The San Siro was uncharacteristically silent after Lecce's second goal.
It wasn't the silence of disappointment or the lull that came from boredom. No, this was different. This was the hush of a stunned colossus, a stadium full of giants and believers who had just been punched in the mouth by someone they never saw coming. The away fans celebrated in a corner of the stadium like lunatics, waving their yellow and red scarves and leaping into one another's arms. But for the rest of San Siro, it was as if someone had pressed pause.
Alex Walker didn't wave, didn't scream, didn't even glance at the camera that had lingered on his face for three full seconds. He stood with his arms crossed on the edge of the technical area, mouth in a tight line, eyes tracking the shape of his team as they fell back into the new structure.
