My Ultimate Gacha System-Chapter 311 - 299: Coppa Italia Final - Milan Vs Atalanta III
He cuts inside and shoots from eighteen yards without taking an extra touch, and the ball deflects off Tolói’s outstretched leg while he’s sliding to block and the deflection completely wrong-foots Musso who has committed to diving left.
The ball loops over Musso’s dive and drops into the net.
GOAL: ATALANTA 0-3 AC MILAN (38’)
Silence spreads across the Atalanta section and the supporters who have been singing throughout the match go quiet while their flags stop waving, and Milan’s end erupts with noise that feels like victory has already been secured.
Red smoke rises from the curva and drifts across the upper tiers while Leão slides on his knees toward the corner flag with both arms raised, and Milan players surround him while celebrating a goal that feels like it might have ended the final despite forty-five minutes remaining.
The scoreboard confirms what everyone can see.
ATALANTA 0-3 MILAN (38’)
38’ - 45’+1’ |
Atalanta restart again but the belief is visibly shaken and passes that were crisp earlier now arrive slightly off target, and runs that were timed perfectly in the opening thirty minutes now happen a second too early or too late.
Milan sit deeper now because protecting a three-goal lead is easier than continuing to attack, and they absorb pressure without difficulty while Atalanta dominate possession but create nothing clear.
In the forty-third minute Demien tries again because giving up isn’t an option regardless of the scoreline, and he receives near the halfway line before driving forward with the ball at his feet.
He beats Bennacer with a drop of the shoulder that sells the fake completely, and he continues toward the box while Tomori and Kalulu both close down the angle by narrowing the space between them.
Demien shapes to shoot and both defenders react by dropping deeper to block, and in that moment he drags his foot across the ball and threads it between both defenders toward the space where Højlund is making a late run from deep.
「LEGENDARY SKILL ACTIVATED」
Andrea Pirlo — Deep-Lying Playmaker
The pass is inch-perfect and weighted so that Højlund doesn’t need to break stride, and suddenly he’s through on goal with only Maignan to beat.
The stadium inhales and even Milan supporters recognize the danger, and Højlund takes one touch to steady before striking with his right foot while trying to place it low.
Maignan rushes out and spreads himself wide while his body fills as much space as possible, and the ball hits his leg and deflects behind for a corner before Højlund can adjust to place it differently.
Højlund collapses forward onto the grass with his hands covering his head while frustration pours out of him, and Demien stands with hands on hips while staring at the sky briefly because that was another chance that should have resulted in a goal.
The fourth official raises the board showing one minute of added time, and Atalanta take the corner quickly because every second matters now.
The ball swings into the penalty area and bodies converge at the near post, but Giroud is strongest and heads clear before any Atalanta player can connect, and Milan counter one more time though the attack breaks down near halfway when Leão’s pass forward is intercepted.
The referee checks his watch and raises the whistle to his lips.
Fweeeeeetttttttt! Fweeeeeetttttttt! Fweeeeeetttttttt!
HALFTIME: ATALANTA 0-3 AC MILAN
Players immediately turn toward their respective tunnels and Milan players jog off with arms around each other while their voices carry celebration that’s audible even over the crowd noise, and Atalanta walk separately with heads down while the weight of the scoreline shows in every stride.
The scoreboard glows above the empty center circle.
ATALANTA 0-3 MILAN
Commentary Booth
"An absolutely brutal first half for Atalanta," the lead commentator says while the broadcast shows highlights. "They’ve played well enough to be in this match—created five clear scoring opportunities—but Milan’s clinical finishing and some outstanding goalkeeping from Mike Maignan have left them three goals down at halftime."
"Demien Walter has been exceptional in midfield," his colleague adds while Walter’s key passes are shown in sequence. "Every chance Atalanta created came through him—the turn and pass for Scamacca, the clipped ball for Koopmeiners, the switch for Lookman, the through ball for Højlund. He’s doing everything right but his teammates simply cannot convert tonight."
The camera cuts to Gasperini walking down the tunnel and his face is set without visible emotion, and the broadcast holds on that image for three seconds before cutting to commercial.
Stadio Olimpico
Atalanta Dressing Room
Halftime
Inside the Atalanta dressing room no one sits immediately when they enter, and players stand against the walls with towels around their necks and water bottles in their hands while breathing hard from forty-five minutes of sustained effort.
Musso sits on the bench with his head in his hands and his gloves rest beside him on the wood, and de Roon leans against the tactics board while staring at nothing in particular because processing what just happened requires silence rather than immediate reaction.
Scamacca sits with his shirt pulled up over his face and his shoulders shake once before he composes himself, and across the room Lookman stands with arms folded while his jaw is clenched tight enough that the muscles are visible.
Gasperini enters and the door closes behind him, and he walks to the center of the room before standing there for ten seconds without speaking while players gradually look up to see him waiting.
Silence fills the space except for breathing and distant stadium noise bleeding through the walls.
"Three-zero," he says finally, and his voice is calm and almost quiet rather than raised or aggressive. "Istanbul was three-zero at halftime."
Players look up and the reference lands immediately because everyone remembers that Champions League final in 2005 when Liverpool came back from three goals down against AC Milan, and the implication is clear without needing elaboration.
"You’ve created five clear chances," he continues while his hands stay in his pockets. "Five. On another night you score four of them and we’re winning this match. But not tonight. Tonight their goalkeeper is having the game of his life and the ball isn’t falling for us."
He pauses and steps closer to the tactics board where magnetic pieces show formations.
"So we change the approach," he says while moving pieces to demonstrate. "Demien, you drop deeper in possession. Let them press you. When they commit forward, we go direct over their press. Lookman, Scamacca—you stay higher. Don’t drop to receive. Force them back. When Demien finds you in space, finish."
He looks around the room and makes eye contact with each player individually for a moment before moving to the next.
"Forty-five minutes," he says, and his voice carries finality. "That’s all we have left. But forty-five minutes is enough if you believe it’s enough."
Another pause while the silence stretches.
"You believe we can do this?" he asks.
De Roon nods first without hesitation, and then Ederson follows, and then Lookman, and one by one every player in the room nods or speaks agreement because giving up isn’t an option regardless of how impossible the comeback might seem.
"Good," Gasperini says, and his expression doesn’t change. "Because I do. Now get ready."
He turns and walks out of the dressing room, and the door closes behind him while the room stays quiet for five seconds as his words settle.
Then Demien stands from where he’s been sitting and adjusts his shirt before beginning to retape his wrists, and Koopmeiners does the same across the room, and one by one players begin moving again—stretching, refocusing, preparing for the second half that will determine whether this season ends with silverware or with nothing.
The door opens and an official in a black uniform appears.
"Two minutes," he says before disappearing back into the corridor.
Players file out of the dressing room and into the tunnel where the corridor leads back toward the pitch, and the noise from the stadium grows louder with every step as drums and chants filter down through concrete and steel.
Milan supporters are still celebrating and their voices dominate the atmosphere, while Atalanta supporters try to will their team forward with chants that carry desperation rather than confidence.
Both teams emerge from their respective dressing rooms and form lines in the tunnel, and Milan players look confident and relaxed because three-zero at halftime in a cup final suggests the job is nearly done, while Atalanta players look focused and determined because the alternative to fighting is accepting defeat.
The referee checks both lineups and confirms no substitutions have been made by either manager, and he signals them forward with one raised hand.
The teams walk out and the roar crashes down again from sixty thousand voices, and the second half is about to begin.
