In the blink of an eye, shame and despair turned to delirious joy.
To be sure, the full importance of the Nationalmannschaft’s great escape in Sochi is yet to unfold in the context of this tournament. It could prove massively significant — if the World Cup holders end up defending the trophy, which still feels unlikely — or completely inconsequential — if they get knocked in the third group game next week, which now feels unlikely again. Or it could be neither of the two.
But Toni Kroos’s ice-cool thunderbolt in the most desperate of hours did more, much more, than to pull back the holders from near-certain elimination to a position of relative strength. It had a magical effect all by its own, unconnected to the complicated permutations in Group F or the wider prospects of this team in Russia.
With one clean strike of the ball, that moment of hugs and screams and open mouths and fists in the air and shaky mobile phone footage brought Germany, the team and its people, back together again, in the first riot of collective ecstasy the country experienced since Mario Gotze smashed in the golden goal at the Maracana four years — an eternity — ago.
No one had been prepared for this much drama, least of all this early in the competition, and the sheer relief that flowed from Kroos’s coup de classe. Only a few days ago, a football nation that had gotten used to easy wins despised Joachim Low’s side for the misery and anger they had inflicted on them it with that expected defeat against Mexico.
On Saturday night they adored the same men — down one player for the last 12 minutes and chasing a goal after their frailty at the back had come to the fore once more — for delivering them at the other emotional extreme, without any forewarning. Nothing beats a late winner for the rush of endorphins.