Almost, but also, somehow, nowhere near. For Manchester City this was once again an exercise in how to fall apart. For an hour at the Etihad Stadium, City became a flickering version of their best selves, driven on by a selection of creaking first-choice defensive parts lashed together and made to march four abreast into the sun for as long as their limbs could stand.
By the time Real Madrid scored their first goal of this game on 60 minutes, half of that string‑and‑brown‑paper back four had either gone off or was already limping. Rico Lewis was being twirled around the place by Vinícius Júnior like a child at a wedding reception disco. And half an hour later, as Jude Bellingham scored to make it 3-2 to Madrid, City’s hopes of making the post‑playoff second knockout phase of this competition had narrowed to a fine point.
