Rise of a Football God

"ZINEDINE SAM!!!"

"ZINEDINE SAM!!!"

"Bear witness to greatness!"

"See it, live it, witness it!"

"2 freekicks in succession? That's a sign of greatness, that's a sign of footballing royalty, we are in the presence of the King!"

"Samuel Moses is in a level of his own!"

As Sam charged towards the corner flag, this time, he did the calma celebration to try taming the rapturous Spotify Camp Nou crowd but this time, it didn't work. The fans were just too excited.

"Sam!" "Sam!" "Sam!"

The Sam chants broke out again at the Spotify Camp Nou.

The atmosphere in this stadium was electric.

And while Barcelona celebrated, on the other side, Manchester City writhed in agony. Ruben Dias in particular was still incensed, gesticulating wildly as he showed his displeasure at the referee's previous decision to blow the foul.

And then, the came continued.

FWEEE!

Manchester City may be trailing now, but it was just by 1 goal.

Maybe, just maybe they still had a chance.

That maybe was all Ruben Dias needed to rally his team again for one final all-out charge. In those final minutes, Manchester City played like a club possessed.

Phil Foden who had been quiet for large swathes of this game finally came to live, weaving in and out of the Barca defense.

And finally, he started throwing his trademark outside the box shots.

None of them worked tonight though, at least not yet.

Marc Andre Ter Stegen was in amazing form and most importantly, the defense ahead of him defended him like their lives depended on it.

Maybe they were tired, but Barca's stalwart defense all season didn't show weakness as they tackled every loose ball, intercepted every pass, and closed down every opposition player with rugged determination and tirelessness.

The intensity of the game in the final minutes was like steam; energetic, fiery.

Not just Phil Foden, Kevin De Bruyne kept on doing his thing also as he took it to another level, not just throwing passes now but also unleashing trademark outside the box shots at every opportunity he got.

Ikay Gundogan kept on doing his thing, pinging the ball around and then in the 78th minute, Pep Guardiola finally did something that he almost never did.

He pulled the button, decisively flipping the game over.

The Catalan coach made a radical team change, taking off Ikay Gundogan and introducing Bernardo Silva. He also took off Omar Marmoush, introducing Rico Lewis as he didn't stop at just substitutions, but also a tactical overhaul.

From the 4-4-2 formation that Manchester City started with, they changed to a radically flexible 3-5-2 or 4-5-1 formation.

When in possession, it was a 3-5-2 formation as John Stones advanced into midfield, playing a makeshift number 8. Role while Phil Foden advances further up to join Erling Haaland in attack in Marmoush's absence.

And when out of possession, the team morphs, reverting back to a solid 4-5-1 formation to defend.

For the final 10 minutes of the game, Manchester City was dangerous.

The heart of every Barcelona fan on the stadium felt like it was being tightened by a wrench, the tension was that palpable.

Badump! Badump!

Their hearts beat drums of war at every Man City attack.

They shook in trepidation every time Erling Haaland got the ball.

Pep Guardiola seemed to have taken the nice Haaland out of the pitch, leaving an evil, anti-hero Haaland on the pitch who did not shy from playing dirty, abusing his physicality, pushing and shoving just to scavenge a chance.

He did scavenge some, but Ter Stegen was at the top of his game, playing like a prime Thibaut Courtois in between those posts.

It was an end-to-end game, a game of non-stop excitement.

80 minutes, no goal…

81 minutes, no goal…

82 minutes, Haaland's shot hit the bar.

83 minutes, no goal…

84 minutes, De Bruyne's shot is pushed over the bar for a corner.

85 minutes, the corner kick was played and Ruben Dias rose highest, planting a header that missed the goal by mere inches.

"F*CK!" The Portuguese cursed in English before charging back to defend.

86 minutes, no goal…

87 minutes, no goal…

88 minutes, no goal…

89 minutes, no goal…

90 minutes, no goal…

5 minutes was added to the game.

By now, few FC Barcelona fans could stay seated in the massive stadium.

Majority of them felt like they were sitting on pin needles and so, they stood up, hoping, praying for their team even as they kept up the support by roaring at the top of their lungs.

Every Man City touch was ridiculed with loud boos, while ever Barca touch was encouraged with wild cheers and chants.

It was chaos, it was war, it was madness.

90 plus 1 minute, no goal…

90 plus 2 minute, Phil Foden received a cut back pass from Erling Haaland who burst into the Barcelona 18-yard box, his quick feet enabling him to wiggle through players in tight space like they were not there, until…

WHOOSH!

…Until Ronald Araujo's no-nonsense defending swept the Englishman off his feet but since he made solid contact with the ball, it was not a foul.

Barca started a counterattack, but the big man Rodri cut it short.

He passed to Kevin De Bruyne who received it, controlled it, and hit an instinctive cross into the box, into Erling Haaland's path.

Haaland chased after the ball, Pau Cubarsi chased Haaland.

Haaland went ahead of the Barca defender, trying to awkwardly volley the ball in even as Ter Stegen reacted but before Haaland could hit the ball, Cubarsi, the young Barca center back dove into the ball's path, recklessly putting his head on the way to clear the ball to the side.

Bang!

Haaland's leg connected to the young player's head with power!

"…!" The stadium froze.

Alarm! Shock…

The medic rushed into the field, attending to the young player.

A minute or 2 later, Pau Cubarsi rose back to his feet with a bandage covering his head. He was adamant to continue.

Haaland didn't receive a card. Afterall, he never knew the young defender would be that reckless, he was aiming for the ball all along.

It was already past the 90 plus 5th minute, but the referee didn't blow the whistle yet due to the delay.

90 plus 6 minutes, no goal…

90 plus 7 minutes, no goal…

90 plus 8 minutes…

FWEEEE!

Not the final whistle, a freekick.

Rodri swept Raphinha off his feet in an overzealous challenge uncharacteristic of the Spanish midfielder, earning a straight red card.

The foul took place more than 30 yards away from the Man City goal.

Sam and Raphinha stood before the ball.

"Wow, what do we have here?"

"Another freekick".

"Surely, it's too far away from goal, he wouldn't try it right?"

Tick! Tock!

Time ticked.