Portugal vs France: A galaxy battle lost in the black hole of one man's ego...

Portugal vs France: A galaxy battle lost in the black hole of one man's ego.......

This Euro 2024 clash had the potential to be the greatest quarter-final of all time, but instead it was stolen from some of its parts.

Even his absence feels like a kind of presence. The cameras continue to search for him. Fans in the stands wearing replica Manchester United jerseys shout a little louder and frown a little harder. The less he does, the more important he becomes. The more you disappear in this game, the heavier it feels, like a black hole sucking everything into its vortex. And eventually Portugal too. The sabotage is complete. One of the most talented teams ever assembled at this level of football disappears right into a black hole. This is Elvis in his Vegas years, and ultimately the only thing remarkable is the fact that it continues to amaze us. It's just too terrifying to watch. Don't watch it, it's so bad. The clock is ticking three and the second quarter-final is hanging by a thread, but we know exactly how it ends. Meanwhile, Gonzalo Ramos and Diogo Jota are on the bench.

It was a terrible game of football. With so many attractive and talented players on the pitch, a game can never really be boring. In fact, the talent is a kind of protagonist in its own right. It was a match that, for better or worse, felt like a finale, where every action and decision instantly danced on the edge of disaster. Football with maximum context: every pass and every tackle full of meaning and intent, every shot on goal like a killer blow.

Some degrees are truly awful. Some defenses are gladiatorial. When Randal Kolo Muani picked up the ball just outside the penalty area in the early minutes of the game, Pepe put him in a taxi and pushed him aside like a vengeful father. Pepe would finish the game with 152 touches of the ball, more than anyone on the pitch. Pepe would sprint step by step with substitute Marcus Thuram, who had been given 15 years and 90 minutes, and shoot the ball wide. Pepe would block Kylian Mbappé's shot and celebrate it like an Olympic gold medal...

Kylian Mbappé shoots

Ruben Dias makes a decisive halt as Kolo Muani runs towards goal. Nuno Mendes will run towards Mbappé as he prepares to pull the trigger, while Eduardo Camavinga will make a sublime tackle just before Rafael Leon fires home from a tight angle, and William Saliba will simply be quietly brilliant. This isn't a summary or social media gold dust, but it is football's finest form of heroism. It's tempting to point to a France team that reached the semi-finals but failed to score a goal in the match and say sarcastically that Didier Deschamps has finally succeeded in building a team in his image. That's unfair, of course. Deschamps was ruthlessly selfless as a player, his every move focused on the collective. But in France, there's a sense that the team is only held together by success. Get enough talent on the team and maybe teamwork will take care of itself. No wonder they finally seemed to relax during the shootout. A series of simple one-on-one duels, tests of individual skill, a match without tactics or complexity.

The Portuguese team goes to a desperate Joao Felix with a missed shot.

And yet even Decamps has the presence to force Mbappé off the pitch in the 106th minute, when it became clear that this was not Mbappé's night. He was outplayed by Joao Cancelo, failing to convert any of his five shots. If Mbappé can't sprint and shoot, all you're left with, honestly, is a man in a mask pointing at the gap. He spent the final minutes sitting on the bench with an ice pack shoved up his nose. But at least France knows how to cope without their captain. Meanwhile Portugal is still tied to their captain, an anvil on chains that will eventually bring everyone down. There is little point in giving him something to chase or a pass longer than about 20 yards. If he switches to the left wing in the 53rd minute, it will be 55 minutes before he can return to the centre. He misses badly from close range. He again takes a free kick from an impossible angle and somehow manages to get it in, hitting all three of them in the wall.

In a way, it's hard not to feel resentful towards him, resentful that this epic, galactic event ultimately came down to one man's ego. This was supposed to be the greatest quarter-final of all time, and instead some of it was stolen from him. Stolen possession, stolen attention, stolen time from better players who actually deserved to be there, and not just some anachronism provided because no one wanted it, but some influence telling him not to do it.

As soon as Theo Hernandez scores the decisive penalty, the Portuguese players instinctively run to and embrace the heartbroken Joao Felix, the only one who missed the penalty. Mendes runs to him. Joao Palinha runs to him. Nelson Semedo runs to him. Pepe, choking his grief, runs to him, even though it might have been his last game. The team is still here, the only regret is that he didn't get to see them.

Men don't run to Felix. Instead, he goes his own way, in a different direction, following only the camera's greedy gaze: Cristiano Ronaldo.