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This was a match that tossed and turned, as if stricken by a fever.
Croatia wrung out every drop of energy, and sent it splattering to the turf in Moscow. France, stoic and confident, were unperturbed, and finished convincing World Cup champions.
Almost sneeringly, and enjoying a gentle caress of good fortune, France wiped away the dream of a fairy tale winner.
This was, to one degree or another – and whether you like it or not – perhaps always going to be their World Cup.
Croatia began the game with a snap in the tackle, and a biting early press. Their presence in the final, as good as their team is, is fairly remarkable; two penalty shootouts survived, a goal-down comeback against England – Croatia knew this opportunity had to be taken with gusto, and were playing accordingly.
They were pressing with venom, and fouling France when a whiff of a counter-attack was scented. Luka Modric was seen fouling Samuel Umtiti early, having bullrushed him, a manic football goblin scurrying with intent. France seemed slightly affronted by it all.
(Photo by James Williamson – AMA/Getty Images)
The opening 15 minutes saw Croatia breathlessly fashion half-chances, rocking France back on their heels, all blustery running and aggressive panting.
And as soon as France dug themselves in, and shook themselves out of their slow start, they scored in very fortunate circumstances.
Having been largely pinned back in their own half, dealing with the Croatian flurry, Antoine Griezmann won a free kick, in a lovely position, to the right of the Croatian box.
He struck it beautifully, and it curled down that perilous corridor where any touch could see it bulge the net.
It was Mario Mandzukic whose head the ball glanced off before flying inside the far post. An own-goal, against the run of play; found gold for France and a harrowing gut-punch for Croatia.
Just as they had against Belgium, France had scored from a set piece having been the second-best team during the opening stanza. Deschamps nodded.
But unlike the Belgium game, Croatia hit back with a set piece goal of their own, pummelled bruisingly past Hugo Lloris by Ivan Perisic.
A routine of sorts was executed from a fairly innocuous free kick, as Modric clipped the ball to a deliberate runner haring in toward the far side of the box.
He headed back across goal, and France failed to clear, the ball bouncing threateningly from contested header to contested header.
Perisic eventually applied a becalming touch, jinked around N’Golo Kante, and smashed the ball back across his body, ripping into the net. 1-1, a game, then, and how wonderful it was to see.
More drama was to come. A corner for France, slung in at speed, was spearing toward Blaise Matuidi’s head.
Matuidi stooped, or was nudged under the ball, and the ball arrived rather unexpectedly at Perisic, who was airborne with limbs outstretched.
Had the ball struck his hand? Upon VAR review, the referee decided it had, and Greizmann rolled the penalty past Subašić. Another fairly fortunate goal for France, and they retook the lead.
The match was so high on tension, so fraught with nervous energy, that it was hard really to judge the contest tactically.
The teams exchanged periods of possession, though Croatia had more of them. Even Modric, with all his otherworldly poise, could only rarely apply stud on ball and let the play catch its breath.
France had enjoyed around 40 per cent of possession at the half, and it would have suited them perfectly, given the score.
But they hadn’t had a chance to really flex on the counter, which will have concerned Didier Deschamps. To France’s credit, Croatia hadn’t had many clear chances from open play either.
Croatia began the second half as they had the first, full of verve and eagerness and appetite to level the scores for a second time.
A pitch invasion halted the game for a minute or two, intruders with a political agenda, we were told on the telecast, not that we saw it; there’s no small amount of irony in working clammily to separate football and politics, in a game involving Croatia.
Croatia were working hard again. And France were resisting ably, and as soon as they got the ball, they rushed up the other end and scored.
Paul Pogba, having been fairly quiet, slapped a perfect volleyed pass past two Croatian players, out to Mbappe on the right wing.
The young Frenchman swerved this way and that, and dashed into the Croatian box. The ball, after a few bobbles, fell to Pogba again, whose first shot was repelled, but whose second shot was hit firmly with the instep.
It flew past Subašić, who was unsighted. 3-1 now, and France had landed another thudding blow to the Croatian midriff, having not had the ball, before Pogba’s goal, for about five minutes.
(Photo by Clive Rose/Getty Images)
The score didn’t represent the competitiveness of the contest, and it was about to become even less accurate a representation, as Lucas Hernandez dashed past three Croatian defenders.
He smacked a cross into Kylian Mbappe, who sized up Domagoj Vida, the only defender between him and the goal. He struck a shot, and it skidded back across his body. Subašić barely moved. 4-1.
As thoughts of a rout blew into Croatian minds, they were waved away by another bizarre twist to this final.
Hugo Lloris, under regulation pressure while receiving a regulation back pass, decided it would be wise to try and poke the ball past the onrushing Mandzukic, who is ever the trier.
The French keeper only managed to poke the ball into the striker’s foot, and the ball was pinballed into the goal.
A truly jaw-dropping error, and it was lucky France were already three goals up. A glimmer of hope for Croatia though. 4-2.
France settled back into their defensive stance, rattled by their captain’s error, and probably looking at their now-two-goal lead as more than enough to ride the match out with.
Steven Nzonzi, who had come on for Kante after 55 minutes, was dropping back into the defensive line, effectively forming a back five.
Croatia were shuffling the ball from side to side, activating Šime Vrsaljko in particular down the right flank, but France’s defensive unit was a golem, unyielding and unwilling to allow that telling final pass.
Subs were made, time was wasted with exaggerated injuries; the Croatians were grimacing and gesticulating with every incident of gamesmanship, both real and perceived.
The odd back and forth of the match simmered down to expose a bare reality; after scoring their second goal, France had curled their fingers around the trophy then, and their grip hadn’t slipped.
Deschamps built this team to win this tournament, instructed them to play in a way that minimised risk, and it worked perfectly.
The French players streamed onto the pitch at the final whistle, as the Croatians slumped to the turf.
Luck wasn’t with Modric and company, but it wasn’t the difference. France, regal, strutting and rich, were deserved 4-2 winners.