You didn’t think it would happen this time, did you? That old white mischief, the magic of the Meringues, those ghostly hands losing their grip on the day? I find your lack of faith disturbing.
For 72 minutes at Wembley Stadium this Champions League final churned and simmered. Perhaps to the untrained eye it might have looked like the team in yellow and black was dominating. Jude Bellingham played like a man trying to remember what Jude Bellingham does. Borussia Dortmund had vigour and drive.
