Tonight, it all comes down to this.
In Bilbao, where legends are etched into stone, two fallen giants—Tottenham Hotspur and Manchester United—stand on the brink of redemption.
The Europa League final isn’t just silverware. It’s salvation. A ticket back to Champions League football. A reason for the season to matter.
Both teams crawl into this clash bruised. Spurs, dangling above the relegation zone in 17th. United, barely better in 16th. But for ninety minutes, the league table means nothing. In Europe, pride is reborn.
Ange Postecoglou has played his cards. Resting his stars against Aston Villa, he now rolls out his strongest eleven. Vicario returns in goal. Porro, Romero, Van de Ven, and Udogie form a backline built for war.
In midfield, Bissouma, Sarr, and Bentancur bring balance and bite. Up top, Johnson burns the right flank, Richarlison replaces Son on the left, and Solanke shoulders the weight of goals.
Across the dugout, Ruben Amorim sticks to his guns. One change from the Chelsea defeat. Leny Yoro slots into defence for Lindelof, joining Maguire and Shaw. Onana anchors the goal.
Mazraoui and Dorgu stretch the wings. Casemiro and Bruno Fernandes hold the core. Amad Diallo and Mason Mount get the nod to spark the attack behind Hojlund.
These are not perfect teams. These are desperate teams. And desperation creates drama.
It’s a final where hope trumps form. Where a single moment can rewrite the misery of a season.
Everything is at stake. And nothing is guaranteed.