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... till high, still hungry—but Silva didn’t wait.
He shifted his weight as the ball came to his feet, pulled the defender wide with one feint, then burned past him down the right. No buildup—just space eaten in three long strides.
The crowd stood.
Roney darted near post, and Vélez ghosted central. Silva waited—held his cross half a heartbeat longer—then cut it low across the six-yard line, skipping past the first man.
Vélez hit it on the run.
Clean.
B ...
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