On Real Madrid's bench, Zidane's face had gone dark, his expression sour enough to make it look as though he had swallowed something bitter.
He was furious, and it was not difficult to understand why.
Madrid's back line had been opened far too easily, while at the other end, his forwards had failed to put Dortmund under the kind of pressure he expected from a side wearing the white shirt.
This was not the situation Zidane wanted to see.
Inside the Westfalenstadion, even the travelling Madrid supporters had fallen quiet.
The away end, which had been singing with confidence earlier, now stood in a tense daze, struggling to accept the scoreline unfolding in front of them.
Online, the mood among Madrid fans was not much better.
@MadridistaHQ: This is genuinely worrying. Dortmund aren't even building slowly, they're just slicing through us every time they break.
@LosBlancosLive: Every Dortmund counterattack feels like a knife to the ribs. One pass, one run, and suddenly Madrid are scrambling again.
@RM_TillIDie: Are we seriously about to lose this? Come on, lads. Wake up!
@WhiteWallMadrid: Just get the ball to Theodore. I don't care how. Give it to him and let him drag us back into this.
@BernabeuFaithful: We've still got time, but this only changes if Theodore starts getting involved properly.
Almost without anyone saying it out loud, Madrid's hopes began to gather around one man.
Theodore Bjorn.
...
After the restart, Madrid pushed more bodies forward, their shape growing braver and more desperate with every passing minute.
There was no room left for hesitation now. If they wanted to rescue this match, they had to attack, even if it meant leaving themselves exposed at the back.
Benzema dropped short and laid the ball into Theodore's path.
The moment Theodore received it, the Dortmund supporters inside the Westfalenstadion erupted into a wall of boos.
They understood exactly where Madrid's real danger came from. Theodore was the attacking core, the player who could turn a half-chance into a goal and a dead passage of play into panic.
Every touch he took was met with whistles, jeers, and a thunderous roar from the Yellow Wall, all of it meant to drag him out of rhythm.
But Theodore had heard far worse before.
The noise rolled over him without leaving a mark.
He took one quick glance, then shifted the ball out to Ødegaard on the left before immediately driving toward the penalty area.
Dortmund's defenders reacted at once.
The second Theodore moved into the box, their awareness sharpened, because everyone on that pitch knew how dangerous he could be in the air.
Ødegaard received the ball wide on the left, in the perfect position to whip in an early cross with his stronger foot.
The moment Theodore made his run, Ødegaard shaped his body as if he was going to send the ball in first time.
Mateu Morey read the danger and rushed out quickly, throwing himself across the line of the supposed cross.
But Ødegaard had sold him a feint.
The cross never came. Instead, he carried the ball forward, using that split-second hesitation to steal an extra yard near the byline.
Only then did he finally lift the ball into the middle.
The cross bent over the first line of defenders and dropped sharply toward the center of the box.
Theodore was arriving.
But Dortmund had prepared for him.
Hummels and Akanji were both there, two center-backs with the size, strength, and aerial presence to make even Theodore fight for every inch.
Theodore still managed to rise through the pressure and make first contact, but with both defenders leaning into him and disturbing his balance, he could not generate the power he wanted.
The header dropped comfortably into Hitz's gloves.
Rob Palmer: "Madrid do create the opening, and unsurprisingly it comes through Theodore's movement in the box. He gets there first, but Dortmund make sure he never gets a clean header away."
Terry Gibson: "That's good defending. Hummels and Akanji don't have to win it outright; they just have to make the header awkward, and they do exactly that. Madrid are leaning heavily on Theodore's aerial threat, but Dortmund look ready for it."
Rob Palmer: "For all Madrid's possession, Hitz has still not had to make the kind of save that really changes the temperature of the match."
...
Hitz wasted no time after claiming the ball. He moved to the edge of his area and launched it long toward the front line.
Dortmund's plan was clear now.
Counter quickly. Counter directly. And if there was space, find Haaland.
Everyone knew Haaland's profile by now.
At 190 centimeters, he looked like the kind of striker who should dominate the air, but heading was not the strongest part of his game.
His real weapons were far more frightening: speed, power, and that terrifying ability to turn a single ball into a one-on-one within seconds.
If Haaland got isolated against a center-back, the defender was in trouble.
Hitz's pass dropped toward Haaland, and Ramos moved across to challenge him.
Ramos won the first contact, but before he could clear properly, Haaland drove into him with all that raw strength.
The collision knocked Ramos off balance, and in the next instant, Haaland was onto the loose ball.
Michael Oliver let it go.
As a Premier League referee, Oliver was never the type to blow for every shoulder-to-shoulder challenge, and this one stayed within the kind of physical contact he was prepared to allow.
Rob Palmer: "Haaland has shrugged off Ramos, and suddenly Dortmund are away again!"
Terry Gibson: "This is exactly what Madrid feared. Once Haaland gets that ball in front of him, he turns the whole pitch into a race, and not many defenders enjoy racing him."
Rob Palmer: "He's into the penalty area now, Courtois comes out—Haaland strikes!"
Haaland opened his body and hammered a left-footed shot toward goal.
The strike had power, but not enough control.
The ball flew just over the crossbar.
Rob Palmer: "Over the bar! What a chance for Dortmund to make it three!"
Terry Gibson: "That's a let-off for Madrid. A huge one. Haaland has done the hard part with the strength and the run, but he's gone for pure power when he probably had time to pick the corner."
Rob Palmer: "Had that gone in, you wonder whether Madrid's night might already have been beyond saving."
The score stayed 2–0.
Dortmund still led, but Haaland's miss gave Madrid a thin thread of hope to cling to.
On X, fans reacted instantly.
@MadridZoneLive: Thank you, Haaland. Seriously. That should've been 3–0.
@UCLNights: Haaland just spared Madrid there. You cannot waste chances like that in a knockout tie.
@BlancoPulse: Why has he smashed that? Far corner was open. Courtois was already committing.
@BVBWatch: That was almost the kill shot. Dortmund's counters are absolutely brutal tonight.
@TacticalFever: Bellingham and Haaland are so young, but the physical impact they bring is ridiculous. Madrid look terrified every time Dortmund break.
The match continued, and the noise inside the Westfalenstadion only grew louder.
Dortmund's fans did not turn on Haaland for the miss. If anything, they roared louder for him, applauding the run, the strength, the sheer chaos he had caused in Madrid's defense.
They could feel their team had Madrid wobbling, and every attack now seemed to drag the home crowd closer to delirium.
On the Madrid bench, Zidane rubbed both hands over his bald head, his frustration impossible to hide.
The truth was, he was running out of solutions.
He had already sent out the strongest eleven available to him, yet Madrid still looked second-best in too many areas.
Dortmund were faster in transition, sharper in duels, and more dangerous every time the ball turned over.
There was no obvious tactical switch that could suddenly make the problem disappear.
...
While Zidane was still trapped in that frustration, Dortmund came again.
This time, the danger arrived down the right.
Sancho received a pass from Emre Can and immediately went at Carvajal, his feet dancing over the ball with the easy confidence of a winger who believed he could beat his man whenever he wanted.
Carvajal stayed tight, trying to hold his ground, but Sancho kept shifting his rhythm, mixing feints with little touches that forced the Madrid full-back to keep adjusting.
His eyes never left Carvajal's body, waiting for the smallest change in balance.
Then it came.
The moment Carvajal leaned slightly toward the outside, Sancho cut inside.
One touch was enough.
The space opened, and Sancho burst through it.
Casemiro hurried across from midfield, trying to shut the door before Sancho could reach the edge of the box, but the Dortmund winger did not wait for contact.
He got the shot away early, striking through the ball with venom.
It smashed against the crossbar.
The whole stadium gasped.
Rob Palmer: "Sancho! Off the bar! That was almost a wonderful Dortmund goal!"
Terry Gibson: "Brilliant from Sancho. The footwork, the timing of the cut inside, the confidence to take it on before Casemiro gets there—it's all excellent. He's just a fraction too high with the finish."
Rob Palmer: "Madrid are living dangerously. Very dangerously."
The rebound dropped into a dangerous area, and Benzema fought desperately to reach the second ball, but Hummels read it well.
Calm, experienced, and under no pressure to be clever, he simply cleared his lines with a heavy boot.
The ball came back into midfield, where Dahoud was first to react.
Dortmund had started to lay siege to Real Madrid.
Rob Palmer: "Listen to this stadium. The Westfalenstadion is absolutely alive, and Dortmund are feeding off every bit of it."
Terry Gibson: "Madrid are in a strange position here. They're the side chasing the game, but Dortmund are the ones playing with all the momentum. Every second ball, every duel, every transition—it feels like Dortmund are getting there first."
Rob Palmer: "And if you walked into this match without seeing the scoreline, you might think Dortmund were the team that needed the next goal."
Dahoud steadied himself in midfield and quickly moved the ball to the right.
Reus received it.
The once golden-haired boy of Dortmund was now thirty. His face still carried that familiar charm, but time and injuries had left their marks.
His hair had thinned, his explosive pace was no longer what it once had been, and the endless setbacks throughout his career had kept him from fully reaching the peak that once seemed destined for him.
Even so, his quality had not vanished.
This season, Reus had still contributed seven goals and six assists in the Bundesliga, and when the ball arrived at his feet, Madrid could not afford to treat him like a fading memory.
Marcelo stepped out quickly to confront him, cautious and wary of being beaten on the outside.
But Reus had no intention of dribbling.
The moment the ball settled, he opened his body and whipped a right-footed cross into the penalty area.
The delivery flew toward the near post, where Haaland was already preparing to jump. But once again, Madrid had the advantage in the air.
Haaland could bully defenders when the ball was on the ground or in front of him, yet against Varane in an aerial duel, he had no clear edge at all.
Varane rose cleanly and headed it away.
Rob Palmer: "Varane gets there first, and Madrid survive another Dortmund delivery."
Terry Gibson: "That's the one area where Haaland still doesn't really scare you as much as he should. He has the size, of course, but his timing and heading technique aren't at the same level as his running power."
Rob Palmer: "The second ball drops to Modrić. Now then—can Madrid finally counter?"
Modrić brought the ball under control, and suddenly there was a flicker of space ahead of him.
On X, Madrid fans immediately knew what they wanted.
@MadridComps: Luka, don't think twice. Find Theodore.
@BlancoEngine: Give it to Theodore early. That's the only way Madrid break this press.
@UCLMadridista: If there's a way back into this match, it starts with Theodore getting the ball between the lines.
@TheodoreEra: Just release him. One good touch from Theodore and Dortmund will panic.
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