At one end of the ground, one team stood, exhausted, in the penalty area in front of their fans and were warmly applauded. At the other, their opponents could barely approach the box before being driven back by the fury of their support. The oddity was, it was Ukraine who had gone out who were celebrated, and Belgium who had gone through who were booed and jeered to such an extent that Kevin De Bruyne told the players to go to the dressing room.
In the end, Ukraine just didn’t have the energy or the guile. They will feel unfortunate to have been eliminated from the Euros having picked up four points, the same as every other side in the group, more than Denmark who qualified in second and various third-placed teams. But in the final minutes, when it became apparent that they would need a goal after all, they had nothing.
There are bigger issues at stake, of course, as indicated by the way Belgium’s fans applauded the Ukrainian anthem. In every interview, every press conference, their players have talked about waiting for news from home, of knowing friends and relatives huddling round a single radio or phone to follow games, of the anguish of those back home. If their prime job was to remind the world of the war they are fighting, they have done it admirably. That was what their fans were recognising in their applause, that and a basic togetherness in adversity.
Reaching the knockouts, though, was always going to be difficult for Ukraine once they’d lost their opening game 3-0 to Romania. There were some set plays late on that caused Belgium anxious moments, one close-range Artem Dovbyk shot from a throw-in that Koen Casteels blocked well, and one ferocious Ruslan Malinovskyi strike that thudded into the midriff of Youri Tielemans, but never anything sustained.
Not that Belgium were a huge amount better. In their away kit inspired by Tintin, they were extremely reliant on their most Tintin-like player, De Bruyne. Even Tintin, though, has his supporting cast, his Captain Haddock, his Snowy, his Thomson and Thompson. A few dribbles from Jérémy Doku aside, De Bruyne felt as if he had to do it alone.
Saturday 29 June
Switzerland vs Italy (Berlin, 5pm, all times BST)
Germany vs Denmark (Dortmund, 8pm)
Sunday 30 June
England vs Slovakia (Gelsenkirchen, 5pm)
Spain vs Georgia (Cologne, 8pm)
Monday 1 July
France vs Belgium (Düsseldorf, 5pm)
Portugal vs Slovenia (Frankfurt, 8pm)
Tuesday 2 July
Romania vs Netherlands (Munich, 5pm)
Austria vs Türkiye (Leipzig, 8pm)
The fury of their fans was understandable. Perhaps they were concerned by the possibility of conceding a goal that would have eliminated them but, still, it was bizarre to see just how negative Belgium were, running down the clock, holding the ball in the corner, protecting second place when that assured them a last-16 tie against France, with the prospect of Portugal and Germany or Spain to come. A win and they’d have been facing a best third-place side in the notionally easier side of the draw.
But every Belgium match these days eventually comes down to one major issue: the lucklessness of Romelu Lukaku. What happened to him? Did he do a Mephistophelean deal one day when he was very young, that he would grow up to have the physique of Didier Drogba, the capacity to hold the ball up of Niall Quinn, the movement of Thomas Müller, but that one day, long after he’d become his country’s top scorer (if he gets eight more goals, which admittedly could take a while at present rate, he’ll have as many as Belgium’s second, third and fourth top scorers combined), he would suddenly lose the ability to score?
His performance against Croatia at the World Cup was mesmerising. At first you laughed because you thought it couldn’t go on, and then it all became a bit uncomfortable. What had he done to anger the gods that they would repay him like this, by making him miss over and over and over again? Some efforts went close. Some were saved. Some were ruled out. Self-belief began to ebb; it was like watching the trials of Job condensed into 90 minutes in the Qatari desert.
Surely, whatever he had done, the debt had been repaid? But his tribulations have gone on. Three times he’s put the ball in the net at this tournament; none of them have counted. First there was a distinct offside. Then there was a very modern handball in the buildup by Loïs Openda. Then there was a hair’s breadth offside after he had taken a chance against Romania adroitly.
Little wonder if he had begun to doubt himself. Who wouldn’t? Seven minutes in, De Bruyne slipped him through with a characteristically deft through ball. Lukaku ran on. He was clear. He was onside. It was a glorious linkup. He set himself to strike a reverse shot back across Anatoliy Trubin and … almost missed the ball altogether, scuffing it softy to the keeper.
A Doku cross was just too far ahead of him, then having crafted a reasonable opportunity in the right side of the box, he sidefooted his shot so Trubin could save comfortably. That was Lukaku’s seventh attempt on target of the tournament, more than anybody else, and yet somehow he still didn’t have a goal.
On this showing, he might not get many more chances.
