At 7:30 PM, the starting lineups were officially submitted.
In the English commentary booth at the RheinEnergieStadion, Martin Tyler and Gary Neville were preparing for the broadcast.
"Welcome, viewers from around the world, to the 2019-2020 UEFA Europa League Final!" Tyler announced, his voice carrying the gravity of the occasion.
"It all comes down to this. Aston Villa versus Inter Milan in Cologne."
"Let's dive straight into the lineups, Martin," Neville said. "Antonio Conte sets Inter up in his trademark, rigid 3-5-2 system. They are incredibly tough to break down."
"Samir Handanović is in goal. A formidable back three of Alessandro Bastoni, Stefan de Vrij, and the veteran Diego Godín. Across the midfield: Ashley Young, Roberto Gagliardini, Marcelo Brozović, Nicolò Barella, and Danilo D'Ambrosio. And up front, the lethal partnership of Lautaro Martínez and Romelu Lukaku."
"For Aston Villa," Tyler continued, "Dean Smith sticks with the 4-1-4-1 that has served them so well this historic season."
"Emiliano Martínez in goal. A back four of Matt Targett, Tyrone Mings, Ezri Konsa, and Ahmed Elmohamady. Marvelous Nakamba sits as the lone defensive anchor. Ahead of him, the dynamic quartet of John McGinn, Douglas Luiz, Jack Grealish, and the man of the hour, Theodore Bjorn. Wesley leads the line alone up top."
Down in the tunnel, the atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed. Players from both sides chatted amiably.
The tension of a European final hadn't quite taken hold yet.
Given that tonight was officially Theodore Bjorn's final match in a claret and blue shirt, Dean Smith had made a poignant decision.
He handed the 18-year-old the captain's armband.
Three minutes later, the referee led the two teams out onto the immaculate German turf.
Theodore, wearing the armband, strode to the center circle for the coin toss.
The stands were packed not just with fervent supporters, but with high-profile guests.
Theodore's Norway teammates, Martin Ødegaard and Erling Haaland, were in attendance.
Even Norwegian royalty, Crown Prince Haakon and Princess Ingrid, watched eagerly from the VIP box.
The handshakes concluded as the players took their positions.
Peep!
At exactly 8:00 PM, the referee blew the whistle.
Aston Villa kicked off.
The moment the ball rolled, a breathtaking spectacle unfolded in the Aston Villa end.
A colossal tifo slowly rose, covering the entire stand. It depicted a hyper-realistic painting of Theodore Bjorn, roaring in celebration after scoring his very first goal for the club.
Below the image, massive letters spelled out: "THANK YOU, KING."
The entire Villa contingent chanted his name in unison, the sound echoing around the stadium.
"Look at that, Gary," Tyler noted, a hint of emotion in his voice. "The Villa fans saying goodbye to the boy who delivered them the Premier League. He's off to Real Madrid, but tonight, they want one last dance. They want him to bring this trophy home."
But Inter Milan were not there to participate in a farewell party.
In the 5th minute, Theodore received the ball in the center circle.
Instantly, three black-and-blue shirts swarmed him.
Gagliardini, Brozović, and D'Ambrosio collapsed the space with terrifying speed and aggression.
Conte had clearly drilled his team obsessively. The Italian manager knew that stopping Theodore meant stopping Aston Villa.
The triple-team worked perfectly. Denied any space to turn or pass, Theodore was cleanly dispossessed.
"They are suffocating him early," Neville observed. "Conte is not going to let him breathe tonight."
In the 7th minute, Villa managed to spark a brief attack. Grealish received a pass on the left flank.
Knowing his best friend was bound for the Bernabéu filled Grealish with immense pride, but it also fueled his own ambition.
He wanted to shine on this massive stage.
He dropped his shoulder and hit the accelerator, blasting past Ashley Young.
The veteran Inter wing-back simply didn't have the legs to keep up with the Villa captain.
Reaching the edge of the box, Grealish opted for power, unleashing a fierce, swerving shot toward the far corner.
Handanović reacted instantly, diving at full stretch to produce a stunning, fingertip save, pushing the ball around the post.
0-0.
The near miss injected confidence into the Villa side.
They began to dictate possession, pinning Inter deep in their own half.
Conte stood statuesque on the touchline, furiously waving his hands, demanding defensive discipline.
In the 20th minute, Villa mounted a sustained siege.
McGinn held the ball up well, drawing defenders before slipping a pass to Theodore on the edge of the penalty arc.
The Villa fans in the stadium roared in anticipation.
But the Italian trap snapped shut immediately. Gagliardini, Brozović, and Barella formed an impenetrable triangle around him.
Every passing lane was blocked; a shot was impossible.
Forced backward, Theodore laid the ball off to the trailing Nakamba.
The defensive midfielder, never known for his goal-scoring prowess, panicked under pressure and rushed a hopeful long-range effort.
It was a weak, scuffed shot that trickled harmlessly into Handanović's gloves.
Inter seized the moment.
Handanović didn't hesitate. He launched a massive, booming drop-kick deep into the Villa half, aiming for the right flank.
Romelu Lukaku and Matt Targett contested the aerial duel. It was a brutal mismatch.
The towering Belgian easily outmuscled the Villa full-back, knocking him to the turf and bringing the ball down cleanly.
"Lukaku wins it! Inter counter!" Tyler shouted.
As Lukaku drove forward, Ezri Konsa scrambled across to cover.
But Lukaku didn't try to beat him.
He looked up and whipped a pinpoint, early cross into the danger zone.
Lautaro Martínez had timed his run to perfection.
"The cross comes in... LAUTARO!"
The Argentine striker met the ball perfectly on the volley, sweeping it past Emiliano Martínez from close range.
1-0!
"And Inter strike first!" Tyler yelled. "A devastatingly simple counter-attack! Big man to little man, and it's 1-0 to the Italians!"
"That is exactly how Conte drew it up, Martin," Neville analyzed. "Absorb the pressure, frustrate Bjorn, and hit them on the break. Lukaku's hold-up play was brilliant, and Lautaro doesn't miss those."
The Inter Milan fans erupted.
Lautaro sprinted to the corner flag, mimicking a machine-gun firing at Lukaku, who engulfed him in a massive bear hug.
Conte finally smiled, clapping his hands rapidly on the touchline.
His game plan was working flawlessly!
...
@EuroScout: "Conte masterclass so far. He's nullifying Bjorn entirely."
@Villan82: "We've been caught out. Need to move the ball faster. Theo has no space."
@SerieA_Hub: "Lakaka strikes again! Inter are taking this trophy home."
Following the restart, Theodore actively dropped deeper, attempting to collect the ball off his center-backs to escape the midfield chokehold.
But Marcelo Brozović was operating as a relentless shadow.
Wherever Theodore went, the Croatian midfielder followed, snapping at his heels and disrupting his rhythm.
Furthermore, Inter's defensive block was a masterclass in Italian defending. The lines between their defense and midfield were practically non-existent.
There was zero space for Villa to operate in the final third.
The clock ticked past the half-hour mark. The score remained 1-0.
"Villa are struggling to find any answers," Neville noted. "They look short of ideas against this organized block. Individual brilliance alone isn't going to break this Inter side down tonight."
Frustration began to breed anxiety within the Villa ranks.
Passes became hurried; touches became heavy.
In the 36th minute, that anxiety proved fatal.
Under moderate pressure in midfield, Marvelous Nakamba committed a cardinal sin.
He played a blind, sloppy pass straight into the path of Roberto Gagliardini.
"Given away cheaply in a terrible area!" Tyler cried.
Gagliardini didn't waste a second. He instantly slid a through ball perfectly into the stride of Romelu Lukaku.
The Belgian striker found himself inside the penalty area with his back to goal, sandwiched by Mings and Konsa.
It didn't matter.
Using his terrifying physical strength, Lukaku simply held both defenders off, rolled Mings, and unleashed a ferocious, low drive across the keeper.
The ball rocketed into the bottom corner.
2-0!
"LUKAKU MAKES IT TWO!" Tyler roared. "Aston Villa are crumbling in Cologne!"
"A catastrophic error from Nakamba," Neville analyzed, shaking his head. "You cannot hand the ball to Inter Milan in transition. Lukaku's strength is unplayable there. Villa look completely shell-shocked."
Down on the touchline, Dean Smith looked utterly lost.
He ran a hand over his face, staring blankly at the pitch.
This was the first time all season the manager felt truly powerless. His team looked tactically beaten and mentally broken.
Were Aston Villa really going to lose the final match of their historic season with a whimper?