A loveless marriage would soon end. Kylian Mbappe would, potentially, unite with his true love, Real Madrid; Paris Saint- Germain would seek its true path to footballing glory. The Mbappe-PSG wedlock, despite the ingredients for a long and successful bond, even a symbolic bond of romance – the boy from the banlieue of Bondy, the city’s grimy alley, at the heart of PSG renaissance – was always forced and inorganic. That it did not end bitterly — even if it threatened to, at times — is a mini-wonder in itself. For Mbappe, it was always Real Madrid – the love of his life. The group that fired up his imagination were always the galacticos. In his comic-strip autobiography Je M’Appelle Kylian, Zinedine Zidane and Cristiano Ronaldo visit him in a dream, and Zidane hands him out a sparkling-white kit of Real Madrid. He plays keepie-uppie with them. In school, when a teacher asks him about his best friends, he lists out the names Ronaldo, Zidane and Sergio Ramos. Later, in interviews, when probed on who …