Oh, Mexico! Sensacional. On a sultry evening in Moscow, Hirving Lozano’s unforgettable goal in the 35th minute of this enthralling game catapulted Germany into a strange new world and coloured this sedate corner of the Russian capital in a vivid new way: the Luzhniki stadium became the Aztec on the Moskva river.
What an evening. From the first whistle, Mexico tore into the world champions Germany with a sense of adventure and fearlessness that bordered on impudent. Their game plan was simple and beautifully audacious: to have the composure to pass the ball through the Germans’ high press and then use the speed of Carlos Vela, Javier Hernandez and Chucky Lozano to run hard at their last line of defence.
Over 45 dreamlike minutes, it worked in a way that was extraordinary to behold.
“The phrase today was to play for the love of winning, not the fear of losing,” Juan Carlos Osario, their coach would say later.
“We had drawn up a plan six months back. Due to injuries we had to change some of our protagonists but we always thought of having two quick players on the wings. We chose Hirving who is a very quick player along with an offensive midfielder.”
True victims
And Lozano indeed ran riot along Germany’s left wing but it was their huge, imposing central defensive pair of Mats Hummels and Jerome Boateng who were the true victims of the strategy. It was as thrilling as it was unexpected: like a pair of lions being hunted by gazelles. Both men are imperious when Germany control the ball – and Germany always control the ball. Here, though, they repeatedly found themselves isolated by the lacerating runs from Carlos Vela and Miguel Layan, with Hernandez darting around in support. Around the stands, a murmur and then a roar of marvelled recognition travelled. Germany were in trouble.
“In an unfamiliar way we looked nervous and didn’t play the way we wanted to play,” admitted Joachim Loew, Germany’s dapper coach who seemed to have paled a little under the summer lustre.
“We will have to analyse why that was the case.In the first half we played very badly. We were not able to impose our usual way of playing attacking and our passing shots. We weren’t effective in the spaces and there were lost of counter attacks. We were very vulnerable because we lost balls in our forward movement.”
The Germans though, are box office. Before this tournament began, a common moan was that it wouldn’t feel the same without Italy. But it is impossible to imagine the show without Germany. We gazed down on them from the rafters of the Luzhniki, which was so sticky that it felt like a closed roof. The world champions are so familiar at this stage and winning football games is part of their DNA. There they were, immaculate in white. Loew looked as if he had just stepped out of a brochure for Breitling or some other sleek product. The German supporters waved their flags behind Manuel Neuer’s goal and the Bayern man himself personified the authority and reliability that the world has come to expect from Die Mannshaft: a sense that as long as Manuel is minding house, the economy will thrive, the euro cannot collapse and the land will be fine.
Something brewing
But the Mexicans, raised on the volatility of the peso, didn’t give a toss about all that European hauteur. All day around Red Square, there had been something brewing. The Mexicans were loud, triumphant and they came in costume: as banditos, as Aztecs on the beer, in ponchos and in sombrero, like a huge cast of extras from the Sergio Leone days of Westerns. They booed the world champions with every stately attack and took such a grip on the summer night that the Germans behind Neuer fell silent as the Mexicans repeatedly ripped their cover to shreds. Then Lozano scored: 22 years old, against the world champions: la vida loca.
“It’s the best goal I’ve ever scored in my entire life,” he enthused afterwards.
And, of course, it couldn’t continue all night. Germany imposed something of the familiar order and purpose in the second half and the opportunities began to fizz past Guillermo Ochoa’s posts: Timo Werner had several chances to make a name and Carlos Salcedo flicked the ball off Julien Draxler’s foot just as he was about to fire from point blank range. But a goal for the champions would have gone against the wild spirit of defiance in the stadium.
“Somehow it seemed jinxed,” admitted a baffled Loew. When did we last hear the German coach turn to the fates? But it was that kind of night: technique and sophistication undone by passion and boldness. It leaves Germany in a suddenly precarious place, preparing to face the Swedes in Krasnador next Saturday night with all of the usual presumptions suddenly stripped away.
“Of course everyone is crestfallen but we have to look forward,” Loew said sombrely.“And the next match will be decisive for us. We have to win it. That goes without saying.”
