, an impossibly intricate 1-1, a 1-1 draw for the ages, Luis Díaz set off down the left touchline. This is a footballer who always seems from first minute to last to be in the process of fleeing a burning building, who has no cruise setting or eco gear, who is always straight into Insanity Mode.
After the break it was Liverpool’s turn to apply a more disruptive energy. In that period Díaz missed at least three yawningly open chances to score. He also never stopped, or settled, or seemed able to tear himself away from the spectacle. It felt like a kind of high, a reminder that a 1-1 draw over 90 minutes retains the capacity to express so much drama, so many moments of shifting energy. The Premier League may be faced with its own concealed horizon, shifting forces off stage, court dates looming, the antigravity of its own economic heft. Who knows how long this thing will last in this form? But it remains a sensational sporting league, still romping through its own Hollywood golden age era.
It is all part of the attempt to create a narrative, a way to win. The fact is this City team is a generational winning machine. Here they simply blew Liverpool away at the start, making the pitch feel tiny, cutting off angles, making every single pass or shift of direction a puzzle to be solved.