Suddenly, somehow, Caitlin Foord had the ball at her feet at the halfway line, in a moment of relief from the suffocating Chinese midfield. The match was in the balance at 1-1, and this fine generation of Matildas was as close to glory as they were to embarrassment in the feverish pressure of another home tournament.
The pitch of the crowd’s cheers climbed, as their eyes descended on Sam Kerr, now in space between two red jerseys in China’s last line of defence. The captain took four brisk steps, showing acceleration the whispers wondered whether she still possessed.
