As the players gathered to rehydrate, Jules Koundé seemed to slip into his own little world completely detached from the chatter and energy around him.
Raphinha and Lamine Yamal, quick to spot the scene, exchanged knowing glances and locked their eyes on him for nearly a full minute, quietly chuckling to themselves. It was as if they were watching a daydream play out in real time.
Koundé, utterly zoned out, didn’t even register their amused stares at first. His expression was calm yet distant the kind you see when someone is lost in thought about something far away from the match. Was he replaying a defensive slip in his mind? Strategizing his next move? Or perhaps thinking about something completely unrelated to football like the taste of the post-match meal waiting for him?
Whatever it was, for those brief moments, the pitch, the crowd, and even his laughing teammates seemed to fade away, replaced by the private world inside his head.
