After the whistle blew for half-time, Kylian Mbappé ran to the player tunnel at a good clip, followed by Ousmane Dembélé. Behind them, the rest of the French team were in no such hurry, sauntering off the pitch. The forward widely considered the best in the world – or at least the most famous in the Non-Ronaldo-and-Messi Division – and the reigning Ballon d’Or winner had much to discuss.

The scoreless first half Tuesday against a Senegal side who had organized and pressed cohesively and forged much the better chances, including a clipped post, was a disjointed mess for the 2018 World Cup champions and the 2022 runners-up. But having the world’s best corps of forwards means getting to comprehensively beat the (former) African champions 3-1 despite spending the first hour looking like your front four had never played together before. And possibly didn’t even know one another’s names.

Because France have Mbappé. And Dembélé. And Michael Olise.

It seemed there was little connective tissue holding the French attack together in the first half. Olise roamed every which way from his right flank, once nearly traveling to the other touch line just to get involved in the play, but couldn’t figure out how to affect the game. Désiré Doué hardly factored on the left. And then there was the slapstick series of misunderstandings between Dembélé, playing in the pocket, and Mbappé up front.

The latter was nearly sprung in the fourth minute, served by Adrien Rabiot – French manager Didier Deschamps’ longtime and much-maligned pet playmaker. Mbappé received the ball with his right ass cheek, which evidently lacked the suppleness of his feet. He exchanged several hopeful balls with Dembélé, but their partnership never quite seemed to produce any real peril for the Senegalese defense, which enjoyed a pleasant afternoon of casual work on a sunny day that was neither hot nor humid.

Olise, sticking to the right for once, eviscerated El Hadji Malick Diouf late in the first half and set off into the vacant corridor. He and Mbappé seemed to lock eyes but never entirely worked out who was going where. Nothing was working.

Mbappé and Dembélé, the main protagonists up the middle, were having a very miserable time, gesticulating at one another, willing the other to just read their minds already. The French looked every bit like a team with an innately defensive manager who had set up his attackers in positions or roles they don’t play for their clubs. They were a collective in search of ideas and solutions, aware that they were far too good to look this bad.

And yet. The Senegalese pressed and cut right through the French lines to create several good chances. Nicolas Jackson’s shot off Mike Maignan’s near post followed an Mbappé turnover upfield. When Mbappé lost the ball yet again on a hideous turnover, a French journalist in the press box could no longer contain himself. “Oh la la la la la laaah,” he moaned. Really.

What’s the French word for ennui?

“From time to time, you do have a rough start,” Deschamps said. “It’s quite hard to meet the high expectation at a World Cup.”

Whatever message was delivered at the intermission worked. So too did switching Olise to the middle and Dembélé to the right. Deschamps’ men dialed up their intensity and finally managed to slip the right sprockets into the correct gears around the hour mark.

Olise was denied by Senegal keeper Édouard Mendy. So was Mbappé. And Sadio Mané was spared what seemed a stone-cold penalty kick on Mbappé, when even the assistance of VAR could not convince referee Alireza Faghani to make the right call.

No matter. In the 64th minute, Olise spun into space centrally and rolled a beautiful through ball against the grain for Mbappé, who couldn’t quite get a toe to it. Nonetheless, they had found another at last. Proof of concept.

Two minutes later, the two connected for much the same play. Mbappé made a run across goal and Olise found him with a splendid diagonal pass, paced and placed just so. Mbappé slotted past Mendy. The goal equalled Olivier Giroud’s all-time France scoring record at 57.

After a smashed finish from Jackson was ruled offside, Rabiot scampered into the vacant midfield on a break in the 82nd minute and sent Bradley Barcola, fresh on to the pitch for Dembélé, through on goal and the substitute finished with a delicate chip.

The 18-year-old Ibrahim Mbaye blasted Senegal on to the scoreboard, but Olise and Mbappé had one final treat for the 82,000 congregants in New Jersey. At the death, Olise fought through a Senegalese scrum and fed Mbappé up the middle about 30 yards from goal.

And then Mbappé did the sort of thing that makes a nation pin its hopes on you, that moves children to beg their parents for your jersey, that compels a manager to leave you on the field even when you’ve had an objectively ugly game. He turned and, without any questioning or compunction about the propriety of even trying such a thing, unloosed a shot that swerved past Mendy. Fifty-eight international goals. 3-1.

“He told me that he didn’t want to strike in a friendly match but wanted to score in a real match,” Deschamps joked about Mbappé’s record-setting goals. “He wanted to do it here.”

No Frenchman on the field will remember this game as one of their best. Senegal, meanwhile, were good. Very good at times. And still. Mbappé. And Olise. Also Dembélé. The sorts of players who give their side, and themselves, a vast margin for error.

“Kylian was efficient, ruthlessly efficient,” Deschamps said. “People will still criticize him. He’s an iconic player, I’ve always said that. He can sometimes miss a game but on one action he can really tip the scales.”

There were smiles and hugs now. Mbappé led Les Bleus to the sea of French fans to thank them for their support. The first-half grimaces, all the poor touches, the passes played to the wrong foot, the routes misread, the signals crossed, all of it long forgotten.

The French would be just fine. Because they have, well, all of them.