Chapter 44: First Half – A Closed Door
Saturday, August 23, 2003 – Stade Louis-II
The air was still.
The sun had settled over the concrete bleachers like a weight, heat rising off the seats in soft waves that made the far end of the stadium shimmer. It wasn’t a full crowd—Louis-II never started full. The home fans trickled in with sunglasses and slow steps, sweat already staining shirts at the collar. In the corner section, the Nice supporters were loud from the first second, their chants sharp, drums hollow, cutting through the lull like knives across canvas.
Demien stood in the tunnel, coat off, shirt sleeves rolled, collar unbuttoned. He didn’t speak. Michel was saying something to the fourth official. Zikos adjusted his tape. Giuly tugged twice at the bottom of his shirt like it didn’t fit quite right.
The team walked out without fanfare.
Rothen blinked against the light. Morientes nodded once at the ref and said nothing else. D’Alessandro, in full kit but benched, walked out last behind the staff and sat next to the reserve keeper, eyes straight ahead, legs crossed.
The whistle blew.
Kickoff.
Six minutes in, Giuly found his angle.
Bernardi had dropped deeper to shake off the man shadowing him, and Zikos rolled it out first-time into Giuly’s lane. No hesitation. One touch to burst past the fullback, second to glance up.
The cross was low. Sharp. Aimed front post.