PSG, what an eternal tragedy

The Parc des Princes cries, as excited as it had been illuminated, with Raí and Djorkaeff in the box, icons of the distant past, icons of another time, nothing to do with the new rich of the present.

Oliver Thansan
Oliver Thansan
07 May 2024 Tuesday 04:28
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PSG, what an eternal tragedy

The Parc des Princes cries, as excited as it had been illuminated, with Raí and Djorkaeff in the box, icons of the distant past, icons of another time, nothing to do with the new rich of the present.

This Mbappé is the nouveau riche, about whom there is so much talk and whose future there is so much speculation and who sometimes, on big days, makes an exit from the forum. Little or nothing is seen of him tonight in the Parc des Princes, and PSG's dream, the pretense of conquering Europe, is beginning to become a utopia.

In the coming weeks, Paris is going to be the axis of sport (Roland Garros dawns and the Olympic Games are taking shape), but its football is not going to accompany it in the company.

There goes another PSG tragedy.

No matter how hard they try, the French can't get it together. They lack team mechanics, they are lazy and impulsive, and on the opposite side they run a Borussia Dortmund team that is as organized as it is precise, much more efficient in Europe than in its Bundesliga, where it is barely fifth.

German efficiency, they call it. And act accordingly.

The first period progresses and the dynamics of the first leg, the 1-0 in Dortmund, do not change, and PSG becomes impatient.

The Parisian fans hum, their chants fly over the stadium, they stretch out over the Bois de Boulogne, and Vitinha, on the pitch, tries to maintain the local spirit, but his attempts are in vain: Dembélé, who started pecking, has lost presence . Hakimi has already disappeared. And Mbappé seeks the Pulitzer in every action. His mistakes on big days exasperate local experts, who are in trouble.

In some ways, Mbappé abuses himself.

Every time he receives, Mbappé caracoles and faces, but the German rearguard has taken the measure of him. Help arrives, three defenders surround Mbappé, and goalkeeper Kobel lives in a cloud. Only once did the French worry him, in reality his concern did not come from a PSG shot, but from a semi-miss clearance by Schlotterberg.

Dortmund are so comfortable that they barely need to commit fouls to block PSG: they recorded only one in the entire first half.

Even on the back foot, Dortmund's ability to deploy torments PSG. Jadon Sancho cuts the lane like a knife through butter and Fullkrug, scorer of the first leg goal, pivots as true nines know how to do.

Luis Enrique seems to have done something at half-time, as his PSG reconfigures itself, at least for a few moments. His best minutes arrive. Dembélé really scares Kobel and Zaire-Emery hits the post.

They are very few minutes, just three or four.

The magic doesn't come.

Magic is a mirage, a sad little flame in the storm. Hummels turns it off, who heads in alone from a corner, takes the colors out of the French defense and PSG is already against the wall.

From despair comes pride, PSG stretches, enveloping Kobel's frame. Nuno Mendes shoots at the post (two posts in the second half), now Mbappé is the French number nine, the referee hesitates when Dembélé falls on the edge of the area. Orsato whistles a foul, no one would have opened their mouths if he had also called a penalty, and Dortmund doesn't even flinch.

He has a two-goal margin, he gets behind the ball and concentrates on bailing. At times, he defends with seven men in the area, Kobel aside. In the yellow forest, the French stars are drowning, not even a crack can be found by Mbappé, Dembélé or Bradley Barcola, who jumps onto the field for the final hug.

The last quarter of an hour is cartoonish. PSG goes with everything. Marquinhos is small, but he rises between the German towers and is about to score with a header. Mbappé shoots the crossbar and so does Vitinha (the French have six shots on the post in the entire tie). The party would have surrendered to vertigo, something that never happens.

PSG is proud, it insists until the end, but it falls by the wayside, it remains an unfinished product.

Paris Saint-Germain: Donnarumma, Achraf, Marquinhos, Beraldo, Nuno Mendes, Vitinha, Zaire-Emery (Kang In Lee, 76), Fabián Ruiz (Marco Asensio, 63), Dembélé, Mbappé and Gonçalo Ramos (Barcola, 63).

Coach: Luis Enrique.

Borussia Dortmund: Kobel, Ryerson, Hummels, Schlotterberg, Maatsen, Sabitzer, Emre Can, Brandt (Nmecha, 85), Jadon Sancho (Sule, 67), Adeyemi (Reus, 56) and Füllkrug.

Entrenador: Edin Terzic.

Field: Princes Park

Referee: Daniele Orsato (Italy). He yellow carded Sabitzer, Hummels, Dembélé and Achraf.

Goals: 0-1, Hummels (50).