The rhythm of the match shifted.
Little by little —inch by inch —Bayern began to wrestle back control.
It wasn't easy.
Barcelona still moved like a perfect machine,but cracks had started to show.
Tiny gaps.Slight hesitations.
And Mateo could feel it.
Every minute on the pitch,his breathing steadied.His mind sharpened.His instincts adjusted to the speed.
The ball didn't seem so impossibly fast anymore.
The pressure —while still heavy —felt almost exhilarating.
In the 18th minute, the chance came.
It started with Kimmich, stealing the ball with a surgical tackle in midfield.
A quick pass to Musiala —then a slick touch to Goretzka —who looked up and spotted Mateo sprinting wide.
The ball zipped across the field toward him.
The moment it reached his feet,Mateo exploded into action.
The Barcelona fullback lunged at him aggressively.
Mateo chopped the ball sharply inside with his left foot —the defender overcommitted.
In a flash, Mateo was past him.
The Allianz Arena roared.
He accelerated toward the penalty area.
Pedri rushed to cover.
Gavi shadowed back.
For a heartbeat, it felt like all of Barcelona was converging on him.
But Mateo didn't panic.
He feinted a shot, sending Pedri stumbling slightly.
Then he slid a perfectly timed, delicate pass toward Mathys Tel —cutting between the center-backs like threading a needle.
Tel controlled it —one touch,two touches,and unleashed a low shot toward the far post.
The stadium held its breath.
The ball whistled past the outstretched fingers of Barcelona's keeper...
And grazed the outside of the post.
So close.
Agonizingly close.
Tel dropped to his knees, clenching his fists.
Mateo exhaled sharply, hands on his hips.
They were inches from glory.
But still —the crowd erupted into applause.
It wasn't a goal —but it was a statement.
Bayern was here.
Mateo González was here.
And Barcelona had been warned.
From the sideline, Kompany clapped his hands, shouting encouragement.
On the field, Musiala jogged over, bumping Mateo's shoulder lightly.
"That was brilliant," he said, grinning.
Mateo grinned back.
He was breathing hard, but smiling.
He could feel it now —the energy flowing through him.
Across the pitch, Lamine Yamal watched him with a faint smirk.
The silent duel continued.
"You're good," Lamine's eyes seemed to say.
"Let's see if you can keep up."
Mateo gave a small nod back.
"Let's see if you can."
The match pressed on, faster, harder.
Barcelona attacked.
Bayern countered.
Tackles flew.
Passes zipped.
It wasn't just a friendly anymore.
It was a battlefield.