Harry Kane is no stranger to waiting. After all, you don't spend your prime years at Tottenham without developing monk-like levels of patience. But this? This could test even his famously stoic resolve.

Yesterday, with Kane brooding in the stands, German league leaders Bayern Munich let a stoppage-time equaliser slip past them in a 3–3 draw with Leipzig, putting their title celebrations on hold. A winless Leverkusen tonight would still hand Bayern the crown early; if not, they'll be left waiting until May 10, needing just a point from their final two fixtures to wrap things up.

And Kane? Could he even stomach waiting another day, let alone another week to finally clinch that elusive first proper trophy?

After all, this was a man who'd come agonisingly close: runners-up with England at the last two European Championships, and so near yet so far in the 2019 Champions League final with Tottenham.

Football meets fiction: Doctor (Who?) prescribes Snanaghat trip

As the minutes crawled by, the English striker could hear the grass growing beneath his boots.

Just then, the unmistakable sound of the TARDIS filled the air.

Stepping out of the time-travelling blue police box was a version of the Doctor with the calm wisdom and quiet grace of Professor Dumbledore. 

"Harry," the Doctor said. "Waiting is hard. Especially for you English lads. But I think I know just the lesson you need."

And with that, they travelled back in time, to mid-March this year.

The TARDIS landed in a rural village called Snanaghat in Sylhet, Bangladesh. Here, the air was thick with excitement, not from the promise of another football match but from the overwhelming reception of Hamza Choudhury – the Sheffield United player who recently switched his national allegiance from England to Bangladesh.

The Doctor's voice broke through the moment: "You see, Harry, Hamza's journey didn't just take him to another football team – it took him to a place where he could surrender to the flow of life, much like how you have finally found your moment in Germany.

"In football, there are no rules – only stories."

Back in Munich, as the TARDIS disappeared into the dusk, Kane realised: waiting wasn't the enemy. It was the teacher. Whether the trophy came tonight or next week, the 31-year-old had made peace with the unpredictable beauty of the game.

And somewhere in the distance, he could have sworn he heard it again – the faint, familiar whir of something... timey-wimey.