Instead, it waited for its chance and took the lead just after half an hour through Beth Mead, the tournament’s top scorer. That could be the cue for another team to sit back, shrug, and grit their teeth. But that is not Wiegman’s way, and therefore not England’s.
At halftime, the stadium announcer stated that, “as things stand now, England are going to the final”. It felt a little overconfident, the kind of statement that might be seen as a source of regret, though not for long. Within four minutes of the start of the second half, Lucy Bronze had doubled the lead and her header drifted painfully slow past Lindahl’s dive.
That goal would have been enough in hindsight, but not at the time, not enough to be sure. Only with Russo’s improvised, instinctive genius could the audience — the players — relax. Minutes later, Fran Kirby, England’s creative heartbeat, ran on target. She too was in one of the biggest competitions of her career. She also knew this was serious.
Still, she chose the indulgent option, lifting a delicate, sparking chip just outside Lindahl’s grasp and bouncing her gloves off into the net behind her. It was something a player tries to do when he is having fun despite the situation he is in.