Well played, The Guardian.

He and Kaka are the sort of players who prompt comparisons with other forms of art. Music, most obviously. Ronaldo’s mode is allegro molto vivace, with a pronounced fondness for bursts of staccato phrasing via those quick-stepping feet, his unorthodoxy extending to the fearless introduction of techniques that others might unveil only in rehearsal, for the amusement of their colleagues. Kaka plays at a permanent andante cantabile, with a sweetly flowing grace, his devastating sprint a thing of seemingly unhurried beauty, his body swaying as one change of direction blends seamlessly into another.

My Hope-O-Meter was at close to zero for this game. It will droop even lower for the second leg but, if it is half as good as this one was, I’ll enjoy it immensely even if, as I fear, we don’t win.