"BARCA HAS DONE IT!" The commentators roared.
"The Catalans have done it in Madrid!"
"That's the equalizer!"
"What a goal!"
"So many people involved, so many brilliant plays involved!"
"Balde's run, just beautiful! Sam's physicality against Alaba? Brilliant! And that pass? My God, that was straight out of Mesut Ozil's book!"
"And then that finishing touch?!"
"My oh my! Gavi, come on, this is the Bernabeu short man!"
While the commentators raved, waxing lyrical about the equalizer that suddenly silenced the Santiago Bernabeu, Gavi was already charging away towards the corner flag even as the away stands erupted in ecstasy.
Gavi didn't just run, as he ran, he pumped his fists excitedly, his pupils dilated in the tense energy of this game.
As he pumped his fists, he bent his body, sliding in celebration even as he kept on pumping them fists excitedly.
"COME ON!!!" He roared in Spanish.
