Chapter 738 - 738: Chapter-736 The Situation

Time raced on.

The halftime adjustments were over in a blink.

As the players from both sides walked back onto the pitch, the crowd's cheers surged up again, filling the stadium.

Julien watched the German players and wondered what changes Löw might make. Germany, after all, still had more cards up its sleeve than France did.

France, in the end, simply lacked the squad depth.

Soon—Peep!

The referee's whistle cut across Maracanã once more. The second half was officially underway.

After the restart, Germany carried on with the same tactical approach from the first half.

Not much had changed.

They held a firm grip on midfield, Kroos and Schweinsteiger stringing together short passes to stretch France's defensive shape, probing for an opening, trying to break the 1–1 deadlock.

And compared to the first half, Germany's attacking intensity had picked up.

The wide runs came tougher now, Özil was switching between centre and flank again and again, trying to tear open a gap in France's defence. Khedira and Müller combined more fluidly too, threading several dangerous moves.

In the 50th minute, Germany launched a fierce attack. Kroos sent a pass through the middle; Klose dropped deep to collect it, then quickly shifted the ball wide. Lahm crossed from the right, and Müller rose to meet it in the box, flicking a header at goal but the ball sailed just wide.

The shot missed by a fair margin. But the move itself had worked exactly as drawn up.

Lloris made the save with everything he had, then shouted at his back line, urging them to stay focused.

Julien kept his eyes locked on his teammates too.

All they could do now was hope the defence held.

Of course, Julien remained the biggest threat on the attacking end. Pinned back as France was, they weren't simply absorbing pressure. Their sharp counters kept giving Germany's back line trouble, again and again.

And at the heart of it all was Julien.

In Deschamps' second-half setup, Julien had been given more freedom to roam, and his teammates were working harder to create chances for him. That had unleashed his threat completely, turning him into the single biggest headache for the German defence.

In the 55th minute, Cabaye won the ball off Özil in midfield with a clean tackle and slid it forward. Julien used his speed to shake off Hummels in an instant and burst straight for the box.

Lahm scrambled back to cut him off.

Julien beat him with one sharp change of direction, then curled a left-footed shot from inside the box, only for Neuer to fling himself across and palm it away!

Julien watched the ball get parried and clapped his hands in frustration.

He'd done everything right up to that point.

The chance had been there. But the last piece—the finish hadn't gotten past Neuer. There was no denying it: the keeper was in outstanding form today, and his reflexes on high balls were making life miserable for France.

That attack alone was enough to make Löw's brow furrow. He gestured urgently toward the pitch, signalling his back line to double up on Julien.

But Julien's individual quality was simply too much. Even with two men marking him, he kept manufacturing danger through sheer skill and pace.

In the 60th minute, Julien picked up the ball in midfield, danced past challenges from both Kroos and Khedira, drove all the way down the right, and whipped in a low, driven cross. Griezmann was there to meet it in the middle.

Unfortunately, whether it was the nerves of the big stage or the brutal heat, Griezmann just wasn't himself today.

His touch was off. He couldn't quite bring the ball under control—it ran a hair too far and Hummels, tracking back, got there first to snuff out the danger.

Another chance to retake the lead was gone.

Griezmann shook his head, clearly frustrated with himself.

Out on the pitch, the tension kept climbing.

Germany pushed and pushed but couldn't find the breakthrough, attack after attack crashing against France's defence.

Worse, they kept running into French counters that left their own back line under real strain.

Up in the stands at Maracanã, German and French fans traded chants back and forth, wave after wave of noise, each side roaring for their own.

On the touchline, the two managers wore matching expressions of grim concentration.

Deschamps kept his eyes locked on Julien out on the pitch, gesturing toward the field every so often.

Löw, meanwhile, paced back and forth without pause—clearly frustrated that his team couldn't break the deadlock, and just as clearly out of answers for Julien. He knew that if they couldn't contain him, Germany would struggle to force the issue, and might even find themselves caught out on the break.

Sixty-five minutes were gone. The scoreboard still read 1–1.

Germany and France remained locked in stalemate.

In the 67th minute, Germany pushed forward again.

Kroos held the ball in midfield, pointing to direct a teammate's run while his eyes stayed fixed on the gaps in France's defence.

Suddenly, Kroos spotted a small crack in France's midfield and slid a pass straight through it!

Thump!

The ball sliced through the midfield line, running straight to Özil.

Cabaye, tasked with marking Özil, made a fatal mistake at that exact moment. He let his concentration slip for just a second, lost his tight marking, and drifted out of position—by the time he reacted, he was already half a step too slow.

Özil, with his sharp movement and footwork, shook Cabaye off with ease.

He was about to breeze past him completely!

In a panic, Cabaye completely lost his composure. Desperate to stop the run, he threw caution to the wind and lunged into a sliding tackle, trying to win the ball.

But in his panic, he lost control of the challenge.

His studs never touched the ball—instead, they slammed straight into Özil's ankle.

"AAAH!!!"

Özil let out a scream of pain, his body pitched off balance in an instant.

He crashed hard to the turf, both hands clutching his ankle, face twisted in agony, fists pounding the grass again and again.

Clearly, it was no minor injury.

The referee was right there, close enough to see every second of it clearly.

The moment Özil hit the ground, he didn't hesitate for even a second. He sprinted straight to the spot, waved the team doctor onto the field with one hand, and with the other pulled a blazing red card from his pocket, holding it high.

Cabaye was sent off on the spot for a malicious, dangerous tackle.

That single red card didn't just leave France a man down—it tore a huge hole in their midfield defence.

The pitch fell into chaos in an instant.

German players swarmed toward the referee. Lahm, Kroos, and others gestured furiously at him, faces twisted with anger, demanding action over what they called a malicious foul—while glancing over, concerned, at Özil still down on the ground.

The French players rushed over too. Pogba, Julien, and others crowded around the referee, arguing, trying to talk him into reversing the decision.

Cabaye stood frozen where he was, head down, both hands covering his face—regret and helplessness was across every bit of it. He knew exactly what he'd done: his mistake had just dealt his team a devastating blow.

The team doctor rushed onto the pitch, crouching beside Özil to carefully examine his ankle.

After the examination, he immediately waved for the stretcher and signalled to Löw that a substitution was needed.

Özil couldn't continue.

Supported by his teammates, he was carefully lifted onto the stretcher.

His face was twisted with pain, his eyes were full of longing for the pitch he was being carried off of. He knew he couldn't finish this match—he'd have to leave early.

And if Germany advanced, there was probably no way for him to play in the rounds that followed either.

At that moment, the German fans inside Maracanã rose to their feet as one, applauding in Özil's direction, sending him off with their support—while a wave of furious boos rained down, aimed straight at Cabaye for the foul.

The French fans, meanwhile, were gripped by a wave of anxiety.

A large number of them sat with their heads in their hands, faces showing with worry. They understood exactly what a man down meant: things had just gotten much harder for France.

At that moment, commentator Alphonse spoke up as well: "This red card alone could change the entire course of the match. I imagine I'm feeling exactly what all of you are right now—shock, and a knot of worry in my chest.

There's no controversy in the referee's decision to show that straight red. Cabaye's tackle was reckless and dangerous, full stop, and he's paying the price for his mistake and his loss of composure.

And France, because of it, now finds itself in a position of disadvantage like nothing we've seen so far this match.

We have to be clear-eyed about how devastating this red card really is. Cabaye was the anchor of France's midfield defence, and with him gone, France isn't just down to ten men—their already shaky midfield has completely caved in.

In the first half, Cabaye holding down the middle was just barely enough to disrupt Germany's passing rhythm. Now, with him gone, there's a huge hole in France's midfield, and Germany's control of possession is going to get even more relentless. The pressure on France's defence is about to multiply many times over.

And here's the thing that really matters: this red card has blown up every plan Deschamps had for the second half. His team has no choice now but to abandon counterattacking football altogether and shift into pure, desperate defence.

Personally, I think this might be the moment to bring Kanté on and see what he can do.

Though, more often than not, Deschamps has preferred Cabaye over Kanté.

At the same time, Germany has taken a hit too, with Özil forced off injured. As the connective heart of Germany's attack, Özil's movement and passing have been key to breaking this deadlock—his absence is bound to disrupt Germany's attacking rhythm as well…"

On the touchline, even as the commentary was still working through what this meant for both sides, both managers scrambled to respond to the sudden turn of events.

Löw's expression was grave. He worked to calm his players on the pitch while quickly settling on a substitution, signalling Götze on the bench to get ready to replace the injured Özil.

Götze started warming up at once.

On the other side, Deschamps' face had gone even darker. His brow was furrowed tight, hands on his hips, pacing back and forth, his eyes were heavy with concern.

With Cabaye gone on a red card, France's midfield defence was effectively wide open. Sticking with the current setup while down a man was close to unsustainable.

After a brief moment of thought, he made his own substitution.

He decisively signalled Koscielny and Kanté on the bench to get ready, then waved off Griezmann and Giroud.

Griezmann had struggled all match, never managing to give the team any real attacking support. Hearing the call for the substitution, he trudged off with his head down, looking deflated.

Giroud patted a teammate on the shoulder on his way off, his expression was resigned.

He understood: the team needed to shore up its defence right now, and his coming off was about clearing space for another defensive body.

Kanté jogged into midfield, and Koscielny came straight on to reinforce the back line, lining up alongside Varane and Sakho to cover the gap Cabaye's dismissal had torn open.

Deschamps waved Julien over, clapped him on the shoulder, and gave him his instructions: "Julien, we're down a man now, and the defensive pressure is going to be intense. I need you pushed all the way up top, focused purely on the counter. The moment there's a chance, you take it—full commitment. Right now, you're the only way we hold this scoreline, or even find a way back in front."

Julien nodded firmly.

He knew it. Right now, he was France's only hope.

After this round of substitutions, France genuinely had almost no attacking presence left outside of him. Everything now rested on one man.

This was Deschamps gambling, plain and simple.

Gambling that France could hold the line—and gambling that Julien could somehow conjure a goal out of nothing.

But how it would turn out, nobody knew.

With the substitutions made, Götze came on for Özil—essentially a like-for-like swap.

Kanté and Koscielny's introduction, meanwhile, restructured France's whole setup.

They completely abandoned their forward configuration, committing everything to defence, relying on Julien's individual brilliance to spark quick counters.

Right on cue, Alphonse watched both sides make their adjustments and offered his analysis:

"Löw has moved fast with this substitution—Götze on for the injured Özil.

It's a smart call. Götze's got refined touch and a gift for linking up play, plus a strong eye for goal. Once he settles in, he should slot straight into Germany's passing rhythm and cover for Özil's absence—and he might even have the energy to exploit France's numerical disadvantage and finally break this deadlock.

Now, over on the French side—Deschamps' substitutions tell a story of desperation, but also show his strong tactical instinct under pressure.

He's decisively pulled Griezmann, who's struggled all match, along with his pivotal point up top in Giroud, bringing on Kanté and Koscielny instead. Make no mistake, this is a switch completely toward defence.

Koscielny is a rock at the back—he's on to shore up the defensive line. Kanté is there to plug the hole Cabaye left behind in midfield.

Reinforce the back line, hold off Germany's waves of attack as best they can.

Some of you watching might be wondering—if Giroud and Griezmann are off, what happens to France's attack?

The answer's simple. Deschamps has already given up on any conventional forward setup.

He knows well that with a man down, breaking this deadlock through orthodox attacking play is close to impossible. So, he's chosen to defend with everything he has and pin every hope on the counter.

And the heart of that counter, without question, is one man.

Right now, France is standing at the edge of the abyss.

I think every French fan out there right now is asking themselves the same question: in this desperate hour, who can we still count on?

It doesn't take much thought to answer that. Everyone already knows.

Only Julien.

From his first-half volley that levelled the score, to time and again in the second half single-handedly tearing open Germany's defence, Julien has already proven he's France's most reliable player—the only hope left in this desperate hour.

Deschamps pushing him up top is the clearest proof of that.

Right now, the balance of this match has swung completely toward Germany. They hold every advantage.

And France has nothing left but one final lifeline…

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