MILAN, Italy — After 210 gripping minutes and 13 goals, Internazionale have reached their second UEFA Champions League final in three years, surviving three astonishing Barcelona comebacks to eliminate the LaLiga side 7-6 on aggregate with one of their own when it most mattered.
Davide Frattesi scored the winning goal in extra time to seal a 4-3 win, with San Siro erupting as the rain began to pour, but that doesn’t come close to telling the full story of one of the most remarkable European semifinals ever.
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Barça, who came from 2-0 and 3-2 down in the first leg to draw 3-3 last week, had earlier produced yet another stirring turnaround to move to the brink of their first Champions League final since 2015. When Raphinha struck in the 87th minute, they led for the first time in the tie after second-half goals from Eric García and Dani Olmo had canceled out a first-half strike from Lautaro Martínez and a Hakan Çalhanoglu penalty.
But their advantage lasted only six minutes. They were unable to get over the line, with veteran defender Francesco Acerbi turning home from close range in the 93rd minute. There was still time for the brilliant Yann Sommer to deny Lamine Yamal, who had also hit the post before Acerbi’s late goal, but the teams could not be separated after 180 minutes.
Frattesi pulled Inter clear again in the 99th minute, and then it was over to Sommer to seal his team’s passage to the final in Munich against either Paris Saint-Germain or Arsenal on May 31. The Swiss goalkeeper saved superbly on two occasions from Yamal as Barça threw everything at the Serie A side, but they held on to win and the three-time winners will now have the chance to banish memories of defeat to Manchester City in the final in 2023. — Sam Marsden
Inter, Barça produce game for the ages
There’s two words for this sort of game and they both have four letters. But I can only print one of them here, so I’m just going to say “EPIC.” That’s not what many neutrals, worn out by 120 minutes — more than 130 if you count injury time — of enthralling, twisting-in-the-tale football, probably uttered at the final whistle.
So much has been made about rotations, squad management and the physical toll that this game takes on its protagonists. Barça boss Hansi Flick rested nine starters over the weekend, his counterpart Simone Inzaghi — who has an older squad and has been rotating all season — 10 starters. But Tuesday night at San Siro we moved into something else. Whatever reserves these two teams had as we headed toward the 90th minute were long exhausted.
Inter’s well had run dry before Barça’s, enabling their comeback from two goals down to lead 3-2 as the clock ticked down. As much as their legs were heavy, it was compounded by the fact that their minds had become clouded, their decisions poor, their judgement ill-timed. They had fallen under the spell of Yamal — the Blonde Beelzebub, the 17-year-old with otherworldly skills, veteran brains and always in perpetual motion.
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When Raphinha scored what should have been the winner with two minutes to go — and Barcelona’s social accounts talked about how their club “never dies” — what we know as football went out the window and the game turned cinematic. And so it happened that Acerbi, 37-year-old cancer survivor, an angel (as we saw when he stripped his shirt to reveal the tattooed wings) born in hell (or close to it, witness the first decade or so of his career) broke the Satan spell with a fine finish in the third minute of injury time. And because by this point the game was an inverted, looking-glass sort of epic, it was only fitting that the left-footed defender, desperately impersonating a center forward, should conjure up the tying finish with his wrong foot.
He was one of your heroes on a night of heroes. As was the king of the super-subs, Frattesi who notched the winner and then hyperventilated, collapsing on the pitch. As was the scion of football royalty (look up his dad, Lilian), Marcus Thuram, bulldozing through the first half and then winning the game through smarts and grit. As was Nicolò Barella, whichever one of the two or three who appeared to be on the pitch. As was Alessandro Bastoni, the man with the Gumby-build and the Gaudi touch. As was Denzel Dumfries: named for a movie star, built like a wrestling star, more drive than a weekend’s binge-watch of Netflix’s Formula 1 nonsense.
As was pretty much everyone in the blue-and-black, although the man of the match went to Sommer, the 36-year-old Swiss keeper. His string of saves — seven in total, several on Yamal — made all the difference. And, yes, his story is improbable too, evidence of the game’s (heck, life’s) weird sliding doors.
The only reason he’s at Inter Milan is that, two years ago, after reaching the Champions League final in Istanbul, Inter were forced to transfer their standout keeper, André Onana. Why? Because years of mismanagement and profligate spending meant they operated under the shackles of financial sustainability rules, trying to escape debt incurred seasons ago. That’s how they ended up with Sommer, unwanted by Bayern Munich.
Let’s not forget the standout who didn’t actually step on the pitch. The guy with the hang-dog expression, floppy thinning hair, more famous brother and about as much of an ego as a monkey wrench: Inter boss Inzaghi. Just like two years ago, his band of rejects, aging maestros and self-made stars overcame the odds to reach the biggest game in club football. Just like two years ago, a whole bunch of unbelievers were forced to see the light. Inzaghi might have an ego the size of a mustard seed, he might not look the part, he might not have a “philosophy” that folks right treatises about. All he does is squeeze the best out of the players he leads.
That’s called coaching. — Gabriele Marcotti
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Klinsmann hails Yann Sommer’s heroics in Inter’s semifinal win
Jurgen Klinsmann names Inter goalkeeper Yann Sommer as his man of the match after coming up with some huge saves to deny Barcelona.
Barça beaten, but this season is still a triumph
When the dust settles on this season, Barça’s crestfallen players will have plenty to be proud of. Defeat to Inter ended their hopes of a first Champions League title in a decade and killed off their treble dreams, but they have already won the Spanish Supercopa and the Copa del Rey and have a four-point lead at the top of LaLiga. What’s more, this is a young side, led by Yamal and Pedri, that is writing a new chapter in the club’s history, not dwelling on the past.
They played their part in this remarkable semifinal, coming back time and again, just as they have done throughout the season. They twice came from two goals down against Inter, albeit to ultimately lose the tie, but had better luck when twice coming from two behind against Atlético Madrid and Benfica. They also fought back from a losing position to beat Real Madrid in last week’s Copa del Rey final.
This is a team characterized by its fighting spirit. There are no longer any inferiority complexes in Europe. Olmo described the atmosphere among the players before this second leg as being like a “party.” European ghosts of the past — those defeats against AS Roma and Liverpool in 2018 and 2019, respectively — are no longer a hang-up for this side.
It’s a mentality that has transferred to the fans. The 4,000 in Milan carried banners that read “We are back” and there is once again a belief Flick’s great entertainers can compete with Europe’s best. In part, that is thanks to Yamal, who not only has established himself among the world’s best players this season, but has a self-confidence that is infectious among the squad.
There are weaknesses, of course. Inter exploited them at times — targeting Barça’s high line in transitions and attacking them at set plays — while they also gave away soft goals. But more often than not, Flick’s high-risk, high-reward style has paid off. And they won’t change it Sunday, when they have the perfect chance to quickly move on from this defeat, a Clásico against Real Madrid. Beat Los Blancos and they will have one hand on the LaLiga title. — Marsden
Yamal shines in football’s ultimate showcase
This, in it’s own way, was more evidence of Yamal’s 24-karat diamond nature, skill, attitude and preternatural ability to turn up on the biggest occasions.
If you saw him for the first time Tuesday, then perhaps you wouldn’t fully have understood the fact that, before the match, both his manager and the hard-nosed, seen-it-all Inzaghi of Inter called him “a genius.” That’s because our viewing eyes were drawn to astonishing goal contributions last week: the wriggle, tickle and thump that brought Barcelona back into the tie at their Olympic stadium and the mad, showy, dandy dummy from the second-half corner from which Raphinha rocketed Barcelona’s spectacular third goal home.
But this, believe me, was a test of fire for the kid. A lumpy, slippery pitch, hostile atmosphere, wily, aggressive opponents and a referee who (although he was excellent) truly allowed old-school fouls and physical contact without immediately blowing his whistle, running to the felled player and offering a hug and a kiss. Yamal took his lumps. But from start to finish — first with a pallid Barcelona who looked sloppy, tentative and error-prone — he wanted the ball, he tested Inter, he carried the flag.
Just before the half-hour mark, already 1-0 down, he plucked the ball out of the night sky, controlled, turned and flicked. Barcelona attacked but the beatific thing came from the 17-year-old. The Blaugrana rose and roared; he played football from the heavens. For the second week in a row, his marker, Federico Dimarco, was hauled off — red-faced, lungs screaming for mercy, glad to be out of danger.
Before that mad, merciful end for both teams, he’d brought out two of the saves of the Champions League season from Sommer, he’d hit the post and he’d nearly scored a last-minute winner at 3-3.
Above all, let’s just appreciate Yamal; he is football. What he does brings joy, astonishment, he lives our dreams, he tricks, he teases, and he just looks fate in the face and says, “Test me again. I’ve got more!” — Graham Hunter
Eagle-eyed VAR gets it right
More simply put, without VAR, referee Szymon Marciniak does not award the penalty for Pau Cubarsí’s last-ditch tackle on Lautaro. There is simply no way he could have seen Cubarsí fail to make contact with the ball.
This was not a case of “do nothing and let VAR sort it out.” It simply didn’t look like a penalty. And, in fact, it didn’t look like a penalty in the first three replays that were shown. All of them suggest Cubarsí gets the ball first. And then comes the fourth, which leaves zero doubt: Cubarsí’s contact is with Lautaro. That’s what the referee was shown and that’s why the penalty was awarded.
You might like or dislike VAR, but there is little question that its effectiveness depends on what replays are available. And how absence of evidence in the first few replays doesn’t mean there will be evidence of absence (of a foul) in the fourth. — Marcotti
Flick’s faith in his selections
By halftime, the decision was obvious, wasn’t it? Olmo had been anonymous, except when he pretty much gave away the first Inter goal. Gerard Martín had scatter-gun given the ball away, his pass-completion rate to blue-and-black-shirted players was about as high as to his teammates; he was involved in the breakdown of possession that led to Inter’s second, from the penalty spot.
What made things worse, of course, was that Olmo came into this match having been involved in similar incidents that served only to show that, post-injury, he has been searching for that elusive combination of sharpness, confidence and form. And they’ve been escaping him. He gave the ball away against Netherlands at Mestalla when Spain only shook off Ronald Koeman’s team on penalties. He gave the ball away against Celta Vigo in that recent thriller in which Barcelona, so typical, were losing 3-1 in the 64th minute but came back to win.
What made things worse, of course, in the case of Martín, was that he was whipped off at halftime against the Nerazzurri last week; correctly pinpointed by his manager as having been at fault (no press for the first Inter goal, outjumped and outwrestled by Acerbi for the second). How on earth was a kid like that expected to suddenly be good enough to help defeat Inter at San Siro six days later? Even Marca headlined their second-half coverage with: “The same lot get sent out again.”
Of course, what do I know? Honestly.
Martín’s cross for Barcelona’s goal might have been on the hopeful side, but it worked, it counts and it helped produce a wondergoal. Then Olmo: maybe not dominant, still off his stellar best, but effective, impactful. Able to put his team back on level terms.
Sometimes we all just have to trust; journalists and fans in smart, experienced fellas like Flick; smart, experienced fellas like Flick in willing, talented and, here, on-the-spot footballers. The dramatic finale was what it was, but hats off to Hansi. — Hunter
