MLS
There are wins, and then there are postseason statements. On Monday night at TQL Stadium, FC Cincinnati made their intentions absurdly clear: this isn’t the “cute little regular-season success” version of FCC anymore. This is a team with scars, swagger, and a striker who treats game-winning goals like they’re punch cards at his favorite coffee shop.
Kévin. Freaking. Denkey.
One moment of cold-blooded precision in the 78th minute was all it took for the Orange & Blue to snatch Game 1 of the Round One Best-of-3 series, a 1–0 victory that puts them one win away from booting the defending MLS champs out of the playoffs and claiming Ohio bragging rights until further notice.
Welcome to the Audi 2025 MLS Cup Playoffs. Hell Is Real — but Cincinnati owns the thermostat right now.
You want vibes? Here’s a vibe: playoff Hell Is Real is chaos dipped in caffeine.
The opening hour was pure tension — every duel felt like an audition for a demolition derby. Cincinnati absorbed Columbus’ possession-hungry style (Crew had 52% of the ball) but refused to break. Pat Noonan’s back line was nastier than a late-night Skyline order: Miles Robinson commanding, Teenage Hadebe a brick wall, Nick Hagglund playing like a man who knows exactly what derby bragging rights mean in this city.
Columbus poked and prodded. Diego Rossi tried to make something happen. But everything the Crew did was met with “Nope.” Roman Celentano wasn’t in the mood for plot twists.
The match spent long stretches stuck at a knife’s edge, the type of scoreless stalemate where fans forget how to sit down and supporters’ sections collectively lose vocal cords. It wasn’t cagey — it was calculated violence.
Then Cincinnati punched first.
It started on the right flank, with Pavel Bucha and Evander cooking up the kind of combination play that makes tactics nerds treat themselves to a second monitor.
Evander slipped Ender Echenique into the box — yes, the rook went full NASCAR down the right lane — and his pass knifed through traffic to Alvas Powell at the back post. Powell, the most experienced playoff dude in the room, calmly squared it to Denkey…
One touch. Left foot. Net. Pandemonium.
Goal No. 18 across all comps this season. His first MLS playoff strike. His TENTH match-winner. The man collects decisive goals like they’re Pokémon. He has scored in his introduction to literally every competition FCC has entered this year — MLS, Champions Cup, and now the postseason.
Call it clinical. Call it clutch. Call it surgical murder of the Crew’s morale.
Whatever it was — it was the difference.
Let’s talk about the guy between the sticks.
Three straight clean sheets for Cincinnati. Eleven on the year. And for those counting at home? This was his fifth in MLS Cup postseason play — more than some entire franchises.
Celentano didn’t have to stand on his head, but the stops he made mattered. The positioning was flawless. The command of the box was CEO-level. He has now appeared in every playoff match Cincinnati has ever played, and if this team goes on a deep run? He’ll be a founding father of FCC playoff lore.
The Crew finished with just six shots — only three troubling Celentano.
That’s not a coincidence.
Cincinnati’s back line bullied Columbus into Plan B. Then Plan B became “hope something weird happens.” When Wilfried Nancy started rolling subs like he was spinning a slot machine — Gazdag, Aliyu, Russell-Rowe — the payout never came.
Meanwhile, Noonan’s bench rotation was just as strategic. Alvas Powell came on and immediately contributed to the goal sequence. Obinna Nwobodo injected late midfield steel. Kei Kamara entering the game gave us a historian’s delight — his seventh MLS playoff club, including past Crew lore — but more importantly, it helped ice the game.
This wasn’t just a win. It was a defensive thesis paper written in permanent marker.
Let’s get nerdy — briefly:
Cincy bent the ball to their will. The Crew bent the knee.
And if you appreciate narrative stats:
Imagine telling someone that in 2020. MLS is wild.
You could argue Powell’s back-post touch or Echenique’s fearless penetration was the turning point — and you’d be right. But the real pivot?
Cincinnati never let Columbus breathe again after the goal.
No panic bunkering. No sitting five deep and praying. They managed the game like veterans who have seen Final Four banners in their future. Calm, confident, “we do this now” energy.
That fourth-quarter… uh, fourth-quarter-equivalent? It was sponsored by professionalism.
There’s no avoiding it now:
Cincinnati is a trophy contender — not a mascot.
They are one win away from advancing and knocking out last year’s champs before November truly arrives. Their supporters — 23,371 strong Monday night — can practically smell Lowder.com Field panic from here.
Game 2: Sunday, 6:30 PM. Columbus, Ohio.
The Crew’s season now lives in the land of “if.”
The Orange & Blue? They’re hunting.
If Denkey keeps collecting game-winners like Infinity Stones… good luck to anyone standing in the way.
In a rivalry built on chaos and mutual disdain, Cincinnati delivered the kind of win that doesn’t just show up on a scoreboard — it echoes.
Hell is Real.
But Cincinnati is heavenly right now.
Columbus has five days to figure out an exorcism.
Because Denkey is coming. And he loves silencing stadiums.
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