As Jordan Pickford punched away the umpteenth Mexican cross and the Australian official blew the final whistle, Jude Bellingham collapsed in victory inside the England penalty area. Battered, bruised, exhausted. Sometimes, the Real Madrid midfielder’s histrionics are a tad questionable. Not this time.
The magnitude of the stage – the World Cup’s most iconic stadium – was inescapable. England were public enemy No 1, facing the co-hosts in their near-impenetrable fortress. And at an altitude of 7,200m, Bellingham did not catch his breath: he was simply breathless.
Nobody rose to the occasion more than England’s talismanic attacking midfielder on Sunday night. And it wasn’t just his goals, which were brilliant by the way. It was his last-ditch tackles, his phenomenal hold-up play, his output off the ball, his motivational barks at his teammate, his wondrous quick feet.
And as the big screens cut to Bellingham amidst the downpour of the pre-match warm-up and he looked up, a wipe of his brow perhaps foreshadowed the 90 minutes ahead. His inference was simple: this was to be his stage.
Whether it be a debut in El Clásico, a Champions League final or major international tournaments, nothing brings the best out of Bellingham – still only 23 years of age, the youngest England player ever to reach 50 caps – like the grandest of arenas.
The cauldron of the Azteca, with thunder in the skies and on the terraces, felt like a momentous cultural occasion as opposed to a football match. The one-hour delay only added to the spectacle. And the order of the day was ear-splittingly simple: rousing cheers for the hosts, deafening jeers for the visitors.
And it takes some recalling to remember that Mexico were actually well on top after half an hour. Yet one Declan Rice surge down the pitch, one chipped Bukayo Saka cross and one diving Bellingham header set England on their way.
Simple enough, on paper. Yet off-beat, Bellingham’s slightest of faints to go near post before shifting to the back post, leaving forlorn Mexican marker Roberto Alvarado for dead, made the goal. Without it, Saka’s cross finds a deserted patch of grass.
Ninety-eight seconds later, Bellingham had his second. England won the ball from kick-off, Bellingham fed Harry Kane who reversed with pinpoint accuracy for Bellingham who, in his midfield battle with Mexico’s dogged Erik Lira, beat him to the punch again here.
There were other solo highlights. A goal-saving challenge on the stroke of half-time at the back post. A dazzling run, beating two men for dead in midfield on-the-turn before taking it – as the best sometimes do – a step too far. An audacious attempt from the halfway line which, though it looked unthreatening, had Mexico goalkeeper Raul Rangel backpedalling.
Even a one-minute retention of the ball in the corner in stoppage time triggered the customary sight of Bellingham geeing up the home supporters; a gesture which appears to be his favourite thing to do in this tournament.
It was a sumptuous performance, laced with supreme skill and unwavering determination. To think Thomas Tuchel dropped him from the squad eight months ago is now, well, unthinkable. As England prepared to run towards their fans in celebration at full-time, Bellingham raced to Tuchel and the pair exchanged the biggest of bear hugs, memories of maternal repulsiveness a distant memory.
The German boss has England’s star performers, Bellingham and Kane, the goalscorers again, firing bullseyes and desperate to one-up the other. It is the pairing which has England fans, drunk with joy in Mexico City and euphoric on caffeine back home, dreaming that perhaps something special is in the offing this summer.
