Didn’t the rain hammer down?
Drowning out the raucous fans.
Not that that was the only thing,
To put them in their place.
A dominant performance from Bayern.
Steffen Baumgart’s flat cap flooded,
Still can’t keep his cool.
Not pretty, not cute, not always fun to watch;
A win’s a win, and this was easy.
A simple finish from a well-worked move,
Koln will keep kicking themselves for it.
A pass easily cut out with a firm foot,
Play transported with speed unknown
Up to Kane, fresh from his international break.
No chance that North Macedonia would have attacked like that,
And found themselves so exposed.
The Maltese were quicker out of the trap,
But escaped the English overload.
A Bayern goal, not Spurs nor country.
Totally different game, the lad has adapted well.
Nope, it was club football on the menu again.
Kane opened up space, a delicious, licorice whip out to the right.
Choupo-Moting’s shot blocked off the line,
Kane completes the zig-zagging movement of the ball
And eases it into the net.
Calm, casual celebration. He does this all the time.
The most goals by an Englishman,
In one Bundesliga season; fine,
Fine, form.
Sane was finding remarkable space on the left,
But Thielmann and Schwabe have been equal to it.
Driving at their outside shoulder with fury,
The polar opposite to ol’ Kingsley Colman facing them up,
Looking to get the central players into the action,
Early in the second half.
Koln, desperate to use their right-hand side,
Needing to undercut a tough defensive overload.
They traced a blunted hammer:
Head flat and blocked as it meets a stern Bayern defense.
Knocking it back down the shaft,
To the sanctuary of their goal, Koln find space;
Inevitably turned over when the ball hits the center.
Lack of invention, a class apart.
If there is one thing that has never been learned, though,
By big-horned, Billy Goats,
Is not to change when faced with adversity.
Keep butting at your tormenter,
See what comes out of it,
You could surprise yourselves.
Hennes looked on, not allowed to eat his own ground’s grass.
Koln continued to work on the right.
This stunted channel, their best bet.
As time moved on, Bayern broke out of their boredom,
Sane and Coman seem to move in.
They’re leaving spaces on their comfortable,
Well-defended wings.
The full-backs are pushing on,
The midfielders are pulling out.
Kane is withdrawing deeper.
The home fans are starting to doubt.
The rapid, intrepid wingers now switching,
To really pull Koln around.
Just the act of movement draws the defenders to the middle,
Where the grass turns to pure mud,
And the ball becomes impossible to possess.
Bayern can’t help but keep it amongst themselves.
The home team scuffle and shake to win the ball,
Nothing going.
Bayern have won the midfield.
Koln keep their shape in defense,
Despite the incremental rejigging
Of Bayern’s shifting shape.
Kane is a constant spectre:
Here and then not,
Then here again, out from underneath the black swirling curtain folds.
Each of Bayern’s attackers’s kits ruffle and glow darkly
As they transition across the pitch.
They follow the hoary shape of the wind.
Kane’s header wins a corner.
It goes nowhere.
Coman and Sane finally combine:
Coman, moved from right to left,
From the left,
Finds Sane,
Moved from the left to the right,
On the right.
Meeting it late,
The ball splashed away and behind by Schwabe.
Corners are adding up,
Not quite all square.
Bayern looking to extend their lead.
Two headers at that same, very corner.
Flicked on from the near post,
Coman’s terminal header,
Flashes up off the bar.
No subs made by Bayern.
English commentary psychoanalysing Tuchel.
Is there any point?
He sits, shaking his head.
Disgusted by what he’s seeing.
Driving his own stubbornness.
A strange performance to witness.
All Bayern, really.
Even Bayern in attack.
Yet, how many shots?
How dangerous have they looked?
Koln keep pushing to the end.
Not a bad display, although never really going anywhere.
Kim and Neuer can look a little jittery.
Although they keep their cool to keep it out, again.
Inviting trouble, some may say.
Bailing themselves out after baiting dangerous pressure in.
Anything to keep the game interesting,
For those on the pitch.
Koln win the ball in their own half,
A poor pass from Sane.
But Bayern regroup and swarm like killer bees
Or frenzied bluebottles.
Dark shirts engulf the white-stripped Koln.
Made it look easy.
Total control.
A final Koln corner swept away.
Not quite comfortably,
But do we really know at this point?
Willingly self-destructive;
Inviting Koln to see the big red button,
Shoo’ing them away when they reach out to press it.
Let them have it, let them have it.
Result never seemed in doubt.
Why use your subs?
If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
The Disinterested Philosopher Gets By 