LAST 16
Croatia 0-0 Portugal (Portugal win 4-3 on penalties)
Duncan Gordon
Aviva Stadium, Dublin, Ireland
Tuesday 30th June
It is not often that a scoreless draw gets the heart pumping but this ill-tempered clash on a wild Irish night will undoubtedly go down as one of Euro 2020’s most entertaining matches. We witnessed 120 minutes of blood, sweat and tears, before the winning penalty kick was belted into the roof of the net by Cristiano Ronaldo, a true Titan of the game on his own personal odyssey of redemption. The moment felt preordained, written in the footballing stars.
Portugal, European Champions. Croatia, World Cup finalists. These two star-crossed football teams are dripping with talent. Magicians in midfield, rock hard defenders and bags of self-belief built on their recent successes. Both experienced mixed results in the group stages. One defeat and two victories for the Croatians and a win, a loss and a draw for the Portuguese. Nonetheless, the largely positive performances of these countries have given their adoring nations back home cause for optimism.
Portugal started the stronger, confidently keeping hold of the ball in midfield. Ruben Neves of Wolverhampton Wanderers retained his starting place and linked wonderfully well with Manchester United’s wizard Bruno Fernandes, two football brains as sharp as any in the world. Portugal manager Fernando Santos would have told them to go out and have fun, while moustachioed William Carvalho prowled about in front of his defence, ready to pounce on any Croatian intruders.
The crowd’s first taste of blood came after 8 minutes, as Chelsea midfielder Mateo Kovacic nicked the ball off the irrepressible Bernardo Silva of Manchester City, who was supporting Ronaldo from the right wing tonight. Carvalho sniffed the danger, snarled and charged at his enemy, taking the ball and player so ferociously that Kovacic was flipped into the air and landed on his face. Queue screams of indignation from the Croatia players as a melee ensues, with handbags swinging left, right and centre. The Portuguese hard man was lucky to escape with a yellow card, to whistles from the outraged Croatia fans at the Aviva Stadium, who comprised most of tonight’s attendance.
The Croatians have played all their games in this tournament on British and Irish soil, with fixtures in London and Glasgow behind them already. Many supporters have set up camp in London, using it as a base to watch their team and explore the countries of these islands. The more optimistic of them have planned for a month-long stay, convinced their national team will stick around to contest the semis and final at Wembley in less than two weeks’ time. One young man, clad in the iconic red-and-white checked colours of his country, told me how much he had spent on an Airbnb for a month in London. The price made my eyes water, or perhaps it was the Guinness on his breath.
The Portuguese were less numerous, having already forked out for a week in Budapest and Munich. The ones that had made it to Dublin spent the day shivering on the open-top buses that dart around the city, their attempts to use their claret and green flags and scarves to keep themselves warm were futile. Packing for a summer in central Europe is not the same as packing for an Irish summer.
What really made them shiver was a resounding crack of the crossbar on 20 minutes as Luka Modric put his laces through the ball following a lay off from striker Ante Rebic. Following his gorgeous goal in Glasgow, both the local fans and Croatians had been urging Modric to shoot every time he touched the ball, and this time the little man gave in to temptation. He put his hands to his headband and grinned along with the crowd after that long-range effort came so close.
One man who was not grinning was our troubled hero Cristiano Ronaldo. The television cameras caught him shaking his head in disgust after that effort. You might say it was disgust at his teammates for not closing down Modric sooner, but it felt more like scorn for the crowd choosing the Croatian as their star, the centre of attention. He would show them.
Ronaldo might have won all there is to win in this sport and became the overall top scorer at European Championships finals with his goal against Bulgaria in this, his fifth Euros. But it is never enough for him. He must be number one. And there has been talk recently, which he surely has taken note of, about whether he is really that important to his national team anymore. From that moment Ronaldo took it upon himself to try to win the game single-handedly. He dropped deeper, picking the ball up sooner from his midfield teammates, to try to take someone on and have a shot. I would not say it to his face, but Ronaldo does not always have the turn of pace to beat a man these days, and his interventions were stifling Portugal’s attacks. After one particularly wild effort, Bernardo Silva suggested to his captain that he might have been better off passing to him, rather than shooting. Ronaldo snapped at him so violently that Silva flinched and skulked away in shock. Ronaldo ended the first half with seven shots, and just one on target, as he grew more and more frustrated.
When promising moves were not cut out by Ronaldo’s off-colour efforts, they were abruptly ended by reckless tackles. Leicester City’s Ricardo Pereira was cautioned for a steamroller of a sliding challenge on Ivan Perisic and Dejan Lovren got his name taken for clattering poor old Bernardo Silva, a man half his size.
Silva must just have wanted to hear the half-time whistle. And it soon came. The two teams jogged towards the tunnel at half-time bickering with each other. Spanish referee Carlos del Cerro Grande had to intervene at one point, as Rebic put his arm around Ronaldo in mock consolation for his wayward attempts at goal in the first-half, causing Ronaldo to shove him into his own teammates with one arm and throw the other in the air in anger.
The break did nothing to cool hot heads. Just after the restart Mateo Kovacic cynically decided to get his own back on Carvalho with a kick to the calf. Perhaps he saw just how dangerous Carvalho’s tackle was on the monitor at half-time. It spawned another melee and another impediment to the game’s rhythm.
Portugal were involved in the infamous Battle of Nuremburg in 2006, when the referee dished out 16 yellow cards and four reds in their World Cup match against the Netherlands. Tonight’s dirty ding-dong in Dublin pales in comparison but by the end of the 120 minutes the exhausted officials had awarded 10 yellows and dismissed a player from each team.
Those red cards came on the hour as Lille centre-back Jose Fonte took out Rebic with a sly trip, to prevent the forward from beating him in a dangerous counterattack. Rebic made the most of it, writhing on the floor in faux agony as if sliced in half with an axe, and Fonte lent down close to his face to let him know what he thought of his theatrics. Ante Rebic is a rather frightening-looking man and something Fonte said made him snap. He leaped up and headbutted Fonte, right on the nose. As blood spurted from the defender’s shocked face, Rebic just stared at him in a psychotic, silent rage. An indignant William Carvalho marched over and attempted to throttle Rebic, before three of his own teammates eventually managed to peel him off the striker. Both men were sent off for their acts of violence and the game continued in front of a somewhat shocked audience.
Still the fouls racked up, and the shots from Ronaldo continued to endanger fans behind the goals. Few clear-cut chances were created, but one golden opportunity did fall for Barcelona’s Ivan Rakitic with ten minutes left, who sliced high and wide with Portuguese keeper Rui Patricio floored and the goal gaping.
Extra-time was a thirty-minute slog, as the more experienced players out there just made sure the match was not thrown away through some mistake. Or perhaps they simply did not have the legs to keep chasing the ball. With a few minutes remaining, the fouls ceased, and a sense of dread invaded the crowd, and both sets of players. A hush descended over the stadium as the terror of the penalty shootout loomed.
The players sat on the pitch, receiving treatment for cramp, or some other wound of battle. Meanwhile the two managers paced among them, ostensibly trying to rouse their troops for the shootout, but really searching the broken faces for signs of a willing volunteer to face the roulette.
Ronaldo stood apart from his teammates, turned away from them and looking down, with his hands on his hips and shaking his head. Was he replaying all those poor shots on goal? Was he questioning whether the critics were right, that he might be past it? Or was it all part of the show? Eventually, he lifted his head and turned back to his team and tapped his manager on the shoulder to whisper something in his ear.
Croatia to go first. Modric scores, Bruno Fernandes does likewise. Marcelo Brozovic put his away and substitute Joao Felix does the same for Portugal. Then Nikola Vlasic has his penalty saved by Rui Patricio, while Bruno Fernandes scores. Perisic steps up and skies it. 3-2 to Portugal. Ruben Neves has the chance to win it for Portugal. His effort is tame and is saved by Livakovic. The Portuguese players were ready to celebrate but collapse in despair at the miss. Except Ronaldo. Now Dejan Lovren scores to make it 3-3. It is Ronaldo’s turn. He had whispered in Fernando Santos’s ear that he would take the fifth penalty. Ronaldo makes the long walk from the halfway line drowning in whistles from the crowd. His tempestuous performance had not endeared him to the locals. He takes a few steps back, hands on hips again, breaths in deeply. The ball rockets into the corner of the net, the shirt is off, muscles tensed, veins bulging and Ronaldo roars into the sky. The footballing gods had redeemed their fallen angel once again. Portugal’s tournament, and Ronaldo’s story, continue.
Man of the Match: Rui Patríco
Rebic, Carvalho sent off on 60 mins