Give me a screamer from Denis Cheryshev. Give me Mario Mandzukic on the rampage, setting up an equaliser for Andrej Kramaric. Give me Ivan Perisic rattling the post and Luka Modric quarterbacking like Nick Foles. Give me Sergei Ignashevich turning back the clock and Igor Akinfeev turning away shots. Give me Domagoj Vida powering a header into the goal and then ripping off his jersey to get what will become the most welcome booking of his career. Give me Danijel Subasic cramping up and Sime Vrsaljko going down. Give me Alan Dzagoev with the pinpoint delivery and Mario Fernandes with the pinpoint header.
Give me Subasic bouncing and Dzagoev cheerleading. Give me Modric hitting Akfineev, the post, the crossbar and the back of the net on the same penalty. Give me Ivan Rakitic converting the winning penalty and sending Croatia on a journey through time back to 1998 except this time in the semifinal, it’s not the host nation France; there’s no Zinedine Zidane on the horizon, but rather Gareth Southgate’s England. Give me the World Cup. Give me awesome. Give me guys who enter the pitch as warriors and exit as empty shells.
This was unscripted opera at the Fisht Olympic Stadium, the sort that moves even the comatose and exalts the woke. Nobody lost this game. It’s just that one team has to advance, and that team is Croatia. Russia leave this World Cup having surpassed the rosiest of all expectations and galvanising a sport which for too long has been in the doldrums in this country. To a man, they can be proud. As for Croatia, they dare to dream.