As Mesut Özil trudged, head bowed, around the pitch at the end of it all in Baku it was pertinent to wonder what has become of him and where it all goes from here. He is the lost playmaker. His once proud joy in the assist, his once delicate ability to be the subtle architect of a game, has dwindled to the point where it is really worth revisiting a highlights reel from previous years to remember how – even with that idiosyncratic languid style which means he seldom looks keen for a battle – his gifts had so much more presence.
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