The roar of the crowd was a physical force, a beautiful, deafening wave of pure joy.
I was on my feet, laughing and breathless as my teammates mobbed me, their ecstatic shouts a symphony in my ears.
The scoreboard, once a symbol of our struggle, now flashed 1-1, a testament to our comeback.
The high of the goal was short-lived, however. I had to focus. The game was far from over. As the players returned to their positions, a new determination settled over my teammates.
Lautaro Martínez, his eyes burning with renewed fire, clapped me on the back. "That's how it's done, Leon! We're not out of this yet!"
The next ten minutes leading up to halftime were a thrilling, back-and-forth battle.
The energy of my goal had breathed new life into Inter, and we started playing with a newfound confidence. My Vision was now a constant, reliable stream of information. I could see the symbols over every player, predicting their every move.
