The lower bowl of the stadium still buzzed from the goal as pockets of fans leaned toward each other, half laughing, half stunned.
"I swear we were just telling him before kickoff," one man said, shaking his head while replaying the moment on his phone.
"We asked him to turn around, give us even a tiny bit of that Singapore magic. But this? This is ridiculous."
His friend let out a breath that sounded more like a laugh.
"This isn't Singapore. This is something else, and to be completely honest, I do not even think that is his best yet."
"No, just think about it. He's a bit more relaxed on this game. Think about if he were to go to the levels he went against Barcelona, against Yokohama. Our team would be cooked."
Right below them, a small group of teenagers stood pressed against the railing.
One of them cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled toward the pitch even though Izan was a good hundred meters away.
"Izan! We get it, alright? You're insane!"
