With 30 minutes to go at Anfield, there was a moment of home cinema that would go down as the defining image of this 2-0 Liverpool victory, perhaps even of Conor Bradley’s young career to date, and which certainly also produced the loudest and most profound roar of the Night. And let’s be honest: who doesn’t like a loud and soulful roar?

It came from a Liverpool corner, Kylian Mbappé carried the ball up and felt the night beginning to open up before him. At this point comes Bradley, who rushes in from the left with an energy that conveys very clearly that this is not a footballer who pressures, pushes or shows Mbappé the outside, but instead has the intention To separate Mbappé’s feet and also the ball from the Anfield turf.

You could already feel the air beginning to rise, like the static before a lightning strike, and how the crowd took a collective breath as Bradley made his way, took the ball, turned Mbappé and was greeted from three sides with a kind of thunderclap became. People so loud in the city center will have simply assumed that Liverpool had scored.

It was just an all-round nice evening for Bradley, who had the chance to compete against Mbappé from the start. It was excellent selection from Arne Slot, who could have relied on the relative safety of Joe Gomez but instead simply trusted the talent. Slot spent the night striding his sidelines, his deliciously smooth and delicate skull gleaming under the midweek lights, and it’s safe to say he’s currently leading the best team in Europe.

For Bradley, the duel with Mbappé was almost a blockbuster. The memes, the badly photoshopped head literally sticking out of a picture of a bag. Between defending with real clarity and aggression, there was the crucial phase at the start of the second half when Bradley began to appear in the Madrid penalty area, completely upside down, now unfazed by the Galactico at his back. From there, Bradley found the clean pass that set up Alexis Mac Allister’s opening goal, a pivot and a shot that essentially ended the game. In the end, Madrid even declared that they would kick him. There is no greater compliment.

Anfield had been fresh, calm and authentically cool at kick-off. The Super Champions League was designed with such an evening in mind, with the idea that we would all just spend our time gorging ourselves on sweets and sucking up the super club’s power flash. And at this point, there’s still something compelling about those big old notes, the blocks of red and white. The feeling that all that really matters is the moment in this clean, clear square of light.

Liverpool had their own motivation to play hard here. This was a chance for Slot to push further into his own territory as Liverpool manager and make it clear that he is no longer tending and sprucing up someone else’s garden.

It should be said that Liverpool faced a much reduced version of Madrid, missing six key players. Without Vinícius Jr. they are simply a different team. Not in every phase, but in their threat, their sharpness, the idea of ​​what they could do to you, like Thor going into battle without his hammer. At least Mbappé got what he wanted: the chance to not only be the man, but also the man on the left.

It’s been a difficult transition so far. Mbappé appeared fragile and afraid. He was booed heavily at the start and then had to watch as Mac Allister stole the ball and fed a galloping Darwin Núñez, always the best Darwin Núñez. And to be honest, Mbappé never really recovered.

There is a fundamental lack of malice. Later in the half, he took on Bradley again, made at least 40 whistling overtakes, a man’s close to a football game, and then lost the ball.

With the score 0-1 down, he finally managed to get away from Bradley and helped get the ball to Madrid and score a penalty. He also missed the ball and scored a terrible penalty that Caoimhín Kelleher basically could have caught just as well.

Otherwise, Liverpool dominated Madrid physically, in an evening marked by these bravura moments. Early on, Núñez Cruyff spun past Jude Bellingham from a corner and then danced away in front of the lower tier of the stands, who responded like an Olympic ice dancing audience, purring, blowing kisses and raising their hands to their throats.

There was another Bradley moment in the 64th minute when he glided into the Madrid penalty area, watched a cross sail over his head and turned to see Mo Salah return 40 yards to pass the ball steal, a wonderful feat of superstar betrayal that could only have happened It would have been better if Salah had done it while he was literally holding a contract in his hand and the pages were flapping around behind him. Minutes later, Salah also missed a penalty.

Perhaps the best thing for Liverpool and Slot was that it never seemed to matter.