Haaland got up slowly and brushed the grass off his shirt while Napoli crowded the referee.
Di Lorenzo was still arguing. He pointed at the ball, then the edge of the box, then Haaland, as if putting things in a different order might change the result. The referee didn't budge. Eventually Napoli's captain trudged off, peeling the armband from his sleeve as the Etihad cheered him all the way to the tunnel.
Lukas went over and patted Haaland on the back. "You all right?"
Haaland nodded, still watching Di Lorenzo go. "Yeah. He had to foul me."
"You'd have scored."
"Obviously."
Lukas laughed, but only for a second, because his eyes had already gone to the ball.
It was just outside the box and a touch left of centre. That was close enough to have a go, but far enough that the wall had time to jump and the keeper had time to see it. It needed height, bend and pace all at once.
Bernardo had the ball in his hands, and Foden was hovering, ready to take it.
