Gareth Bale

With 23 minutes gone there was a moment of uproar inside the Cardiff City Stadium as Harry Wilson was blocked off outside the Austria penalty area; ...

On four minutes there was a moment of jaw-drop as Christoph Baumgartner strolled in on goal and saw the ball clang back off the bar. At times here was a large green space at the heart of this Welsh team, Allen trundling gamely around trying to fill the space like a lone forklift truck in an abandoned hangar. In attack Wales had Bale and Daniel James, one to ferret and press for two men, one to provide the fantasy, the vibes. James kept passing up the chance to kill the game, but somehow this was always going one way. What was strange was the trajectory, the ball leaping, dipping, then travelling on in a flat line like a missile. Bale took a hop, four steps, then hit the ball with the top of his foot in the familiar style. The Welsh anthem – a top three world anthem, up there with France and Italy – was, as ever, a stirring thing. Of course it’s thrilling, of course the crowd rises and stiffens. What really lingered was the softness in Bale’s movements: perfect, hard-honed technique executed under pressure, but with an ease that spoke to something spreading back up the foot, the years spent slow-cooking that feeling of team culture, of shared momentum. So Page picked a team with all the players. Gareth Bale paced it out and waited, charging the moment a little more. There is a concept doing the rounds called “main character energy”. It describes those people who communicate at all times the certainty that whatever might be happening around them, they are the main character in this scene.