Julien looked up at Deschamps.
Deschamps's expression turned serious. "Originally I had you down for the right wing, but now I want you to drop back a little once the match starts. I need you somewhere between midfield and the front line—the link connecting midfield to the attack, so those two can play right up top."
As he spoke, Deschamps pointed at Giroud and Griezmann.
Julien looked up and nodded gently, signalling that he understood.
In fact, with his ability he could play anywhere across the front line—it was only ever a question of which position best suited the tactics.
Deschamps ran through it quickly. "That's right. This is an adjustment we've made specifically for Nigeria, and the whole point is to maximize our attacking efficiency.
You know as well as I do that Nigeria's back line is solid. Ambrose and Oshaniwa, their two full-backs, defend fiercely and are excellent at positioning and interception. If you stay pinned to the right wing the whole match, they'll double up on you easily, and our right-side attack will grind to a halt—it would be a waste of your attacking gifts.
Of course, I believe you could handle that kind of situation. But there's no need to force it and take on the risk."
He went on. "Nigeria will almost certainly play for a defensive counter. Mikel and Onazi in midfield are excellent at breaking up play, so we need someone linking midfield to the front line to disrupt their defensive shape.
Once you drop back, on one hand you avoid getting boxed in by their full-backs and gain more space to receive the ball and organize play. You can use your passing vision to supply Antoine up front, and Olivier too.
Olivier's a strong target man—he can occupy their centre-backs.
Antoine's mobile, good at cutting through the lines.
You, sitting deeper, waiting for the moment to cross or slip a through ball—that's what maximizes our attacking efficiency.
And more importantly, once you drop back, you completely open up our entire front line's attacking cohesion and break down Nigeria's defensive system."
Deschamps's gaze stayed fixed on Julien.
Julien listened, then slowly nodded. "Understood."
Actually, thinking it over carefully, wasn't this exactly the role Deschamps would later give Griezmann?
Well then. So, this was where the idea had first taken shape—Deschamps already needed a player like this to complete his tactical vision.
Deschamps didn't have time to say more.
He turned to the other players and gave them one more round of instructions.
Then, kickoff was drawing near. Everyone rose together in the middle of the locker room and shouted as one, "Allez, France!!"
Right after, the players walked out of the locker room.
At that moment, the midday sun blazed over Brasília, scorching the turf of the national stadium, the heavy air seemed to hang motionless.
The temperature inside the stadium refused to drop.
Julien could already feel his kit sticking to him with the heat—the match hadn't even started, and he was already drenched in sweat.
The atmosphere in the stadium had already been pushed to fever pitch.
Up in the stands, the fans were just as drenched, but no one seemed to care—every eye was fixed on the pitch, waiting for the match to officially begin.
The pre-match ceremonies went ahead in order.
Lining up, the national anthems, the coin toss...
The players went back to their respective halves. Julien walked to France's midfield and spoke softly to Pogba and Cabaye. "They're kicking off—mind your defensive shape."
"Right!"
Both of them nodded.
Nigeria's players gathered together, pumping each other up. Goalkeeper Enyeama adjusted his gloves, eyes sweeping warily across France's front line.
They'd already prepared themselves for whatever France threw at them.
Soon, the referee glanced at his watch. As the clock struck one—
Peep!
He blew the whistle to start the match!
The match was officially underway!
Nigeria looked cautious. They knew exactly how dangerous France's attack could be.
The group-stage numbers didn't lie.
After kick off, Nigeria simply passed the ball back rather than pushing straight for an early chance.
France didn't press immediately either.
In a knockout match, both sides were being careful.
The tempo was noticeably slower.
Add to that the scorching heat—the stifling conditions forced the players to conserve their energy.
Both sides kept probing each other.
In the first ten minutes, France didn't raise a single threatening attack, and barely even entered Nigeria's penalty area. The match felt fairly flat.
Julien stuck strictly to Deschamps's tactics, carrying out the drop-back as instructed.
Instead of pushing up top as a spearhead the way Nigeria had expected, he dropped back into the zone between midfield and the front line.
That single adjustment left Nigeria's original defensive plan grasping at nothing.
Before the match, Nigeria's head coach Keshi had specifically assigned full-back Ambrose to man-mark Julien closely, targeting his dribbling and finishing, even preparing a double-team, shifting the defensive weight toward the right side to try to choke off Julien's breakthroughs and shots.
But Julien's drop-back took him out of Nigeria's key defensive zone.
Ambrose's close marking lost its purpose. He was forced to reposition, and Nigeria's back line fell into brief disarray as a result.
Julien's shift in position forced them to scramble and readjust.
What's more, what worried them even more was that they had no idea how Julien intended to play and it's the unknown that's truly frightening.
The heat inside Mané Garrincha Stadium hadn't let up in the slightest.
But as time went on, after the two sides continued probing and contact, the balance on the pitch had quietly begun to shift.
Once the flat opening passed, France gradually began to show a level far beyond Nigeria's.
Whether in individual quality, tactical cohesion, or the quality of their possession, France clearly held the upper hand.
The match, which had felt somewhat dull at first, was slowly being swallowed up by France's attacking rhythm.
Nigeria, step by step, were forced onto the back foot, pinned deep in their own half.
France's players, with their footwork and seamless coordination, began steadily working the ball forward, one wave after another.
Julien moved fluidly between midfield and the front line—dropping back at times to receive the ball and organize, then quietly slipping forward at others to probe.
That made it almost impossible for Nigeria to build any clear defence against him.
Nigeria, on the other hand, under France's sustained pressure, had no choice but to compress their lines, pull everyone back into their own half, and rely on packed defence—pinning their hopes on the counter.
But Nigeria's counters simply couldn't get going against France's defence.
The match had begun to look completely one-sided.
As the game wore on, France's possession kept climbing, their pass count kept rising, and again and again they squeezed Nigeria's defence back toward their own box.
Nigeria's back line gradually began to show signs of panic.
Full-backs Ambrose and Oshaniwa were forced into constant covering runs, while midfielders Mikel and Onazi's tackling started to look increasingly stretched.
The once-tight defensive shape began to open up gaps under France's relentless pressure.
Julien kept his focus locked in throughout.
Watching the play unfold on one side, hunting for the perfect moment to burst forward on the other.
The match reached the 22nd minute.
The chance finally came!
Julien seized the instant Nigeria's back line sat a little too loose, exploding forward, shaking off Mikel's attention, and cutting instantly into the edge of the box.
His sudden burst completely shattered Nigeria's defensive rhythm.
Center-backs Yobo and Omeruo, who had been focused on tracking Giroud and Griezmann, were forced to scramble their positioning and try to cut Julien off.
A gap tore open in Nigeria's defensive shape!
Julien spotted the opening but instead of forcing a shot, he ran straight at the defender closing him down and sold him a shooting fake, disguising a pass as a strike!
A flick of the foot, and he floated a perfectly weighted lob.
The ball sailed over the defender's head and found Giroud, who had made space inside the box!
Giroud read it instantly, his run pulled him clear of his marker.
He soared into the air, met Julien's lofted pass, and threw his head at it with everything he had—the ball flew with real force, straight for goal!
Enyeama threw himself at it, desperate.
He got a touch but he was a fraction too slow, couldn't quite keep it out, and the ball crashed into the net anyway!
Goal!
1–0!
France broke the deadlock and grabbed the lead!
The instant the ball hit the net; Mané Garrincha Stadium erupted!
Giroud broke free of his marker in a burst of excitement, spun around, and sprinted straight for Julien.
He barrelled into him, wrapped him in a tight embrace, foreheads pressed together, the two of them were letting the pure joy of the goal pour out!
Right after, Pogba, Griezmann, and the rest of their teammates came rushing over, gathering around Julien and Giroud.
"Beautiful, Olivier!"
Giroud laughed, delighted. "It was Julien's pass that did it—I just finished it off."
Julien patted him on the head, grinning. "A goal's a goal—that's what matters!"
Everyone burst out laughing.
And it was true—football speaks through goals. No matter how beautiful the play looks, without a goal it all adds up to nothing.
Deschamps was on the touchline too, pumping his fist hard, and kept turning to pump his fist at the French fans up in the stands.
That set off an even louder roar from the crowd!
Passion running hot!
And it truly was—hot like standing over a fire, sweat pouring off everyone!
But the heat inside Mané Garrincha Stadium couldn't smother the passion for the game—some fans, men and women both, had stripped off their shirts entirely, swinging them over their heads and shouted.
And it certainly couldn't smother Alphonse's excitement!
Over the broadcast, Alphonse shouted, "GOAL! Oliver Giroud's header finds the net!
1–0! France break the deadlock!
My god, what a moment! THIS is Les Bleus!
That header from Oliver was magnificent and just as magnificent, Julien's performance has been nothing short of perfect. Time and again on this pitch he's proving exactly why he is the heart of this French team.
Why he wears the armband!
Without Julien pulling defenders out of position, without that perfect lofted pass, there is no goal!
He's just so complete a player—he can drop deep and orchestrate, he can burst forward and set up his teammates, and his threat is simply unmatched. Nigeria's defence stood absolutely no chance against him!"
Watching the players on the pitch embrace in celebration,
Alphonse's voice swelled with pride: "Look at these young men! Look at Julien! Look at Oliver! The chemistry between them is extraordinary! This is Les Bleus—a team that's united, powerful, and bursting with talent!
Julien is the heart of this side—he's the one who's pulled all this talent together, and every single player is playing to the fullest of his ability!
I'll say it directly—no single defender can handle Julien alone. He is far too dangerous. He isn't simply a forward—he's a complete, all-around heart of the team, France's sharpest weapon!
Nigeria have been left completely stunned. They have no answer for Julien at all..."
Alphonse could barely contain his excitement.
And it was the same everywhere—French fans across the entire world felt exactly the same, watching this French side with hearts full of hope.
Perhaps, this time, things really would be different?
Soon, play resumed on the pitch.
The roar from Giroud's headed goal hadn't yet faded from Mané Garrincha Stadium.
French fans were still celebrating.
But Nigeria didn't panic because of it. Keshi seemed to have been prepared for going behind all along, and rather than sending his players forward at once, he immediately pulled his lines back, abandoning any thought of attacking directly.
Everyone dropped into their own half, settling into a purely defensive stance.
Clearly unwilling to give France any further room to extend the lead, hoping instead to find a way back through a defensive counter.
Of course, Keshi did still make a few adjustments—pulling back winger Moses, who had originally leaned toward attack, to join Mikel and Onazi and form a three-man shield in midfield, drawing the back four tight together to build a compact block in front of the box, leaving France no easy gaps to slip through.
Nigeria's whole tactical approach was now crystal clear: hold the line, and wait for a chance.
The match settled into a stalemate as a result.
Nigeria defended with every man behind the ball, while France controlled possession and kept the attacks coming, hunting for a way through.
But even a side dug in fully wasn't unbreakable, and Nigeria's defence proved no exception.
The player giving Nigeria the biggest headache, without question, was Julien.
His movement was simply too fluid!
After the goal, Julien roamed even more freely through the front third, and especially in tandem with Griezmann, he completely tore apart the defensive setup Nigeria had planned before the match.
Whoever was tasked with marking Julien would barely catch up to his footwork before he'd already shifted position.
Sometimes it was a quick one-two through the middle with Pogba; other times he'd drift wide to drag a defender out of position, opening up space for Giroud or Griezmann.
The defenders were run ragged, never able to establish any reliable marking on him.
That left Nigeria's defence riddled with gaps, again and again.
In the 25th minute, Julien took a through ball from Pogba, cut into the box, and fired at a tight angle, but Nigeria's keeper Enyeama got a strong hand to it and pushed it away;
in the 29th minute, Julien beat two defenders in succession near the edge of the box and whipped in a cross—Giroud's header went just wide, and the chance to extend the lead slipped away.
France kept producing dangerous attacks, and their shot count kept climbing.
But Nigeria's crammed defence held firm, and with Enyeama in inspired form between the posts, France couldn't find a way through again.
The score stayed frozen at 1–0.
Time crept by. From the 22nd minute, when Giroud's goal went in, all the way to the 33rd minute, France still held on to their one-goal lead.
At that point, Alphonse sounded full of confidence. "Even though the score's still just 1–0, everyone can see it—we are completely in control of this match!
I'll say it—the way things stand right now, it's only a matter of time before France score again!
Nigeria are already giving everything just to defend, and they still can't find any answer for Julien—all they can do is sit back and take the punishment!
With Julien on the pitch, France's attack will always carry a threat.
Nigeria's dogged defence, in the end, is nothing but a lost cause..."
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