For just three seconds, Kylian Mbappe suspended his own memory of the game. Of his sufferings of the day, of his seeming detachment to the game, of the feeling of a stranger trapped in his shirt. Then the instincts kicked in, the muscle memory honed to robotic precision took over. When the superlative Micahel Olise stitched a pass into his side, he swayed and opened his body, carving space for his right foot to come around the ball, and struck it diagonally into the nets, past the lunging Senegal goalkeeper Eduoard Mendy. The goal, in the 66th minute, was the moment of Mbappe’s salvation. And France’s. The exact moment when an imposter became the original. It’s the sign of greatness, to be amnesic to the travails of the day, not be tormented by the past, to not let the evening fade into disillusionment, and to lift himself and his country at the ripest moment. His own mood changed, from petulance to rapturing. The celebrations were restrained; he turned back, searched for Olise’s face among the tide of blue waves and thanked him. Olise being shunted from the right flank to just behind Mbappe for more link-up play was the tactic that changed the game. The renditions of Allez Les Bleu regained its thundering note. The sun felt a little less harsher; the frothing liquid in the hands of the fans turned a little sweeter. From impassive strugglers, France roused to become the tournament frontrunner they were touted to be. Sixteen minutes later, Bradley Barcola nicked a second goal. But that was not the afternoon. There was a twist and a bolter from Mbappe. The match veered into a knife’s edge when Ibrahim Mbaye slashed the deficit in the fourth minute of the stoppage time. Senegal frantically sought for an equaliser. Suspense bubbled, but Mbappe produced the antidote with a thunderbolt from 30 yards. A short that felt like an axe slicing through a tree. The ball sliced the air, swerved late and cannoned onto the nets. Mbappe, fully liberated, struck the statue pose near the dugouts. An aura burnished around him. In the blue shirt of France, he unfailingly delivers, scoring as he did in his third World Cup. A World Cup behemoth is in the making. He became the only man to net a brace in five games in the tournament. He is only three behind Miroslav Klose’s all-time record. And he is merely 27. France’s Kylian Mbappe scores their opening goal during the World Cup. (AP photo) When the final whistle blew, the scoreline flattering France and masking the numerous nervous moments they endured, Mbappe sprang towards an enclosure near the corner flag and blew kisses towards the crowd. A day that had begun so forlornly ended in raucous joy. The mood was distinctly different when the half-time whistle blew, a continuation of his troubled season he had endured at Real Madrid. The ruthless evening sun peering into his eyes, Mbappe lumbered into the steep tunnel that led to the locker room. His face was half sunk in his shirt, as though he was ashamed of himself. He emotionlessly slapped hands with the support staff members commiserating him. His mind was not in the moment. It was wandering, drifting, running through the ordeal that was the first half. He was like a dancer who stepped onto the stage with a clunky astronaut’s boot. The touches were maddeningly heavy, the movements laboured, as though he were bound by imaginary ropes. He was always on the wrong side at the wrong time. It horribly manifested when Ousmane Dembele slipped a delightful ball with the only goalkeeper in Mbappe’s eye-line. But he overran the ball, and instead of letting it roll naturally into his right instep, he tried to gather it with the outside of his right foot. The clunky touch facilitated a quick clearance. In another instance, he tried to link-up with Desire Doue running on his left. It barely moved five yards from him. So feeble was the connection. He almost gift-wrapped Senegal the lead just before he drinks break in the first half. Kylian Mbappe in action. (AP photo) The touch let him down again, and his marker El Hadji Malik Diouf snatched the ball and hoofed towards the French half, where Nicholas Jackson collected, twisted past a couple of defenders and blasted the ball to the base of the near post. The rebound nearly ricocheted off the French goalkeeper Mike Maignan to his own net. Mbappe, lurking near the half-like gazed despairingly at the skies. The New Jersey sun that was barbecuing half the arena was unkind to him. His despair grew louder as the half unfolded post the break. Had Ismail Sarr not side-footed into the upper tiers of the stands from eight yards, the goalmouth agape, France would have more to ponder in the break. Story continues below this ad In the 57th minute he broke into half a smile. He minted his first shot on goal, which Senegal’s goalkeeper Edouard Mendy expertly thwarted. Two minutes later came the burst speed that nearly resulted in a penalty. Mbappe was certain it was, and the referee, upon reviewing the pitch-side monitor, seemed to signal one, elevating Mbappe’s agony. But it turned out to be a goal kick. Then came the moments of his salvation.
Shoddy in the first half, divine in the second half: Mbappe turns his day around
