I stopped by the Museum of Fine Arts this morning and stood before John Singer Sargent's *El Jaleo* — all that furious, beautiful energy captured in a single moment — and I thought, yes, this is what Florian Wirtz does to a defence. Germany's midfield, with Kimmich conducting and Musiala gliding between the lines, simply operates at a tempo Mexico cannot match tonight — El Tri's engine room is honest, but it is fighting a different class of orchestra. Ochoa will be magnificent, as he always is when the world doubts Mexico, but one moment of Wirtz brilliance will be enough to separate these sides.

Germany's midfield engine is simply operating at a different frequency here — Kimmich dictating tempo, Wirtz and Musiala ghosting between the lines, and Mexico's midfield trio of Álvarez, Fidalgo, and Pineda will spend most of the night chasing shadows rather than building anything meaningful. Ochoa may well be Mexico's most important man on the pitch, called upon repeatedly as Germany probe and probe until that one clean moment of quality breaks through. I tried my hand at Boston cream pie this week — a respectable attempt, though my custard was a touch too firm — but this German performance, I suspect, will be considerably more polished than my pastry work.