Chapter 61: Vs AC Milan (2)
The shot from Banda had faded into the night, just past the post, and a stunned collective gasp echoed through San Siro. The crowd leaned forward, jaws slack, breath caught. For a moment, it felt like time itself had slowed. Lecce, against all the odds, had felt closer to a shock lead than anyone would have dared to believe. Hope had flickered like a fragile flame. But that hope had no time to bloom.
Because just seconds after, like a sudden jolt to the system, AC Milan clicked into another level. It wasn’t just a switch in tactics. It was a switch in intention, in belief, in tempo. From the twenty-third minute onward, their aggression transformed. It wasn’t the same Milan that had probed earlier. No, this was different. This was a team that had decided they were done waiting.
They pressed, swarmed, hunted. It was ruthless, relentless. Every touch from a Lecce player was met with red pressure. Milan moved the ball with pace, with purpose, and with that dangerous sense of rhythm that only the best teams carry. Lecce found themselves pinned back, locked in a survival game.
Leão, slippery and uncontainable, danced his way through the cracks like water seeping through stone. One moment he was drifting past Ramadani, the next he was sliding beyond Sala. With a flick, he played the ball into Morata, whose first-time reverse pass fell perfectly back to Leão down the right flank. Without hesitation, Leão zipped a low cross toward the edge of the area where Pulisic waited.
The American took one measured breath, as if drawing calm from the chaos. He shifted his weight, found his space, and then lashed a shot that screamed toward the top corner. It wasn’t just a shot. It was a declaration, a thunderbolt. The entire stadium collectively tensed.
But Falcone had read it.
Sensing danger, Lecce’s number one leapt like a man possessed. His fingertips, just grazing the ball, made the tiniest of contacts. But it was enough. The ball cannoned against the crossbar, rattled the woodwork, and ricocheted out into the night.
["Falcone again! My goodness, are you seeing this? What reflexes, what instincts, what courage! He is single-handedly keeping Lecce in this match! Absolutely heroic!"]
["Lecce have been playing away games at the San Siro, but Falcone is making it his home! He did it against Inter Milan, he’s doing it again against AC Milan, what a match it has been for the goalkeeper so far!"]
And the saves did not stop there. The next three minutes became a siege. A nightmare for most keepers, but Falcone stood tall.
Tonali spotted space behind the defensive line and threaded a pass with surgical precision. The ball reached Morata, who was already setting himself to spin. He held off his marker, pivoted quickly, and slammed a shot low and hard toward the far post.