England In World Cup Semifinal Jude Bellingham Goals Norway

Arm spread, eyes skywards, applause ringing in his ears, Jude Bellingham soaked in his glory, the exact moment when just another gifted footballer became a legend.

He pulled at his shirt by the badge, stepped aside after his teammates mobbed and kissed him, after his manager Thomas Tuchel leapt in joy and nearly reproduced the famous Jose Mourinho slide at Old Trafford with the feverish England supporters.

Bellingham, whose goals led England to a 2-1 win over Norway, raised his arms wide again. He was the hero; again, he was hero; the inevitable talisman of a schizophrenic contest that swung both ways in spells, before he bent the script to his indefatigable genius. England, like in past games, had looked broken, but they always had the unbroken spirit of Bellingham to lean on.

The match had trickled into extra time in the Miami microwave. Even 6000kcal-a-day Erling Haaland, Bellingham’s close friend, huffed when he sprinted. Everyone wanted a closure, and Bellingham relieved all with a knee-twisting finish.

The goal is best watched in frozen frames. When Morgan Rogers’ clanger from 18 yards dribbled out of Orjan Nyland’s clasp, defender Leo Ostigard seemed in control to heave the ball away from hazard. But from nowhere, like a phantom, Bellingham pounced in with a burst of explosion, and left his skull-marked stamps on the Norwegians and the game.

Speed disarrayed his balance, but the sheer will to reach the ball first triumphed over everything. He slithered in, along the right side of Ostigard and stabbed the ball past Nyland. The back leg was twisted, and he could have nearly injured himself. But all that Belligham saw, and cared about, was the ball, its potential path to the goal, the contortion his body had to suffer to meet the end.

The goal propelled England into the semifinal, and soar him into the rarefied space of an English great. Debates are non-existent—Bellingham in 2026 has turned on the most definitive performance by an English footballer since Paul Gascoigne in 1990. The end, Bellingham, would wish, won’t be as cruel.

The strike embodied his supreme intuition of a goal, but more than that, it revealed his force of personality, the raging but controlled fire that decides tournaments, the precise traits that England had longed for in their failed pursuits of the past.

“He is a leader,” his former Real Madrid manager Carlo Ancelotti purred when he was barely 20; “the oldest 19-year-old in the world,” his Borussia Dortmund manager Edin Terzic would apprise. Another manager, Lucien Favre, stressed his “playing intelligence”. “The ability to not only foresee a move, but plan and execute it. With someone like Bellingham, I don’t look at the date of birth. He has a feel for space.”

Space he saw, and space he made. The second one was the clincher, the one that would be remembered. But the first one was as consequential and unquestionably more aesthetic. Seconds before half time, England’s heads drooped, Tuchel looking battle-scarred.

Then, Anthony Gordon swept in a cross from the left, in the hope that someone would receive the ball. Belligham glided in, just ahead of the scarlet red markers in red, and cushioned the ball with a delightful first touch near the edge of the box. He took brisk strides. He briefly contemplated the third that could furnish him with balance, but saw the flying legs. So he swivelled away from the chasers and slashed his shot across the goal on the move, under Nyland’s left leg. Defender Tojborn Heggem ended up on his torso; Bellingham slipped and balanced himself with his left arm on the ground, like a gymnast’s handstand. His decision-making stood out as much as his technique.

The goal could not have been timelier. The pugnacious Norwegians were buzzing after Andreas Schjelderup’s swerving brute past a bemused Jordan Pickford, who withdrew his hands from the ball’s path, presuming it would elude the post. It didn’t, and England jittered. Declan Rice, substituted during the interval, suddenly looked ragged; the backline that had expertly kept Erling Haaland on a leash felt porous like a wall battered by a truck. England needed a hero, and Bellingham put on the heroic act.

It has been his World Cup, as much as it has been of Lionel Messi and Kylian Mbappe. He is clawing at their heels, with six goals in five outings. He is already England’s third-highest goal-scorer in World Cups, and he has exhibited the virtues of fight and bravado that English football values more than delirious gifts but a soft heart, tragic flaws that have snapped the nerves of probably more gifted footballers from his country. He dwelled on those in the post-match interactions: “Character … perseverance … even when things weren’t working, we found a way to win.” He was humble enough not to say “he found a way”, which wouldn’t have been an inaccurate self-appraisal either.

He was not just scoring goals, either. He induced three fouls, won seven duels, and was often the focal point of the English press that chained Haaland in the game’s early passages. At the end of the game, Tuchel almost felt irritated when asked about Bellingham’s influence. “Enough said him. He does it every single match, he is world class.”

The story of England in this World Cup has been the story of Bellingham. The former champions, uncrowned for six decades, looked wounded and beaten before Bellingham weaved his magic wand and turned them into winners. Mexico will tell the tale; the anguished Norway would approve. If England are to recreate 1966, they need more heroes. Maybe not. For, they have Bellingham and his sense of timing to influence matches.