Toluca confirms its paternal authority over América, and Turco Mohamed asserts his teaching style over his Piarist instructor André Jardine. The Red Devils were declared Champion of Champions. 3-1 is the epitaph behind which rests another crushed dream of the deeply hurt #HateMeMore.
More than 27,000 people fainted, shook, excitedly, and hysterically welcomed Dignity Health to the city, which became “Dignity Hell” on the Devils’ lucky night and America’s fatal night.
They took it quite seriously. Absolute commitment. Both the champion and the desperate messenger are seeking vengeance. Even before the game, both coaches, Antonio Mohamed and André Jardine, were nervous.
América starts strong but fades under Toluca’s pressure
América had already taken the lead after just one minute of play. Brian Rodríguez’s back pass found Alejandro Zendejas, who maintained his composure. And the number ten struck it, too. A spectacular goal in the 56th second. Diego López saw the ball go somewhere else. 1-0.
Toluca was uneasy about the surprise, but the defending champion restored its calm and, without becoming disorganized, continued to fight Americanist efforts in pursuit of a second goal.
At 12′, a ball rejected by the Americanist defense found Franco Romero, unmarked and unfettered, and his shot went low, slanted, and forceful. However, the impression remained that Luis Ángel Malagón, with no one blocking his vision, was taking the shot late. 1-1.
Toluca is getting comfortable. El Turco Mohamed is reorganizing Canelo Angulo and Marcel Ruiz to prevent the damage Fidalgo, Borja, and Rodríguez were attempting to cause. He’s knotted up three players with a single tweak.
A little of everything. Struggles under Mohamed’s direction and the great might of América. Ups and downs, while in the stands, the Eagles’ endeavor to locate the team was followed by a high-decibel, deafening celebration that never stopped from the start of the game.
The great concern was whether América learned from their defeat in the previous tournament’s final. Jardine may have, but his players haven’t. The price has to be paid before halftime.
At 48, with the referee’s stopwatch and whistle blaring, he approves a corner kick to conclude the first half. Alexis Vega makes the shot, and Bruno Méndez beats the slow Americanista defender by twisting his neck and heading for the far post. Toluca leads 2-1.
Jardine shakes his head. Once again, his squad fell prey to Mohamed’s deception.
El Turco used a basic tactic in the second half: he waited. América could have overtaken a break zone first, but the second zone was firm, and they knew that break zones were a blessing for their side and a curse for the opponent if Alexis and Paulinho snatched a ball, curled it up, and waited for the second relay.
While Toluca depended on tremendous stoicism, juggling and recovering their stuff in the background, América persevered, armed with all the resources that intensity, desperation, and wounded pride can provide. Of course, classes are numerous in El Nido.
However, América is once again caught up in the scarlet ambush. Toluca ends the night despite resistance from the back, thanks to big transitions and attacks. Rebounds in América’s box, a header from Castro, who had replaced Márcel, and Paulinho, with his combination of shrewdness, technique, and suddenness, left Malagón startled once more. A goal that VAR should have verified. Jardine is heartbroken after going down 3-1. He certainly can learn, but can he also teach?
Toluca had already begun to rally by that point. And they hung on, and held on, for, without a doubt, the dedication and devotion of all the clandestine children of Coapa was genuinely praiseworthy, but Hell had gathered all of its devils for Cerberus’ benefit. 3-1 in Coapa’s four-year failure: no League, no Club World Cup, no Concacaf Champions League, and no Champion of Champions.
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