On the pitch, Tevez raised a hand to his teammates to signal that the miss was on him.
In Tevez's mind though, the reason Leon had stopped suddenly was simply that he could not read the angle of the shot at all.
The ball had just gone wide, nothing more.
'All this talk about being brilliant at stopping one-on-ones? Looks like nothing but an empty reputation.'
Tevez's eyes were full of contempt.
On the touchline, Inzaghi let out a breath of relief when he saw Tevez blaze the shot wide.
Tevez's reputation was genuinely intimidating.
He was the unpredictable type on the pitch.
When he hit form, even Ronaldo and Messi would not have it easy against him.
Leon launched a long goal kick forward into the attacking half.
But this time his luck was out and the ball sailed straight into touch.
With a [Goal Kicking] attribute of only 4, a kick that poor was hardly surprising.
Leon shook his head and gestured to his teammates to acknowledge it was his error.
"Tch."
Diego López on the AC Milan bench let out a quiet scoff.
That was it?
He genuinely could not see what the manager had spotted in this goalkeeper from the East.
Play continued, and Juventus quickly organised a new wave of attack.
Pogba picked the ball up in the centre of the attacking half and drove forward, and Leon immediately locked his attention onto him.
With both Pirlo and Vidal in the squad, the young Pogba was still operating as a supporting player at this stage, channelling most of his energy into linking play in midfield and contributing to attacks.
But one thing would not change: Pogba had a habit of suddenly unleashing long-range shots.
From Leon's vantage point, there was not a single AC Milan player within two metres of Pogba.
"Hey! Watch Pogba for a long shot!"
Leon shouted across at Mexes, the centre-back and captain on the pitch.
Mexes flinched when he heard Leon call out.
He had not expected Leon to be directing him around defensively.
A flicker of irritation crossed his mind.
'Just worry about keeping your own goal safe.'
Having the manager's backing was one thing, but there was no need to get too full of yourself.
In that moment of hesitation, Pogba had already wound up and let fly from thirty metres out.
The ball flew through the air with almost no deviation and arrowed straight towards the top right corner of the goal.
The angle was exceptionally difficult.
Leon could see there was no counting on his teammates, so he threw himself into a dive without a second thought and clawed the ball away from the crossbar by the narrowest of margins.
Leon's body was fully extended in mid-air, and supporters watching the slow-motion replay let out a sharp intake of breath.
What a save.
Pogba's shot had been superb.
And Leon's save was even better.
"Yes!"
Leon sprang back to his feet and pumped his fist hard.
His technique was not yet perfect, but his explosive physical condition was more than enough to produce moments like that.
If anything, it was the saves that demanded precise fundamentals where Leon was less reliable.
'He actually shot?'
Mexes glanced at Pogba with a look of surprise, then looked back at Leon, and his brow creased slightly.
How had Leon seen that coming?
Anticipation?
Under normal circumstances Mexes still would not have paid much attention to Leon.
But this match was different. Mexes was the captain on the pitch.
He had to shoulder the role of leader.
"Leon! Keep calling them out if you see something!"
Mexes thought it over and said exactly that to Leon.
Nobody who stepped onto a pitch wanted to lose.
As the match wore on, both sides settled fully into the rhythm of the game.
The combination of AC Milan's relentless attacking intent and Juventus's sharp, high-quality counter-attacks made for an exceptionally fierce contest.
Supporters watching were thoroughly entertained.
Buffon showed all the composure of a seasoned veteran.
With Bonucci and Chiellini forming one of the finest centre-back pairings in the game, and both working in close understanding with Buffon, AC Milan's attacking posture looked impressive but produced no genuine threat to the Juventus goal.
The Juventus counter-attacks, on the other hand, were razor-sharp.
Had Leon not been decisive in coming off his line, combined with a generous helping of fortune, AC Milan would likely have been behind already.
"This is what AC Milan look like right now!"
"All the attacking looks very lively on the surface, but whether they actually score is another matter entirely!"
"And the defending feels completely at the mercy of the gods! Whether they concede or not seems to be pure luck!"
"I can't see Inzaghi lasting until the end of the season."
Supporters back home felt their nerves could barely take it.
Juventus created a genuine threat on the AC Milan goal almost every five minutes, and each time it was down to Leon to bail them out with a save.
There were in fact several occasions when the ball got past Leon altogether, but Juventus ran out of luck as the shots struck the post and bounced to safety.
On the touchline, Inzaghi stroked his chin, a nagging feeling that something was not quite right.
'Just get through the last three minutes first.'
Inzaghi glanced at the clock. The first half had reached the forty-second minute.
"Tweet!"
A whistle cut through his thoughts just as he was working something out.
"Damn it!"
Inzaghi muttered under his breath.
On the pitch, the referee had produced a yellow card for Mexes.
Juventus had won a free kick in an excellent position, roughly twenty-three metres from goal.
Pirlo's sudden forward run had clearly disrupted AC Milan's defensive shape, and Mexes had brought him down with a sliding tackle to stop him going any further.
If Pirlo had managed to play that ball through, the situation could have been genuinely dangerous.
As it was, it was still far from comfortable.
From that position, a Pirlo free kick was as close to a certainty as it got.
Leon felt the weight of the moment press down on him.
He had to stop this one.
Pirlo's free kicks were genuinely difficult to deal with.
Pirlo had only grown more dangerous with age, and his passing over distance had reached a level of artistry all its own. A free kick, to him, was simply another form of long pass.
His free kicks were not the type built on raw power.
They were deeply curved deliveries with a sweeping arc.
The ball did not appear to travel quickly, but it was extremely hard for a goalkeeper to judge the landing point with precision.
That was what it meant to control the rhythm.
'Left side or right side?'
Leon organised the wall while turning the question over in his mind.
Pirlo was equally dangerous from either side.
The position was ideal for a free kick.
And regardless of which side he chose, Pirlo would use the inside of his right foot to curl the ball in.
'Hmm?'
'Something's different.'
Before the kick was taken, Pogba stepped forward and appeared to argue with Pirlo over the ball.
It looked as though he wanted to take the free kick himself.
"Hey! Let me take it! I've been working on a new free kick routine recently! It'll definitely work on this goalkeeper from the East!"
Pogba leaned close to Pirlo's ear and said it quietly.
"Go ahead then."
Pirlo gave an indifferent shrug.
As the years had caught up with him, Pirlo had long since stopped caring about competing for such things.
Juventus had clearly been building the team around Pogba this season, and Pirlo could already sense that his time was coming to an end.
Back when he was at AC Milan, it had been a falling-out with manager Allegri that had pushed him to leave for Juventus.
Now Allegri had arrived at Juventus to manage him again, and that said everything about their relationship.
'Pirlo: Wherever I go, you show up. What is this?'