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... lank—but Silva reads it like a schoolbook. He steps up, intercepts clean, and is off.
With a sudden sprint, he blazes past Fred, who's caught square. Now there's space. The Kop roars him forward.
He looks up—Richter is already peeling away from Škriniar, bending his run diagonally between the lines.
Darke:
"Silva driving—he's seen Richter!"
Silva threads the needle—timing perfect, pace ideal. Richter is through, one-on-one. Livaković charges out, shrinking ...
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