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In another time not so long ago, a draw at home would have been almost a noose around Atlético's neck.
Much more, after having drawn against United what seemed like a perfect sketch to appear smiling at Old Trafford.
The rojiblancos lacked steam in that last British bugle call that ended up blurring the goal of the best
Joao Félix
.
The Champions League found an outgoing spring Atlético in February.
A team that, for much of the evening, had nothing to do with that of some horrible previous passages that are still fighting to erase from memory.
“Fly Atleti”, asked the Metropolitan tier with a formidable mosaic, after two years without experiencing a European tie.
And the rojiblancos must have pointed it out to the letter because that was exactly what happened, as an unbeatable staging in Europe.
Doubts and fears do not lead to anything good.
And it was Joao Félix, who usually goes into a trance in the great continental competition, who flew between
Varane
and
Maguire
to unleash the fireworks.
The formula, so simple, so primitive, was lethal.
His great friend Lodi, converted into a winger for the occasion, mocked Lindelof
for the first time (there would still be a few more)
and placed the ball on the Portuguese's head.
Of that 7 that he seems to have found himself, after the flashes of him in Pamplona.
De Gea
, in his first episode against Atlético that catapulted him, made the statue against the accurate header.
It was that right wing of Manchester United, the corner of the visitors' sleeplessness and some of the local joys.
The Swedish Lindelof could not cope and
Lodi
, much more comfortable with
Reinildo
trying to get the fang back, insisted on proving Simeone right with that bet.
The Swedish side was the target.
Rashford
's violent stride
required solutions.
And that, accurate, was the one found by the local team.
Discreet Christian
The roar of the Metropolitan, as expected, was taken by
Cristiano Ronaldo
, who
Savic
did not stop throwing his encouragement as soon as the occasion arose.
But Jan
Oblak
lived quietly for much of the night.
Those clouds that Ronaldo once generated are not so today, at 37 years old and submerged in a rather out of tune 2022.
Atlético's heart was beating hard.
And he did it, to a large extent, thanks to that spinal cord that
Koke
's loss forced to illuminate.
Herrera
, who already left good signs at El Sadar, warmed up again against United, despite the fact that he never seems to do it, with that tiresome and leaden jog.
The Mexican moved the rudder delicately.
And he got it, too, because next to him was
Kondogbia
who, far from focusing on those thankless tasks of stewardship, dusted off all sorts of Zidanesque delicacies.
Both outclassed
Pogba
and
Fred
, the pair from the British midfield.
Fate could have raised
Vrsaljko
again , decisive in Porto with his defensive recital as an improvised central defender.
The Croatian, in another blush to that United right lane, another one from Lodi, found himself with a ball poisoned by a defender who ended up hitting the crossbar, when the only option seemed to be a goal.
Reinildo's slip
Atlético sharpened his leg and widened his lungs.
His face, severe, is what was expected of this team since the beginning of the course.
At least he decided to get it out of the drawer in time.
It was Joao who scored, yes, but it was Correa who did not stop scratching Varane's spirits.
Or in Maguire's.
The Argentine rolled on the ground to leave his soul, that football is also a bit of that.
Griezmann
reappeared
to give Joao Félix a break (unnecessary), acclaimed at his farewell.
Just like Lody.
They seemed to have drawn the silhouette of a small and great conquest, on the way to Old Trafford.
But it was United, reinvigorated by Rangnick's changes, who found a window of counterattack.
Bruno Fernandes
led it,
Elanga
settled it
, while
Reinildo
cursed his fate again and
Oblak
was carried away by demons.
The game was long for Atlético, which ended with United hanging from his back.
Luis Suárez
did not even appear on the lawn of the Metropolitan.
Now a draw at home is not a tragedy.
Everything will start (almost) from scratch in Manchester.
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