Oof. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Not out on pens. Not tonight.

Most of Wales was saving up the hwyl, or the Ultra-hwyl for next week – for The Big One. But no. Bosnia and Herzegovina did that stealth-bomb-victory thing; firstly creeping into the game, then nicking it, as two Welsh players – Johnson and Williams – had radar malfunctions over their spot-kicks.

Johnson had been anonymous all night, and this always makes me think that a player not on his game just shouldn’t take a penalty. Know many will either disagree, or say that top pro’s can switch that bad energy off and stroke the ball home, even in that prodigious moment. Not sure I agree. If I’m the gaffer I take charge and look deep into the eyes of my players. I take it out of their hands (or yaknow, feet). If they either seem tremulous or they’ve played like a donkey, they don’t take the pen.

Not that Johnson played *really poorly*: he was just mediocre. As was Dan James – who is mediocre – until that extraordinary moment where he latched on to a ball beyond the last man (as per his entire career) but then took it spookily and magnificently early and smashed it past the Bosnian keeper. As absolutely not per… but truly gloriously.

O-kaay, the keeper was leaden-footed, for sure, but again we might credit the forward for striking (as it were) on the up and, if we were cruelly-inclined, against the grain of pret-ty overwhelming evidence. It was a brilliant, brilliant goal, from a genuinely mediocre player, who despite what you heard from the painfully myopic commentary team, had been his usual wasteful, sloppy, kick-ball-flytastic self for most of the first period. (But hey – ain’t life wonderful?)

The visitors had predictably adopted the ‘take no prisoners’ approach. Equally as predictably, James and Wilson were both guilty of exaggerating contacts – something the referee seemed notably unimpressed by.

The fella’s probably been reading my socials. Unpopular opinion number eight zillion: the ref had a largely decent game, and seemed to read those two players particularly well. Meaning his homework has probably included watching a good deal of the Prem or Championship over recent years. The crowd, of course, mostly bayed their disapproval at his appalling bias.

Wales started well, without creating. Ampadu and Wilson looked like players but Bellamy’s side again lacked bite or brilliance in and around the box… until James’s stunning intervention. Later, when the game began to drift from them, Harris, Cullen and Thomas came on to provide legs/energy/threat. Only the latter succeeded. Cullen committed one particularly bad foul then jogged around avoiding the game. (I think he has done that a little, for Wales). Harris had only a couple of meaningful interjections. Thomas, playing wide right then cutting-in to curl crosses or slide passes to the edge of the box, did well – was probably the home team’s best player in the last forty minutes – but there was no fox-in-the-box or thrillingly out-of-the-blue James-like cannon from outside of it. It had ‘one goal is not enough’ written all over it.

Bosnia were set to contain for as long as… and could do that. On the basis that one goal conceded left them well in the contest. Rivetingly, their number ten gave one of the worst or weakest exhibitions of forward play you are ever likely to see: he could have won the damn thing, before overtime, but fell into almost comical (but obviously tragic) serial-fluffing. (Later he was gifted their first penalty, which of course he missed). But they were in the game – from about the hour mark, they were in the game.

Dzeko, almost criminally, given who he is/what he does, squeezed in a header to equalise and then it was pens. No real argument. In the way of these things – in tournament football, I mean – Bosnia had opened out just a little and looked at least as likely to score as Wales did, as the match huffed and hustled to its cruel-joyful destiny.

There had to be a denouement and there was. But let’s deep-dive into sacrilege before we face-plant into it. Take the characteristically tremendous crowd out of this (as if you could, or would!) and maybe the event would’ve seemed kinda tepid, despite the exfoliating drama? In the sense that the fayre was mid-quality, at best. (We should mention in passing here that the visiting fans were a blast, right?) but the wider, erm sandblasting truth might be that Wales have two really good players – Wilson and Ampadu – and Bosnia had one – Dzeko – and he was substituted, knackered, for extra-time.

Wales thought they would be roaring to glory or doom against the might of Italia. They’re not: they’re out.