• Direct match statistics

Another mood, another face. The rage finally released . Spain is infinite, a generation that feeds back, that learns from the past, that refuses to expire. The selection, in a master class of defense and in a final of pure temper, crushed Italy to return to being Phoenix. He didn't need the best Marc Gasol , nor the loosest Ricky . It was a choral Spain, of self-love, of Llull as a banner and Juancho as a hero. It is already in the quarterfinals and on Sunday against Serbia it will only be resolved whether as the first or second group.

He curled the curl, to delve deeper into the tension, in that game of peering into the abyss that causes so many hot flashes. Because Spain had to overcome the most frightening of the beginnings (5-15), the one that lengthened the very bad feelings, the one that made the worst fear. Yes, it is the same old story that has made this team unique, as epic as the greatest in history.

The selection needed a resurgence like this , not only because of the victory, but also because of its own identity, of which there had been no trace in the World Cup. That arreón of character that led to an immense, unstoppable, rebellious Llull. Accompanied by Ribas and Oriola , two others with self-love for the heavens. What an example. The second unit was the one that raised the night in Wuhan, the prozac of Spain.

Because dawn had been a blunder. The two figures of Spain out of hunk , Ricky spoiling his aggressiveness with the turnovers (four in the first half), Marc out of focus by Biligha, an athletic center, but barely rises 203 centimeters. Juancho had to take a short walk on the bench to focus (he felt wonderful) ... The team was in a maze and only Llull, despite his bandage on his right wrist, knew the way out.

But when the Balearic broke out it is as if Italy had seen a ghost. His paralysis came, a partial lap of 11-1 to match. And above all, the defense of Spain finally emerged, the lessons that Scariolo had been studying for so long, which is the team's vitamin, its identity, its religion now that there are fewer gods on our side. Just a couple of Gentile baskets and some arbitral decisions that made you lose your rhythm.

A little more success, less losses and more attention in the offensive rebound. Three details to polish, although then there are the proper names, the heroes of these parties that change lives. Perhaps Juancho never saw such a showcase and responded with an unprecedented greatness. His third quarter was of those who drive forever a trajectory. The ball to me, 10 points only interrupted by a triple of Claver -also monumental, essential leader of the rear-, those who made Spain more beautiful than ever, those who shot it (46-38, after a two plus one of Ricky), although Italy later managed to return to enter the final act in a handkerchief.

So he was going to continue, proof of weak hearts, to the same shore. It seemed that Italy was stretching, while Marc still did not score, and put four up with a triple of Gallinari (52-56). There it was, four minutes away, when a timeout of Scariolo was going to be the final revulsion . Patience and defense, two pillars to build empires. A partial 10-0, with the first, the only one, the one that did more justice, Marc Gasol's basket throughout the game. The ecstasy of a group that did it again. Spain is feared again, Spain is in the quarterfinals of a World Cup.

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