That goal completely ignited Argentina's momentum.
They had found the perfect way to shut down Spain's passing rhythm.
In the 16th minute, Rodríguez chipped another ball forward, once again connecting with Crespo.
Crespo headed it home for what looked like his second of the match…
But the assistant referee's flag went up—offside! The goal didn't count.
In the 18th minute, Luis García was brought down by Mascherano, but the referee didn't even pull out a card.
By the 24th minute, the world's last true classical playmaker, Juan Román Riquelme, faked out his marker on the left and fired a shot that was half pass, half strike.
It flew just over the crossbar, sending coach Aragonés into a cold sweat.
Riquelme had been the heart of Argentina for years now.
In La Liga, he was the only player who could truly challenge Ronaldinho in recent seasons.
Two years earlier, he had beaten Ronaldinho to win La Liga's Best Player award—earning that honor a full year before the Brazilian.
Su Hang blinked. "Wait, so you're saying this year's La Liga Best Player—that's me—still isn't as good as second-place Ronaldinho or third-place Riquelme?"
In the 29th minute, Raúl was fouled hard by Heinze.
Spain earned a free kick, but again, the referee kept his cards in his pocket.
Su Hang frowned, rose from the bench, and walked over to the fourth official.
"Excuse me, sir—did the referee forget to bring his deck of cards today?"
The fourth official shot him a sharp glare but didn't reply.
Still, Su Hang's frustration mirrored that of the players on the field—Spain was seething over the officiating.
In the 33rd minute, Saviola dribbled through traffic and unleashed a long-range shot.
Puyol reacted quickly, blocking it, and Ibáñez headed the rebound clear.
Alonso picked up the ball and launched a counterattack—
But Cambiasso dragged him down from behind.
This time, the referee finally reached for a yellow card.
Cambiasso went into the book.
Yet Argentina's rough, hard-tackling style completely broke apart Spain's developing possession-based play.
The game turned scrappy and chaotic.
In the 41st minute, Argentina's left-back Sorín latched onto a brilliant diagonal pass from Riquelme and whipped in a cross.
Maxi Rodríguez met it first time, unleashing a thunderous strike—a stunning world-class goal!
The ball soared high, dipped sharply, and rocketed into the top corner.
Casillas stretched out desperately, but it still flew past him.
An absolute wonder goal.
It was certain to be remembered as one of the best goals of this World Cup.
No one could have stopped it—
Even Rodríguez himself probably couldn't repeat that strike in a lifetime.
But once was enough.
Rodríguez laughed as he sprinted toward the stands behind the goal, celebrating wildly with the fans.
2–1!
Argentina had completed the comeback!
"Viva Argentina!"
"Crush the Spaniards!"
"Beautiful goal!"
The camera quickly cut to the same Argentine fan who had caused trouble earlier.
Because now, he was at it again.
He jumped up, arms low, striking the "siu" pose—and yelled, "Siuuu!"
But the mocking grin on his face made it obvious—he wasn't paying tribute to Su Hang.
He was mocking him.
Soon, the nearby Argentine fans joined in, copying the gesture and chanting together.
The entire stadium erupted.
"Siuuuuuu!"
The "siu" chants echoed through the arena—a calculated taunt aimed squarely at Spain's so-called "overrated captain."
They believed it would strike the deepest blow to Spain's morale.
"Our captain delivers assists on the field; your captain just throws tantrums off it! That's the real difference between us!"
The Argentine fans trampled Spain's dignity without restraint.
Of course, not all Argentine supporters behaved that way.
But in moments like this, the loudest provocateurs always drew the most attention—and the most support.
That troublemaker had become the ringleader,
The self-proclaimed "fan captain" leading the taunts.
The camera panned to the Spanish bench.
Several players were red-faced with anger—some even ready to confront the Argentine fans.
Ironically, the man being mocked, Su Hang, was the calmest of them all.
He was even trying to calm his teammates—Joaquín, Torres, and the others.
"It's fine, guys."
"Stay cool. Don't get booked while sitting on the bench—it'll hurt your chances of getting on."
"And besides, their celebration's wrong anyway. If I get the chance, I'll show them how it's really done."
Raúl glanced toward Su Hang from the pitch, feeling a strange heaviness in his chest.
He knew that if Su Hang didn't care about the consequences, he wouldn't be sitting there—he'd be out on the field.
And maybe, Raúl thought bitterly, he himself didn't belong out here—he belonged under the bus.
"I'm really twenty-nine already…" Raúl muttered, shaking his head.
It wasn't old, and he didn't feel finished.
But he had to admit—
At his current level, he no longer seemed sharp enough to be the spearhead of the Invincible Armada.
Spain needed a deadlier finisher.
In the 45th minute, García delivered a corner.
Raúl prepared to jump—but suddenly felt a sharp pain in his thigh as an Argentine defender brought him down inside the box.
Still, the referee stayed silent.
Furious, Raúl stormed up to him.
"Foul! That was a clear foul! Do you think I'd just fall over for no reason?"
Heinze sneered beside him.
"Why not? Even Adriano in his prime used to dive. You're older than him—diving's probably your best move now!"
"Bullshit!" Raúl shoved Heinze.
Players from both sides quickly swarmed around.
The referee, having seen the whole thing, didn't hesitate—he showed Raúl a yellow card.
Immediately, the Spanish bench erupted.
"Fuck! Damn it! Fuck you!"
Simon let out every curse Su Hang had used earlier, sparing Su Hang the trouble.
The fourth official quickly reported the outburst.
Moments later, the referee marched over and showed Simon a red card.
"Oh! A member of Spain's coaching staff has been sent off!"
"The good news—it's not Aragonés."
"The bad news—it's Simon! The tactical genius who led Real Madrid to four trophies last season, including the Champions League!"
"This is a massive blow for Spain—Simon is known for his tactical brilliance!"
"The referee's decisions tonight have been highly questionable! Not long ago, another official was suspended for poor officiating, and this one may face the same."
"He's been dreadful tonight—clearly favoring Argentina."
Moments later, the whistle blew for halftime.
The Spanish players stormed off the field in anger.
Raúl, however, lingered behind.
Before entering the tunnel, he looked up at the stands, his eyes filled with reluctant emotion.
"Raúl, come on—the team meeting's starting," Su Hang called from inside the tunnel.
Raúl smiled faintly, nodded, and followed Su Hang in.