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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
And perhaps to prove that the strength of this England team wasn't limited to the eleven names printed on a team sheet.
Then the matchday arrived in Volgograd.
There was a different feeling around the England camp that morning.
The qualification was already secured.
The pressure of needing a result had disappeared.
But nobody was treating Tunisia as an exhibition.
Southgate had made that clear throughout the preparation.
The final group match still mattered.
The players who had been waiting for their opportunity finally had it.
And for the senior players sitting on the bench, there was another responsibility.
Support the team.
Stay ready.
Be prepared if they were needed.
Francesco understood that.
He had wanted to play, naturally.
Every footballer wanted to start a World Cup match.
But he also understood what Southgate was trying to accomplish.
England had three group matches.
They had already won the first two.
Now the manager had the chance to test the depth of his squad without jeopardising qualification.
That mattered.
The tournament was getting harder.
Eventually, they would need everyone.
The team bus left the hotel with the players spread across their seats.
Conversation was quieter than usual.
Nobody was nervous exactly.
But there was concentration.
Francesco sat beside the window, watching Volgograd pass outside.
The city was alive.
World Cup flags hung from buildings.
Supporters moved along the pavements.
Some wore England shirts.
Others wore Tunisia colours.
Police and security personnel stood near the stadium routes.
Everywhere there were reminders that, despite the rotation, this was still a World Cup match.
Francesco watched a group of supporters waving flags as the bus passed.
One child noticed the England crest on the vehicle and began jumping excitedly.
Francesco smiled.
He lifted one hand toward the window.
The child immediately waved back.
Kane, sitting a few rows ahead, turned around.
"You're enjoying that?"
Francesco smiled.
"Always."
The bus continued.
Soon the shape of Volgograd Arena appeared ahead.
The closer they got, the louder the atmosphere became.
The players could hear the crowd before they could properly see it.
By the time the bus entered the stadium area, the roads around the venue were already packed with supporters.
The players stepped down one by one.
No cameras were needed to remind them what this occasion meant.
They walked inside.
The dressing room was ready.
England shirts hung neatly above each locker.
Shorts.
Socks.
Boots.
Everything had been arranged.
Francesco found his place among the substitutes.
His shirt was waiting.
He touched the fabric briefly before sitting down.
Across the room, Rooney was already getting changed.
Vardy was tying his boots.
Rashford stood beside him, quietly talking.
Dier and Stones were discussing something about the defensive shape.
Cahill looked completely focused.
The starting players were preparing for the biggest opportunity of the day.
Francesco smiled toward them.
"Enjoy it."
Rooney glanced over.
"We will."
Southgate eventually appeared.
"Warm-up in five."
The players rose.
England made their way through the corridors and out onto the pitch.
The noise immediately swallowed them.
Volgograd Arena had filled considerably since their arrival.
Supporters waved flags from every section.
The England fans responded with chants.
The Tunisian supporters answered from the opposite side.
Francesco walked toward the technical area while the starters began their routine.
Stretching.
Light jogging.
Passing.
Movement drills.
Short accelerations.
Finishing.
The coaching staff moved among them, watching every detail.
Rooney looked sharp.
Vardy repeatedly attacked the space behind the defensive mannequins.
Rashford worked on his finishing.
Alli moved freely between the lines.
Trippier and Young practiced deliveries from wide areas.
The back three worked together.
Dier constantly communicated with Stones and Cahill.
Pickford was already barking instructions from his goal.
Francesco watched from near the bench.
He had played enough football to know that warm-ups could reveal little.
Some players looked brilliant and then struggled.
Others seemed quiet and almost casual before producing an excellent performance.
Still, he could see something in Rooney.
The veteran looked eager.
This was exactly the opportunity Southgate had promised him.
Eventually, the warm-up ended.
The players applauded the supporters before heading back inside.
The stadium noise followed them down the tunnel.
Back in the dressing room, the atmosphere became more focused.
Showers were quick.
Fresh clothes came off.
Match shirts went on.
Boots were tightened.
The substitutes took their seats along the side while the starting players gathered around Southgate.
Francesco stood nearby.
Southgate held the tactical sheet.
"Right."
The room quietened.
"This is the team."
He looked toward Pickford.
"Jordan."
Pickford nodded.
Then the back three.
"Eric."
Dier raised his head.
"John."
Stones nodded.
"Gary."
Cahill tightened the tape around his wrist.
Southgate continued.
"Ruben."
Loftus-Cheek looked up.
"You're playing ahead of them."
Then the width.
"Ashley."
Young nodded.
"Kieran."
Trippier gave a quick nod.
Then midfield.
"Wayne."
Rooney straightened.
"Dele."
Alli looked toward the manager.
Finally, the attack.
"Jamie."
Vardy smiled.
"And Marcus."
Rashford nodded.
Southgate stepped back.
"Three-one-four-two."
Francesco glanced at the tactical board.
Pickford behind Dier, Stones and Cahill.
Loftus-Cheek in front of them.
Young and Trippier providing the width.
Rooney and Alli through the middle.
Vardy and Rashford together up front.
It was a significant change.
Not merely personnel.
A different structure.
A different balance.
Southgate pointed toward the board.
"We're going to have to be patient with this."
He looked toward the midfielders.
"Wayne, Dele, don't get too close together."
They nodded.
"Ruben, protect the space in front of the back three."
Loftus-Cheek nodded.
"And the wing-backs."
Southgate looked at Young and Trippier.
"Pick your moments. Don't both go at the same time unless we have the cover."
Then the forwards.
"Jamie. Marcus."
Vardy and Rashford looked toward him.
"Stretch them."
Southgate tapped the board.
"If we can get behind their full-backs, we can make them turn."
He paused.
"But don't force it."
Then he turned toward the bench.
Francesco was sitting beside Kane.
Southgate gave them a brief look.
"You boys stay ready."
Francesco nodded.
Southgate then moved on to Tunisia.
"They're using a four-one-four-one."
He began naming them.
"Hassen in goal."
The players listened.
"Maaloul. Meriah. Ben Youssef. Bronn."
He pointed toward the midfield.
"Skhiri holding."
Then across the line.
"Sliti. Badri. Sassi. Ben Youssef."
Finally:
"Khazri up front."
Southgate paused.
"They've got nothing to lose."
His eyes moved around the room.
"That can make them dangerous."
Nobody interrupted.
"They're going to come at us."
He looked toward Pickford.
"Be vocal."
Pickford nodded.
"Back three, manage the space."
Then everyone.
"We've earned qualification. That's important."
A brief pause.
"But we're still England."
The words settled over the room.
"Let's play properly."
The starters stood.
Francesco watched them leave.
Rooney walked past him.
"See you later."
"Go on."
Rooney smiled.
"Enjoy the bench."
Francesco laughed.
"That's the plan."
The players disappeared into the corridor.
The substitutes followed more slowly toward the technical area.
Francesco took his place alongside Kane.
The tunnel was already crowded.
Tunisia stood opposite England.
The atmosphere had intensified.
Supporters could be heard through the concrete walls.
The young mascots waited beside the players.
One by one, the England starters took their hands.
Rooney looked down at the child beside him and smiled.
"You ready?"
The boy nodded enthusiastically.
Rooney laughed.
"Good."
The tunnel began moving.
The players walked forward.
The noise grew with every step.
Then they emerged.
Volgograd Arena erupted.
England and Tunisia moved into their lines.
The players stood shoulder-to-shoulder.
The official ceremony began.
England's anthem played first.
The substitutes stood near the technical area, singing alongside the starting players.
Francesco looked around the stadium.
It was another one of those moments that never became ordinary.
The flags.
The noise.
The cameras.
The knowledge that millions of people were watching.
Then Tunisia's anthem followed.
Afterward came the handshakes.
Opponents greeted one another.
Officials moved along the line.
The starting XI photographs were taken.
Then Rooney walked toward the referee.
Tunisia captain Wahbi Khazri stood beside him.
The referee held the coin.
"Call it."
Khazri answered immediately.
"Right."
The coin went into the air.
It came down.
Tunisia had won.
"Kick off," Khazri said.
Rooney nodded.
"Good luck."
"You too."
The captains shook hands.
Rooney returned to his teammates.
The referee checked his watch.
For a moment, the stadium became strangely quiet.
Then the whistle sounded.
Tunisia kicked off.
England immediately settled into their shape.
There was no frantic press.
No desperate sprint forward.
The ball moved between Dier, Stones and Cahill.
Loftus-Cheek positioned himself ahead of them.
Young and Trippier stayed wide.
Rooney and Alli looked for passing lanes.
Vardy and Rashford remained high.
It was controlled.
Almost deliberately cautious.
They didn't need to chase the match.
Tunisia did.
The Tunisians immediately pushed forward.
Their midfield stepped higher.
Khazri dropped toward the ball.
Sliti moved into space on the right.
Badri looked for gaps between Young and the outside centre-back.
Southgate stood near the touchline.
"Stay compact!"
England shifted.
Pickford was already communicating.
"Eric!"
Dier moved across.
"John, inside!"
Stones adjusted.
Tunisia kept coming.
They understood their situation.
They needed something from the match.
England didn't.
That difference was obvious.
Tunisia played with urgency.
England played with patience.
But patience could become dangerous if it turned into passivity.
Francesco watched from the bench.
He noticed Southgate watching the same thing.
The manager wasn't unhappy.
But he wasn't entirely comfortable either.
Tunisia attacked again.
A ball was played toward Khazri.
Cahill followed.
Khazri turned.
Cahill tried to challenge.
Khazri moved away.
The ball went wide.
Trippier cleared.
"Good," Rooney called.
England finally managed to move forward.
Rooney received between the lines.
He turned.
Alli ran beyond him.
Rooney slipped the ball forward.
Alli reached it but Tunisia recovered.
Vardy immediately pressed.
The crowd responded to every attack.
The match had developed an unusual rhythm.
Tunisia wanted to accelerate.
England wanted to slow it.
Then, in the twenty-first minute, everything changed.
Tunisia attacked through the middle.
Sassi received the ball and moved it toward Khazri.
Khazri entered the penalty area.
Cahill moved across.
He tried to intervene.
His timing was wrong.
His foot caught Khazri.
The Tunisian striker went down.
The referee immediately pointed toward the spot.
Penalty.
The Tunisian players reacted first.
They surrounded Khazri.
England players protested briefly.
Cahill looked frustrated.
"Damn."
Stones approached him.
"Forget it."
Cahill nodded.
The referee stood firm.
No hesitation.
Penalty.
The Tunisian supporters erupted.
Francesco stood near the bench.
Kane leaned forward.
Southgate remained calm.
"Reset."
Pickford walked toward his goal.
Sassi stepped forward.
He placed the ball carefully on the spot.
Then he walked backward.
Pickford stood on the goal line.
He moved slightly from side to side.
Sassi waited.
The stadium became almost silent.
The whistle.
Sassi ran forward.
Struck it firmly.
Pickford dived.
But the ball went beyond him.
Into the corner.
Goal.
Tunisia led 1–0.
Their supporters exploded.
Sassi was immediately surrounded by teammates.
England regrouped.
Rooney gathered the players.
"Come on."
Cahill looked toward him.
"Sorry."
Rooney shook his head.
"Forget it. We've got time."
Southgate clapped from the technical area.
"Come on!"
Francesco watched closely.
There was no panic.
That mattered.
England had fallen behind.
But there were still nearly seventy minutes remaining.
The match restarted.
And gradually, England began to change.
Rooney started finding more space.
He dropped deeper.
Then moved forward.
Alli pushed higher.
Trippier began advancing.
Young followed.
Vardy stayed on the shoulder of the Tunisian defenders.
Rashford stretched the opposite side.
The shape became more aggressive.
Francesco could hear Southgate.
"That's better!"
Rooney received again.
He turned.
This time, the pass went toward Trippier.
Trippier crossed.
The ball was cleared.
Alli collected.
England kept possession.
The pressure grew.
Tunisia were now being forced backward.
Vardy repeatedly made runs.
One almost worked.
Rooney spotted him.
The pass came slightly too early.
Vardy stopped.
Francesco shook his head sympathetically from the bench.
"Nearly."
Kane nodded.
"They'll get another."
They did.
Thirty-eight minutes.
Rooney received possession in midfield.
He looked up.
Vardy had begun moving.
Not yet.
Rooney waited.
A defender stepped forward.
Another looked toward Rashford.
That was enough.
Vardy accelerated.
Rooney threaded the pass between them.
Perfect.
Vardy was through.
He entered the penalty area.
Hassen rushed forward.
Vardy remained calm.
One touch.
Then he finished.
The ball flew beyond the goalkeeper.
Into the net.
1–1.
Vardy immediately turned.
Both arms raised.
He pointed straight toward Rooney.
The captain was already running toward him.
"Come on!"
Rooney embraced him.
The rest of the players arrived.
Rashford jumped onto Vardy's back.
Alli grabbed Rooney.
The substitutes erupted on the bench.
Francesco stood and applauded.
"Come on!"
Vardy was laughing.
Rooney smiled.
"Good run."
"Good pass."
"You made it easy."
Vardy shook his head.
"That's what you said you were going to do."
Rooney laughed.
"Fair enough."
Southgate applauded from the touchline.
But his expression remained focused.
He knew the equaliser had changed the match.
It had also confirmed something important.
The rotated side could respond.
Tunisia restarted.
The remaining minutes became tense.
Neither side wanted to give away another goal.
Tunisia still attacked.
Khazri tried to find space.
Sassi moved forward.
Sliti attempted to cross.
England defended.
Dier cleared one dangerous ball.
Stones intercepted another.
Cahill recovered from his earlier mistake and made a strong challenge near the edge of the area.
Rooney applauded him.
"Good, Gary!"
Cahill nodded.
The England supporters began singing.
England responded by controlling possession.
Rooney dictated the tempo.
Alli moved between midfield and attack.
Loftus-Cheek held his position.
The wing-backs became slightly more cautious.
The match settled.
One-nil had become one-one.
But neither team could find the second.
The fourth official's clock continued moving.
Forty.
Forty-one.
Forty-two.
Francesco watched from the bench.
Kane leaned toward him.
"They'll get another chance."
"Hopefully us."
Kane smiled.
"Definitely us."
The final minutes of the half passed without another goal.
Tunisia had one final attack.
Khazri received near the left.
He crossed.
Dier rose.
Header away.
The ball dropped toward midfield.
Rooney collected.
He didn't rush.
He passed sideways.
The referee checked his watch.
Then the whistle sounded.
Halftime.
1–1.
The England players walked toward the tunnel.
The substitutes followed.
Francesco rose from the bench and joined the group inside.
Nobody looked defeated.
But there was a sense that the first half had not met Southgate's expectations.
The players entered the dressing room.
Boots scraped against the floor.
Water bottles were opened.
Everyone took their places.
Southgate waited.
He allowed the room to settle.
Then he looked around.
"Right."
Silence.
"We're level."
Nobody answered.
"The qualification is secure."
He paused.
"But that doesn't mean this match doesn't matter."
His eyes moved toward the starting players.
"You've got the opportunity to finish this group stage properly."
He pointed toward the tactical board.
"We need more purpose."
Rooney nodded.
"Agreed."
Southgate continued.
"Move the ball quicker."
Then toward Alli.
"Get higher."
Alli nodded.
"To the wing-backs—when the opportunity is there, go."
Young and Trippier listened.
"And when we lose it, we react."
He looked toward Loftus-Cheek.
"Don't let their midfield turn."
Then the forwards.
"Jamie. Marcus."
Vardy looked up.
"Keep stretching them."
Rashford nodded.
"They're starting to drop."
"Exactly."
Southgate stepped back.
"We've shown patience."
He paused.
"Now we need aggression."
The room remained silent.
Then his voice softened.
"And enjoy it."
A few players looked up.
"This is a World Cup match."
He looked around.
"You've earned the right to be here."
Francesco listened from the side.
Southgate's final words were simple.
"Let's go and win the second half."
The players rose.
Rooney pulled his shirt straight.
Vardy tightened his boots.
Rashford took a deep breath.
The door opened.
The noise from Volgograd Arena came rushing into the corridor.
Francesco followed the group toward the tunnel.
England had already secured their place in the knockout stages.
But Southgate was right.
The match still mattered.
And with forty-five minutes remaining, the rotated England side had one more chance to show exactly how much depth this squad possessed.
Then the second half began with England looking like a different side.
Not because Tunisia had suddenly become weaker.
Not because the pressure had disappeared.
But because Southgate's message had reached them.
The moment the referee restarted the match, England moved the ball with greater purpose.
Rooney dropped toward the centre-backs to receive.
Alli immediately pushed higher.
Loftus-Cheek positioned himself between Tunisia's midfield and attack, ready to recycle possession whenever England lost the forward pass.
The wing-backs moved.
Trippier advanced down the right.
Young did the same on the opposite side.
And suddenly Tunisia were being asked a different question.
Could they defend for long periods?
The answer, at least initially, seemed uncertain.
"Keep it moving!" Rooney shouted.
He received from Dier and switched play toward Trippier.
The right-back took a touch and drove forward.
A Tunisian midfielder came across.
Trippier passed inside.
Alli returned it first time.
Trippier continued his run.
The ball came back toward him, but Maaloul managed to step across and intercept.
The Tunisian supporters cheered.
England simply recovered.
Rooney was already pointing.
"Again."
There was no frustration.
Just persistence.
Francesco watched from the bench with Kane and the other substitutes.
He could feel the tempo rising.
Kane leaned forward.
"They're getting closer."
Francesco nodded.
"Yeah."
The next attack almost produced the second goal.
Young received on the left and sent a low ball toward the near post.
Rashford darted in front of his marker.
He got there first.
His shot struck the side netting.
Rashford immediately put both hands on his head.
"Ah!"
Young clapped.
"Good run!"
Rashford nodded and jogged back.
Another opportunity came moments later.
Rooney found Alli between two midfielders.
Alli turned beautifully and carried the ball toward the penalty area.
Vardy was already running behind the defence.
Alli slipped the pass through.
Vardy reached it.
Hassen came rushing out.
Vardy tried to lift the ball over him.
The goalkeeper got a hand to it.
The chance disappeared.
Vardy looked toward the sky.
Rooney jogged over.
"Keep going."
Vardy nodded.
"They'll give us another."
They did.
England were beginning to dominate possession.
Tunisia were being pushed deeper and deeper.
Their earlier confidence had disappeared beneath wave after wave of English attacks.
Khazri was forced farther back to help his midfield.
Sassi struggled to find space.
Sliti rarely had the opportunity to run at Young.
England's three-man defence remained behind the attack, allowing Loftus-Cheek to step forward and support Rooney.
The pattern repeated.
England attacked.
Tunisia defended.
England recovered the ball.
England attacked again.
The clock reached sixty minutes.
The score remained 1–1.
Southgate stood near the technical area with his arms folded.
He wasn't shouting constantly anymore.
He was watching.
Waiting.
Then Rooney received the ball.
He was around twenty-five yards from goal.
Alli moved to his right.
Trippier began overlapping.
Rashford drifted toward the left.
Vardy stayed between the centre-backs.
Rooney looked up.
For half a second, it seemed as though he might pass wide.
Instead, he moved forward.
One touch.
Two.
Alli dragged a defender away.
Vardy made a short movement toward the near post.
That created the opening.
Rooney stepped into the penalty area.
A Tunisian defender hesitated.
It was enough.
Rooney struck the ball low.
Hard.
Precise.
Hassen reacted late.
The shot flew beyond him and into the corner.
Goal.
England 2–1 Tunisia.
For a moment, Rooney simply stood there.
Then his expression changed.
A huge smile appeared.
He turned toward the corner.
"Come on!"
His teammates chased him.
Alli reached him first.
Vardy followed.
Rashford wrapped an arm around him.
The substitutes jumped up from the bench.
Francesco was on his feet immediately, applauding and shouting.
"Wayne!"
Rooney turned toward the bench, punching the air.
Southgate celebrated briefly.
Then immediately pointed toward the pitch.
"Focus!"
He wanted them to enjoy it for a second.
But only a second.
The match wasn't finished.
Rooney jogged back toward the centre circle.
As he passed Francesco, the two exchanged a quick slap of hands.
"Second one," Francesco said.
Rooney grinned.
"About time."
The scoreboard showed:
ENGLAND 2–1 TUNISIA
It was Rooney's second goal of the tournament.
And suddenly, the rotated England side had the lead.
Tunisia had to change.
They couldn't sit back anymore.
The match became more open.
That suited England.
It also suited the substitutes who were warming up along the touchline.
Kane had already removed his training bib.
Lingard was jogging from one side to the other.
Francesco kept stretching.
Southgate looked toward them.
Then he turned back toward the pitch.
A few minutes passed.
The fourth official appeared with the board.
Triple substitution.
Southgate made his decision.
Jamie Vardy.
Dele Alli.
Ashley Young.
Off.
Harry Kane.
Jesse Lingard.
Francesco.
On.
Francesco looked at the board.
For a brief moment, he simply stared at his own name.
Then he stood.
Kane smiled beside him.
"Here we go."
Francesco nodded.
"Finally."
Lingard laughed.
"Let's make it count."
They waited at the touchline.
Vardy walked off first.
Southgate shook his hand.
"Good work."
Vardy nodded.
Then he saw Francesco.
"Go get one."
Francesco smiled.
"I'll try."
Vardy slapped his shoulder.
"Do it."
Alli came off next.
Young followed.
The crowd reacted as Francesco stepped toward the pitch.
The England supporters recognised him immediately.
His name rolled around the stadium.
Francesco heard it.
He couldn't help smiling.
He had wanted this.
Not because England needed him to rescue the match.
They were already ahead.
But because every World Cup appearance mattered.
Every minute.
Every touch.
Every opportunity.
He crossed the line.
Kane was already moving into position.
Rooney looked over.
"You good?"
"Yeah."
"Then let's finish it."
The match restarted.
Tunisia made changes of their own.
Sliti came off.
Khazri followed.
Mohamed Ben Amor entered.
Saber Khalifa joined him.
They were clearly trying to change the rhythm.
Francesco immediately began moving.
He started on the left but rarely stayed there.
Sometimes he drifted inside.
Sometimes he dropped toward Rooney.
Sometimes he moved beyond Kane.
The Tunisia defence struggled to decide who should follow him.
That was exactly what he wanted.
He received his first pass from Lingard.
One touch.
Back to Rooney.
Then he moved again.
Rooney noticed.
"Keep going!"
Francesco accelerated into the left channel.
The ball didn't come.
He turned and jogged back.
A few seconds later, another opening appeared.
Trippier had possession on the right.
He looked toward the penalty area.
Francesco was moving.
Not toward the near post.
Away from it.
He drifted centrally, pulling Ben Youssef with him.
Then, suddenly, he changed direction.
Left.
Trippier saw it.
Their eyes met for the briefest moment.
The right-back took another touch.
Then he delivered.
A precise ball.
Perfectly weighted.
Francesco accelerated into the space.
He didn't have to break stride.
One touch.
Then the finish.
He struck through the ball.
Hassen had no chance.
The net moved.
3–1.
Francesco stopped.
For half a second, he simply looked at the goal.
Then the noise hit him.
The England bench exploded.
Kane sprinted toward him.
Lingard was already laughing.
Rooney raised both arms.
Trippier came running from the right.
Francesco turned toward him.
"That was perfect!"
Trippier grinned.
"Told you."
Francesco barely had time to answer before Kane reached him.
The striker wrapped both arms around him.
"You waited long enough!"
Francesco laughed.
"I only got on ten minutes ago!"
"Exactly!"
Lingard jumped into the celebration.
Rooney arrived last, smiling.
"Good finish."
Francesco nodded.
"Good pass."
Rooney pointed toward Trippier.
"Give him the credit."
Francesco turned again.
Trippier was still smiling.
The substitutes were celebrating near the technical area.
Southgate clapped firmly.
But once again, his first instruction was clear.
"Back in!"
England 3–1.
There were still minutes to play.
Tunisia tried to respond.
Ben Amor attempted to drive forward.
Khalifa made runs behind the defence.
Sassi pushed higher.
But England were calmer now.
The goal had changed the match completely.
Rooney began controlling the tempo again.
Francesco dropped deeper when necessary.
Kane offered an outlet.
Lingard moved between the lines.
Behind them, Dier, Stones and Cahill remained organised.
Pickford had little to do.
That was exactly how Southgate wanted it.
No unnecessary risks.
No frantic defending.
Just control.
The clock moved toward eighty-five minutes.
Tunisia were running out of answers.
Then Lingard found another opening.
He received the ball just inside the attacking half.
A Tunisian midfielder stepped toward him.
Lingard moved the ball to his right.
Then accelerated.
Kane began running across the defensive line.
Francesco pulled another defender toward the left.
That created space.
Lingard saw it.
He lifted his head.
Kane was there.
The pass came perfectly.
Weighted into his path.
Kane didn't hesitate.
One touch.
Finish.
Goal.
4–1.
The England players celebrated again.
Lingard pointed toward Kane.
Kane pointed back.
"That's yours!"
Lingard laughed.
"About time!"
Francesco joined them.
Rooney followed.
Trippier raised both arms.
Southgate allowed himself a proper smile this time.
The scoreboard changed.
ENGLAND 4–1 TUNISIA
And suddenly the final minutes felt comfortable.
England didn't chase a fifth.
They didn't need one.
They simply kept the ball.
Pass.
Move.
Support.
Recycle.
The substitutes communicated constantly.
Francesco dropped toward the left when Tunisia had possession.
When England recovered it, he immediately pushed forward again.
Rooney continued directing things from midfield.
"Slow."
"Keep it."
"Good."
Dier and Stones stayed compact.
Cahill, who had experienced the penalty earlier in the match, had recovered completely and was now calmly organising the defensive line.
Pickford collected a cross and held it.
The crowd applauded.
He waited.
Then rolled the ball toward Stones.
No hurry.
England had learned the value of controlling a match.
The final minutes disappeared.
Eighty-seven.
Eighty-eight.
Eighty-nine.
Tunisia managed one last attack.
Khalifa received near the edge of the penalty area.
Cahill stepped across.
Stones covered behind him.
Khalifa tried to turn.
Cahill won the ball cleanly.
"Good!"
Rooney immediately offered himself.
Cahill passed.
Rooney took one touch and moved it toward Francesco.
Francesco carried it forward.
He could have attacked.
Instead, he looked at the clock.
Then passed sideways.
Smart.
The England supporters applauded the decision.
Southgate nodded.
That was exactly what he wanted.
Professionalism.
The referee glanced at his watch.
One final Tunisia attack came to nothing.
Pickford gathered the ball.
He held it.
Then the whistle sounded.
Full time.
ENGLAND 4–1 TUNISIA.
For a moment, the players simply stood there.
Then the smiles came.
Rooney raised his arms.
Kane walked toward him.
"Three from three."
Rooney nodded.
"Not bad."
Francesco laughed.
"Not bad?"
Rooney looked at him.
"You've been hanging around Kane too much."
Kane protested.
"Leave me out of this."
Everyone laughed.
The players gathered near the centre circle.
They applauded the England supporters.
The travelling fans responded with a roar.
Flags waved.
Scarves were raised.
Francesco stood beside Rooney, Kane, Lingard and Trippier.
Another World Cup victory.
Another goal.
Another clean sheet? No.
But it didn't matter.
They had won.
And more importantly, they had done it with a heavily rotated side.
The players who had been waiting had stepped forward.
Rooney had scored.
Vardy had scored.
Francesco had scored.
Kane had scored.
Lingard had contributed.
Trippier had provided an assist.
The squad depth Southgate had wanted to test had answered him.
Francesco looked toward the scoreboard.
ENGLAND 4–1 TUNISIA
Three matches.
Three victories.
Nine points.
England had finished the group stage unbeaten.
The players slowly began walking toward the tunnel.
Francesco remained near Rooney.
"You happy?"
Rooney smiled.
"Very."
"Two goals."
"Even better."
Kane walked behind them.
"Don't get carried away."
Rooney turned.
"I'm allowed one night."
"Fine."
"Thank you."
Francesco laughed.
Then the mood shifted when a staff member approached the group.
"Japan."
The players looked over.
"What?"
"Our Round of 16 opponent."
The word seemed to settle over them.
Japan.
The group stage was over.
Everything changed now.
No more calculations about qualification.
No more opportunities to recover from a bad result.
No more second chances.
The knockout stage was different.
One match.
One mistake.
One moment.
And you could be going home.
Francesco looked toward the stadium.
The celebration around them continued, but his thoughts had already moved forward.
Belgium.
Panama.
Tunisia.
Nine points.
Now Japan.
He looked at Kane.
Kane was already thinking about it too.
Rooney's smile had disappeared into a more thoughtful expression.
Henderson walked past them.
"Round of sixteen."
Francesco nodded.
"Yeah."
Henderson exhaled.
"Now it gets serious."
Nobody disagreed.
They had enjoyed the night.
They had earned the right to celebrate.
But as the England players disappeared into the stadium corridors, the atmosphere slowly changed again.
The World Cup had entered its most unforgiving stage.
England had survived the group.
They had won all three matches.
They had demonstrated that their strength extended beyond the eleven players who had started against Belgium and Panama.
And Francesco had added another World Cup goal to his name.
But none of that guaranteed anything.
Japan would arrive with their own plans.
Their own belief.
Their own players dreaming of the same trophy.
Francesco looked back once before entering the dressing room.
The stands were still alive.
England supporters were still singing.
The scoreboard remained visible in the distance.
4–1.
He smiled.
Then he turned away.
The group stage was finished.
The knockout stage had begun.
And from this point forward, there would be no tomorrow guaranteed.
__________________________________________________
Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 19 (2017)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, FA Cup 2016/2017, 2016/2017 Champions League, 2017/2018 Carabao Cup, Premier League 2017/2018, FA Cup 2017/2018, and Champions League 2017/2018.
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 59
Goal: 76
Assist: 6
MOTM: 7
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 7
Goal: 7
Assist: 1
MOTM: 3
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9