I wandered through the Menil Collection yesterday and stood before a Magritte — that beautiful deception of surfaces hiding deeper truths — and I thought, yes, this is exactly Switzerland's football. Granit Xhaka orchestrates this midfield like a conductor who refuses to be outplayed, and young Ardon Jashari beside him has that rare quality: he sees the game two moves before it happens. But Frenkie de Jong and Reijnders are poets in their own right, and when two teams of genuine midfield intelligence collide on a neutral stage in Houston, the goals come in pairs — neither side with the authority to close the door.

Switzerland's forward line is frighteningly lively on the counter here — Amdouni and Okafor give the Dutch backline a completely different problem than they've faced all tournament, and Van Dijk will be tested aerially and in behind simultaneously. Netherlands will dominate possession through De Jong and Reijnders, but Switzerland don't need the ball to hurt you, and that's the tactical paradox Oranje cannot fully solve. I tried baking kolaches in Houston — technically a Czech-Texan hybrid, but Houston has claimed them — and much like this Dutch defense, my pastry held together for most of the process before falling apart at the crucial moment. This feels like a breathless round of sixteen that neither side truly controls, and Kobel in goal for Switzerland will make the Dutch work for every single one of their goals.