Half-time. 2-0. In the dressing room, I kept it short. "The corridor is still there. Iborra hasn't adjusted. Nya, keep exploiting it. James, Wilf, what you're doing together is outstanding. Keep it going. Nick, you've had nothing to do, which means the defence is perfect. Stay focused. The third goal kills the match."
Bray added: "If we get a corner on the right in the next fifteen minutes, KB-26. Near post. Dann decoy. Christian, back post."
Benteke, who had been listening with the attentive stillness of a man whose next meal was being described, nodded once. He knew the routine.
He had drilled it on Thursday. The near-post run was Dann's job, dragging the nearest marker. The back post was Benteke's territory. The delivery would come from Rodríguez, flat and hard, the same trajectory that had produced Konaté's goal at Wembley.
The second half opened, and the third goal came within twelve minutes. Not from the set-piece. From something better.
