After Lecce pulled one goal back, everything became a lot harder for them. Milan didn't want to play anymore. Not really. They just wanted to survive. They weren't interested in possession, or passing, or building anything from the back. All they wanted to do was stall, waste time, and hold onto their slim lead. It was shameless. And it was effective.
The ball would go out of play, and they'd take an extra thirty seconds to throw it in. Players stayed down longer after tackles. Maignan started taking goal kicks like he had arthritis in both knees. It wasn't beautiful, but it was what desperate teams did when they had something to lose.
Lecce, meanwhile, were chasing ghosts. They had the ball. They moved it. But Milan had dropped into a deep block, and that meant there was barely any room to breathe. The passing triangles were tight, the openings microscopic. Every time they probed forward, they'd get pushed back. It was like playing chess with a wall.
