"Ah, Haaland!"
"That was actually a pretty good chance!"
"Yeah, if that had been Haller, there might have been a chance. Haaland wasn't ready for it..."
Having missed the headed chance, Haaland clasped both hands over his head.
He had held off Marquinhos's pressure, but failed to control his header.
Escribá lowered the right hand he had just raised and gritted his teeth.
He was wearing a padded jacket, yet sweat was running down his forehead.
"BVB!"
"Heja BVB!"
Borussia Dortmund certainly did not want to give an inch at home in the first leg, and the fans in the stands raised their cheers to their loudest.
The players on the pitch were in much the same state. Tang Ye was wound completely tight, every run from a teammate or opponent drawing his attention.
There was a chance!
Tang Ye suddenly accelerated, sprinting forward to intercept a pass between Paris Saint-Germain players before immediately sending it out to Sancho on the right.
Sancho...
He cut across to shake off Verratti for the moment, then chose to pass back to Piszczek and charged forward off the ball.
Bang!
Piszczek played a through ball!
"Push up!"
Tang Ye gestured for Pogba to take his position while he moved toward Sancho.
Sancho was one-on-one with Kurzawa, with Tang Ye waiting nearby for support.
Driving forward with the outside of his foot, then stepovers—Sancho gradually closed the gap to Kurzawa.
To the byline!
Sancho made as if he was going to the byline, but it was a feint.
The instant Kurzawa prepared to track him, Sancho nutmegged him with one touch.
A pass to Tang Ye!
It was a perfect pass. Tang Ye jumped and turned, cushioning his first touch as he cut inside.
He looked toward the far post!
Kimpembe stepped up. Tang