In it went, for the last time. Dani Carvajal’s pass was clipped into the area, Isco’s control on the chest was impeccable, and the shot went through Tom Heaton’s legs and into the net. Heaton sank to the floor and others followed him, disbelief hitting as hard as Dani Carvajal hit the corner flag celebrating. Spain’s players embraced, screaming vindication. Across the other side of the stadium, a small group of fans in red and yellow leapt and cheered. England’s supporters were shocked and almost silent. Those that were still there, that is. Many had gone already.
Of course they had gone: they thought this was won. Everyone did. Spain, though, had rebelled. Four seconds passed between England taking the kick-off and the final whistle. Six minutes had passed since Iago Aspas had scored the first goal for Spain. England fans had long since raised the torches on their phones, like candles, a Mexican wave going around. When that happens you know you’re beaten and you know they know it too. You know there’s not much of a game going on.
But then, suddenly, belatedly, there was. A game, and a comeback. Goals on 89 minutes and in the fifth minute of stoppage time gave Spain a draw that never appeared plausible. Gareth Southgate wanted to see the fourth official’s watch. How could this have happened, he must have wondered. They all did. In those final minutes this was a different Spain to the one who had gone before.
Six second-half changes, two goals for two substitutes. Aspas curled in a superb first, turning leaping, kissing the badge on his shirt. A debut goal. A consolation goal, too. Or not, as it happened. Isco came next. Spain remain unbeaten under their new manager, Julen Lopetegui. Five wins and this draw. He embraced Southgate at the end; his players embraced each other. There was joy, somehow.
Lopetegui called it a “pleasure” to be here but for so long a night to be enjoyed was one to be endured. A foul on Jamie Vardy, a penalty from Adam Lallana and Spain were behind after nine minutes. The truth is that never looked like changing, until it did change. “Have you been surprised by just how well things are going,” Lopetegui had been asked before the match. No, he replied. The following night, he was surprised by just how bad things went, patrolling his technical area, a frustrated man until that final explosion.
No team have beaten Spain more times than England – 12 in all – and losing was possible, they knew. Losing the way they appeared set to lose was different. Early in the second half one Spanish radio commentator shouted “What a joke!” Soon after, a Mexican wave started travelling around the stadium. Then fans held up their mobiles. That hurt, even if this was a friendly. Because this was not just a friendly – you could see that in the reaction at the end.
Lopetegui had impressed on his players that it was last week’s World Cup qualifier against Macedonia in Granada that really mattered; that he felt the need to do so was telling. The excitement was genuine. “This is a stage and an opponent that obliges you to perform well,” he said. For so much of the night, they simply did not. Others had not even considered it obligatory. One question asked by a Spanish journalist of Lopetegui was: “What is it that you admire about English football – because it can’t be the football.”
Oh no? England impressed; Spain did not. There was little to admire about their football here. There was not even a shot to admire until the 50th minute. Pepé Reina, back after two years and beaten inside 10 minutes, watched England come, dashing his way. It is not as if there were countless chances but his team were overrun. They did not have the thing that is supposed to define them: control.
It did not take long for Lopetegui to intervene, swapping César Azpilicueta to the other side, adding a man to the defence. But Inigo Martínez, in particular, appeared horribly uncomfortable. Vicente Del Bosque and Lopetegui had both admitted there were few options at centre-back; Martínez and Nacho did not disabuse them of that idea.
In front of them, Sergio Busquets was pressured, and felt it. There was little of the ball, no creation, and not one shot. Aritz Aduriz was an island, deserted and distant. Defeat loomed.
Then the changes came, that friendly thing. Five wins under Lopetegui appeared set to be followed by a defeat. Here, of all places. The substitutions seemed to be meaningless but they were anything but. Almost everyone changed, everything changed.
This was a stage for something special and eventually, unexpectedly, it happened. Aspas, Isco. The Spanish sports newspaper Marca had stated, “Wembley, where you walk on a player and walk off a legend”.
They may not have departed as legends exactly but nor did they depart defeated.
