his shadow cut long under the stadium lights. Seeing Teden Mengi stepping up to block his path forward, Rakim cut back towards the left flank with a swift Ronaldo chop. Diagonally charging up the field, he quickly came face to face with Reece James, who was side-stepping, angling his body to show him outward.
Reece James readied himself, his frame low and arms tucked, ready to pounce. He hasn't been able to convincingly stop him throughout the match, but he had been studying throughout, and he finally felt ready. Thus, he didn't bite at Rakim's feint inwards as he clocked the slight tilt of his left shoulder. The winger attempted a couple of step-overs as he continued to advance, but none of them made Reece nervous.
He bided his time despite feeling the rising tension all around him as they neared his box, teammates shouting instructions for him to step up or to stand his ground. But he couldn't hear any of that as his mind was now fully focused. He spotted his moment just after Rakim finished another step-over, only to scoop the ball to the left with the inside of his right foot.
Reece didn't jump that way but stood his ground, and in the next moment, it appeared the cut to the right turned into a reverse elastico. Without hesitation, he jumped forward with his foot outstretched, cleanly hitting the ball, breaking it free from Rakim's control. "Crucial interception from Reece James, and here comes the counter," Paul Gartner exclaimed over the cheering England fans just as Reece sent a quick pass forward to Jude.
Jude Bellingham barely had to adjust his stride as the ball zipped toward him. He brought it under control with a sublime first touch and immediately pivoted on the half-turn, evading Niklas Tauer, who lunged in late and missed. "Look at Jude go!" Eddie Hall cried as Bellingham surged forward, eyes scanning, heart thumping.
Greenwood dropped deep to link up, dragging Bella-Kotchap out of shape. At the same time, Saka darted inside, taking Ehlers with him and cracking open a lane down the left. Foden was already tearing into that space like a man with destiny breathing down his neck.
Jude didn't hesitate in sending a piercing diagonal through ball, splitting the German midfield with scalpel-like precision, landing perfectly at Foden's feet in stride. Foden's first touch was velvet, cushioning the pass as he turned into space. The German defenders scrambled to recover. Asta tried to close the gap, but Foden had already shifted the ball with a tight outside-of-the-boot flick, dragging the play further left.
With the ball now firmly at his feet and momentum behind him, Foden took one more glance toward the box. Greenwood was peeling toward the penalty spot, Saka was crashing the far post, and Musiala, just behind the front line, was making a late run toward the edge of the area. Asta stepped up to meet Foden, but it was too late.
He sliced a perfectly weighted pass into the half-space just outside the six-yard box, threading it between Ehlers and Bella-Kotchap. Greenwood managed to lose Bella-Kotchapin for a second in the scramble with a deft piece of footwork, and that was enough. One touch to settle the ball, and he was staring down the barrel of the gun with a panicked Luca Unbehaun staring down the muzzle.
This should have been a make-or-break moment for him, but suddenly Luca seemed larger than life with that ferocious stare as he came charging forward. Gritting his teeth, Greenwood swung his right foot through the ball with everything he had. It wasn't a delicate finish. It wasn't a placed curler. It was power—pure, violent power—driven high and straight toward the goal like a cannon shot from a man determined to rip through the net.
Luca Unbehaun didn't flinch. He sprang from his line like a sprung trap, throwing his body into the oncoming rocket. The ball flew straight at him, but with such velocity, it looked destined to rip through any obstacle. (Thud) It crashed against his left shoulder, the impact sending him flying backwards as the crowd gasped in shock.
The ball ricocheted up into the air, spinning wildly, and cleared the bar by a wide margin, much to the German fans' joy. They had felt their hearts stop the moment Greenwood appeared at the end of the ball and could only now breathe a sigh of relief.
"Unbehaun again!" Eddie Hall shouted. "That's a save made of iron! Greenwood absolutely lashed it, but Luca stood tall—what a stop!"
Paul Garner cut in, breathless, "That save right there is one he will want to remember for quite some time to come. If anyone wasn't convinced of why this young man is Coach Baum's first-choice keeper, that save right there should be the end of the conversation."
"You're right, he's definitely got the heart to be guarding his nation's goal, even if it is just the under-20 team." Eddie Hall intoned with an exasperated smile as the German keeper could be seen chewing out his defenders as his right hand clutched his left shoulder.
Greenwood stared after the ball, shoulders heaving, a cocktail of disbelief and frustration boiling under his breath. He'd caught it perfectly. Anyone else in between the sticks, and that would have been in. Foden ran over and patted his back, nodding. "Keep your head up, bro. He's not stopping the next one," he muttered.