Sevilla withered against Borussia Dortmund (2-3) in one of their most disastrous performances of the period. The Germans crushed those of Lopetegui, who blamed the blows for Haaland, majestic and definitive. De Jong’s objective in 85 lit up the subsequent leg. Borussia Dortmund yapped and Sevilla bit. In moment 6, after a decent guest start, Suso bluffed in the region fragment. First, he compromised the shot with the great one, with his left, at that point he settled it on the privilege and kicked unsurprising yet with confidence. Hummels, delicate, to some degree covered, harmed the ball, dwelling it in the net of his goalkeeper, a dazed Hitz. A self-destructive leeway. The time had come to climb. The neighborhood dream wound up transforming into a bad dream.

Jadon Sancho, with his spilling, with his sharpness, kept the soul on in his. Their teeth had scarcely dove into the substance. The objective against them was not seen, unexpectedly, they had set their boots ablaze. Haaland rotated, restoring each ball he got, battling with the centrals, mellowing the Germans’ assault. Awkward those of Lopetegui; light, warm, unrecognizable. In the twentieth moment, the Norwegian dropped to a band. He got the ball there, far away. He restrained her, really focused on her, and gave her fleecy and delicate to Dahoud, who was slinking the adversary territory. The German-Syrian midfielder, with space, arranged the shot with culinary delicacy, to his adoration, putting the unimaginable ball for Bono, who flew to no end.

The objective fell Sevilla, who failed to remember the arranged arrangement. Neither pressing factor, nor success on the sides, nor seriousness behind. Unadulterated perfection. Only eight minutes after the fact, Haaland held onto the ball, ran towards the entryway without being impeded, magnificent, with Diego Carlos drawing back, turned away, metus reverential; The forward inclined toward Sancho, who returned it with accuracy, avoiding the red-and-white rearguard, letting him be before Bono. I don’t excuse. What an extraordinary handball player Norway lost. Parquet move, twenty by forty. On the off chance that a rival had wrecked him, they would have whistled seven meters.

One thing is the prevalence and another is a misfortune. Sevilla was made of mud. Erin Terzic’s men sniffed the bewilderment and squeezed irately. Papu Gómez lost a ball in the focal point of the field. The BVB mounted a savage counter. Reus hauled the ball to Bono’s region and respected Haaland who, goodness shock, was constant once more, beating the Moroccan with a cross and low shot. The game was away for the Nervionenses before the display of the other extraordinary European monster, which appeared to react to Mbappé. The kid has 18 objectives in 13 Champions League games. Furthermore, he is 20 years of age. A few numbers without conceivable correlation. The rest was a towel shaken before the face, some air behind the cover.

Rakitic surrendered his situation to Gudelj after the recess. Lopetegui needed to stop the dying, clutch the game like the Coyote to the branch. Papu started dynamic, effectively used to the outrageous, searching for a clear En-Nesyri during the principal half. In any case, nothing worked. The punching of his group in the primary minutes after the restart wound up disrupting Lopetegui, who took a gander at the check-in disarray. Munir, De Jong, and Oliver Torres entered the field, trading the Sevilla assaulting point. Pitiful and urgent before the protection of Dortmund, deduced, one of their frail focuses.

Borussia Dortmund held up patient, systematic, foolish. Destruction of Akanji to De Jong in the zone enlivened the beat of the Sevilla fans. Makkelie didn’t see a punishment. With twenty minutes to go, Sevilla was lost in the focal point of the field, in the maze of their barrenness, gruff, unfit to upset Hitz, a simple onlooker, with the latex of his gloves still perfect. Without thoughts in the creation, Oscar Rodriguez entered to open a window with a set-piece. Any quest for light is noteworthy. Furthermore, the midfielder nearly prevailing in his first appearance, a free-kick that collided with the correct post of the Swiss goalkeeper of the Rhineland.

You could see the dull stands, the fatigue, the detailed dark yellow conclusion. Terzic started giving his group oxygen. Passlack and Brandt came out to contain the last arreón of Sevilla, that confident objective for a return that will resemble moving on the glass. An objective that came, that didn’t stay in the limbo of the ideal objectives, in that imperceptible layer. There are no saints without accomplishments, and Sevilla had indeed been associated with a marvel. Oscar helped De Jong who, frigid, crossed before the meeting goalkeeper. An objective that is iodine for an injury that appeared to be profound.