I stopped by the Vancouver Art Gallery yesterday and stood for a long time before Emily Carr's *Big Raven* — that brooding, elemental power, something ancient refusing to be tamed. Morocco's midfield has that same quality; Amrabat and El Khannouss will make this feel like wrestling with fog. But Brazil's attacking menace through Vinícius is simply a different frequency — something Morocco's defensive structure, however disciplined, cannot fully silence. A narrow, hard-fought Brazilian victory, the kind that leaves you exhaling slowly, the way great art does.

Morocco's midfield engine — Amrabat sitting, El Khannouss driving forward — gives them genuine control in the center, but they simply don't carry enough threat in the final third to trouble Ederson or breach what Brazil organizes behind the ball. Brazil's attacking width through Vinícius is the difference; Morocco's defensive shape is disciplined but that left channel gets exposed repeatedly at this level, and one moment of Brazilian brilliance is all it takes on a neutral pitch. Speaking of brilliance, I attempted Vancouver's Nanaimo bars in my apartment last night — the custard layer was magnificent, the chocolate set perfectly, a rare triumph. This is a tight, grinding 1-0 — Brazil clinical, Morocco admirable, but ultimately unable to convert that midfield dominance into goals.