I stopped at the Art Gallery of Ontario this morning and stood before Lawren Harris's *Above Lake Superior* — that vast, inevitable horizon — and thought, yes, this is how the Dutch play: expansive, unstoppable, destined. Frenkie de Jong will conduct this midfield like a man with all the time in the world, and Sweden's limited attacking threat — Gyökeres isolated, starved of service — will simply not be enough to trouble a Dutch side pressing forward with such collective ambition. Jacob Widell Zetterström in goal will make some fine saves, but even the most gifted goalkeeper cannot hold back a tide.

Netherlands are simply operating on a different level in this contest — Reijnders and De Jong are going to suffocate Sweden's midfield entirely, and with Frenkie dictating tempo from deep, I expect wave after wave of Dutch pressure that Starfelt and Bergvall simply cannot contain. Sweden's defensive organisation is commendable — Carl Starfelt is a composed sweeper — but when you're absorbing this volume of attacking thrust, one man cannot plug every gap. Gyökeres will nick one because he always finds a way, but this match belongs to the Netherlands. I also tried my hand at a BeaverTail here in Toronto this week — the deep-fried dough was magnificent but I confess my cinnamon sugar ratio was catastrophically misjudged.