Andrea Pirlo stood over the corner on the left, glanced toward the crowded penalty area, and immediately noticed Kaka shuffling away from the goal.
What the hell was wrong with this kid?
Pirlo felt helpless.
With no tall target waiting at the far post anymore, he could only aim toward the near side.
He took a deep breath, raised one hand to signal the set-piece routine, then backed away a few steps before charging forward and whipping the ball into the box.
Bang!
The ball flew off his boot with a dull thud, curling toward the near post.
Andriy Shevchenko leapt with everything he had, but could only graze the underside of the ball with his forehead.
Instead of flying toward goal, the flick sent it looping diagonally toward the far post.
The ball skimmed over a forest of jumping heads and began to drop.
Rui Costa reacted quickest, throwing himself forward and snapping a header toward goal.
Hyypiä lunged across to block it!
The ball struck Sami Hyypiä on the shoulder and bounced down into the box.
Rui Costa immediately threw up a hand, appealing for handball, while stepping forward for the rebound.
But Hyypiä reacted first and swung a leg to clear.
At the exact same moment, Jamie Carragher, who had also rushed across to block Rui Costa’s follow-up, moved directly into the ball’s path.
The clearance smashed hard into Carragher’s thigh and ricocheted back out toward the edge of the six-yard box.
Chaos erupted in front of Liverpool’s goal.
Andrea Pirlo, sprinting toward the penalty area, watched the ball pinball through the crowd.
For a moment, he thought the chance was gone and was already preparing to turn and retreat.
Then…
A white blur suddenly shot out from the mass of bodies, spinning toward the middle of the penalty area.
And standing there was a tall figure, craning his neck toward goal.
Pirlo’s eyes instantly lit up.
Then he saw Kaka swinging his left foot.
His expression froze.
And a split second later…
He screamed.
“Kaka has drifted away from the six-yard box!
Pirlo delivers the corner toward the near post…”
“Shevchenko!”
“He doesn’t make clean contact!
The ball goes across toward the far side!”
“Gerrard tries to clear it!
He can’t get there!”
“Rui Costa!
Header!”
“Blocked by Hyypiä!”
“Hyypiä tries to clear…”
“Kaka!”
“Kaka!
Kaka!
Kaka!”
“VOLLEY!”
“GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!!!”
“Kaka picks up the loose ball just outside the six-yard area!
Hyypiä’s clearance strikes Carragher and falls perfectly for him!”
“A left-footed volley!”
“With his weaker foot!”
“IT’S IN!!!”
“The ball flashes through the crowd at waist height!
Dudek never even sees it coming!”
“Not even Liverpool’s miracle keeper can save them this time!”
“A winner!”
“A winner at the very end of extra time!”
“Kaka has scored the goal that sends Liverpool to the executioner’s block!”
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
The Atatürk Olympic Stadium exploded.
The red-and-black supporters who had travelled to Istanbul leapt to their feet the instant the ball hit the net.
Flags, scarves, drinks, and anything else people happened to be holding went flying into the air.
The roar swallowed the entire stadium whole.
Kaka stood rooted to the spot.
His left foot was still tingling from the force of the strike.
He stared blankly toward the goal.
It…
Went in?
Then he saw Pirlo charging straight at him, face flushed red, his sweat-soaked hair flying behind him.
Before Kaka could react, Pirlo crashed into him head-on.
Then came Rui Costa.
Shevchenko.
Jon Dahl Tomasson.
And everyone else.
The ball went in?
I actually scored?!
Wait, wait, I haven’t even pointed at the sky yet…
Too late.
A pack of sweaty grown men smelling strongly of ninety-plus minutes of football piled on top of him, completely destroying Kaka’s carefully imagined celebration.
The Milan players had lost their minds.
On the touchline, Carlo Ancelotti had still been complaining internally about Kaka drifting away from the penalty area instead of challenging for the header.
The moment the ball hit the net, however, he shot up from the bench so quickly that the chewing gum flew straight out of his mouth.
The old man sprinted down the technical area and dropped into a knee slide.
A second later, assistant coaches and substitutes tackled him in celebration.
In the 121st minute of extra time, AC Milan had taken a 4-3 lead over Liverpool through a volley from their supposed attacking talisman, Kaka!
“Kaka!
I knew it!
I knew you could do it!”
Pirlo was lying half on top of him, his face bright red.
Whether that was from excitement or from being crushed beneath several grown men was difficult to say.
As for Kaka, who was buried at the very bottom of the pile…
He felt like he was about to die.
Unfortunately, the Milan players had absolutely no intention of letting him go.
After finally escaping the human mountain, he was immediately assaulted from all sides again.
Pirlo rubbed his hair.
Then slapped him on the backside.
Paolo Maldini rushed over and wrapped Kaka in a crushing hug that nearly squeezed the air out of his lungs.
And if Kaka hadn’t turned his head fast enough, Shevchenko would probably have kissed him.
After celebrating for almost three full minutes, with Ancelotti even dragging him over to personally “reward” him with several violent pats and shakes, Kaka finally stumbled back onto the pitch in a daze.
The Liverpool players had been waiting so long that they looked ready to bite someone.
Steven Gerrard complained to the referee several times before the Milan players finally returned to their positions.
Only then did Kaka properly come back to his senses.
He had scored?
Just like that?
The Miracle of Istanbul…
Had he just kicked it out of existence?
All around the stadium, AC Milan supporters were singing at the tops of their lungs.
Flags whipped through the stands.
Red-and-black number 22 shirts seemed to be everywhere.
And their hoarse, ecstatic voices seemed to be screaming directly at him.
That’s right.
You.
That ridiculous left-footed volley just killed the Miracle of Istanbul.
And maybe…
Just maybe…
It also won the Champions League.
A deep sense of unreality still clung to him.
When he first stepped onto the pitch and realised that he had somehow ended up inside his goat’s body, Kaka had been terrified that he would personally destroy Kaka’s reputation.
His performance in extra time certainly hadn’t looked remotely normal.
But life’s ups and downs came far too quickly.
One moment, he was desperately trying not to embarrass himself.
The next, he’d scored a potential winner in the Champions League final.
This was way too exciting!
And the funniest part was that it had all happened because he’d been intimidated by Carragher’s murderous face and backed away from the aerial duel.
He hadn’t wanted anything to do with the header.
So he had simply stood there in the middle of the box watching everyone else fight for the ball.
Then the rebound flew straight toward him.
Before his brain could even process what was happening, Kaka’s muscle memory took control.
His lower leg swung.
His foot connected.
And then…
Goal.
Carlo Ancelotti’s voice suddenly came screaming from the touchline.
Kaka looked over and saw the old man jumping up and down, waving frantically for him to drop deeper.
Only then did he remember Ancelotti’s instructions from earlier.
He quickly retreated into his own half.
Now that Milan had the lead, Ancelotti instantly abandoned all dignity and piled men behind the ball.
Using his final substitution, he took off Andriy Shevchenko, who had been running himself into the ground for nearly the entire match, and sent on veteran defender Alessandro Costacurta.
Five defenders.
Rui Costa, Pirlo, Serginho, and Kaka all dropped deep as well.
Only Jon Dahl Tomasson remained up front, basically waiting to see whether some miracle counter-attack might fall into his lap.
This tactical masterpiece had a very simple name.
Parking the bus.
The Liverpool players had just experienced heaven and hell within the same match.
After going 3-0 down in the first half, they had probably thought their Champions League dream was finished.
Then they scored three goals in six astonishing minutes after half-time.
The score became 3-3.
Their confidence soared.
If Milan could win this Champions League final, why couldn’t mighty Liverpool?
There was nothing sacred about Milan.
They could be beaten too!
Liverpool entered extra time with momentum behind them.
And when they noticed that Milan’s star attacking midfielder seemed strangely out of sorts, they clearly wanted to strike again and finish the comeback.
But the two sides remained deadlocked.
If they couldn’t score, then fine.
Penalties would do.
Then, with extra time almost over, that same supposedly out-of-form midfielder suddenly produced one flash of brilliance and smashed them straight over the head with it.
4-3.
Now Liverpool were desperate.
Their forwards threw themselves into attack.
Even Carragher and Hyypiä, both involved in the disastrous deflection that had led to the goal, pushed further forward, desperate to redeem themselves.
Liverpool’s entire shape moved higher and higher as they began bombarding Milan’s defensive line.
But there was one small problem with trying to break down a team that had completely parked the bus.
Usually, you needed one of two things.
Either you had a player capable of producing an outrageous individual breakthrough…
Or the team defending the lead still had some interest in playing football.
Unfortunately for Liverpool, neither condition applied.
After more than 120 minutes of football, even an iron man would have melted into scrap metal.
Nobody had the legs left for some heroic solo run through five defenders.
And as for Milan?
Dreams?
What dreams?
We’re winning.
Who needs dreams?
Second by second, time disappeared.
Desperation gradually spread across the faces of the Liverpool players.
In the stands, some Liverpool supporters were already openly crying.
Meanwhile, the Milan fans celebrated without restraint, happily rubbing salt into every possible wound.
The clock moved beyond 120 minutes.
The referee signalled five minutes of stoppage time.
Carlo Ancelotti immediately stormed toward the fourth official and began arguing so furiously that he practically sprayed the poor man’s face with saliva.
He only calmed down after being shown a yellow card.