The list of people who had let Cristiano Ronaldo down was, by the end, a long and illustrious one.
Their transgressions had varied, in both nature and severity, and so had their punishments: Diogo Jota, failure to pass, hard stare; Renato Sanches, not getting out of the way of a free kick, baleful finger-point; Bruno Fernandes, speculative and wildly inaccurate shooting not entirely unfamiliar to Ronaldo himself, primal scream into Seville’s stifling night sky.
Ronaldo, in his defense, had much to complain about. Portugal was in the process of surrendering the European crown it had scrapped and scrambled to win in France five years ago with hardly a whimper, meekly exiting the competition in the first knockout round with a 1-0 defeat to a surprisingly fragile Belgium team, and none of his teammates were beyond reproach.