The magic came in the endgame. Around the 80th minute, not far from Belgium’s box, Rodri’s ball found Lamine Yamal. Three Belgium players converged on him. He dropped his shoulder to his right, like hypnotised followers of a cult guru, they followed the sway of his deceitful shoulders; Yamal paused and twisted his body in the opposition direction, leaving the defenders off-balance. The reinforcements flew in. From the corner of the eye, he found Pedro Porro. He made a step forward, as though he was taking on the tussle with the Belgians, but conjured a gorgeous back-heel to Porro.
The inventive pass came to nothing. But the moment captured the devilishness of Yamal. The tournament has not been his yet, he has struggled to hit the Euro crescendo; he has scored just a goal and is yet to register an assist. But he is here, and in fits and flashes, slowly rediscovering the player he once was, and the player that the world wants to see. The quarterfinal against Belgium was his best outing of the World Cup, where he discovered his blithe spirit, his slippery speed, the satin touches and the joie de vivre. He did not score a goal, but was the most captivating player in a circumspect battle of wits. That’s the beauty of Yamal too. There would be days when he might not score a goal or produce an assist, but he would still offer joy to his beholders.
It took only two minutes into the game to break the Belgian press and slalom up-field. The panicked left-back Maxim De Cuyper copped a foul to stop him. But hope brimmed in the stands. It could be the afternoon Yamal unshackles. Thereafter, whenever de Cuyper and Yamal faced-off, Kevin de Bruyne and Jeremy Doku would hurry to assist him. Doku is a bona fide trickster himself, but Yamal duped him into a back-heeled nutmeg that had the Belgian transfixed. To stop him from wreaking damage, Belgians had to obstruct or soft-foul him.
Yamal wave
The Yamal wave began to rise in the arena; the chants rang like a chorus from a spiritual retreat centre. Belgium sensed fear —Leandro Trossard dragged him down, and luckily escaped without a card. It seemed as though his only objective was to humiliate his adversaries with his obscene trickery. He made a turn on the touchline, a svelte, frictionless swivel like in salsa. that made de Bruyne, a sublime player himself, watch him admiringly. He even turns his rivals into fans.
After pulling off a trick, he would smile mischievously. He would smile when the goalkeeper saves his shots, or when it flies narrowly wide. He nearly pulled off a typical goal of his, dancing into the box and curling the ball into the post. But he didn’t get the required whip into his shot. “Just a millimetre,” he would gesture at his teammates. He would hit the target thrice, but bereft of the stinging wattage his left instep could produce.
Power, a missing element
That power is perhaps the missing ingredient in his game. It would come, for he is so glittering a player to not keep shining forever. “We have to keep in mind he’s coming off the back of an injury. Now, heading into a crucial week, he’s ready to perform at his best and is motivationally prepared,” his manager Luis de la Fuente said in the press conference.