The ache in Leon's hip was a dull throb, a souvenir from Haaland's thunderous shot.
But it was a small price to pay. As he finally limped out of the dressing room, the cheers of the winning Manchester City squad still faintly audible from their side of the tunnel, a strange mix of exhaustion and exhilaration surged through him.
Four-two. A loss. But for Leon, it felt like a victory of a different kind.
He had faced giants, and he hadn't just survived; he'd made an impact.
"Fischer! You were immense, mate!"
It was Ollie Watkins (Current: 86), catching up to him, a broad grin on his face.
"That goal! The touch, the finish, absolute class. And that assist for my goal, don't even get me started. You saw something none of us did."
He clapped Leon on the back, carefully avoiding his hip.
John McGinn (Current: 84), always the motivator, nodded.
"He's right, Leon. You changed that game in the last twenty minutes. Showed them what you're made of."
