Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 104: Bleak Circumstances 2

Chapter 104: Bleak Circumstances 2

The home crowd groaned, some burying their faces in their hands while others tried to rally their team with chants of encouragement.

[It’s not over yet, but AZ Alkmaar have a mountain to climb now, especially with only ten men,] the co-commentator added, his tone tinged with sympathy.

As the Anzhi players celebrated near the corner flag, Zhirkov raised his arms to the traveling fans, his face alight with determination.

[What a moment for Zhirkov. That goal could be the difference,] the lead commentator said as the camera panned to the dejected faces of the AZ players.

The referee signaled for the restart, but the energy in the stadium had shifted.

[Can AZ Alkmaar find a way back into this? They’ve done it before, but this will take something special,] the co-commentator pondered.

Fweeeee!

The referee’s whistle blew, signaling the restart.

AZ Alkmaar, now down to ten men, faced an uphill battle. Their earlier momentum had vanished, replaced by frantic attempts to keep Anzhi Makhachkala at bay.

[The red card has completely turned this game on its head,] the lead commentator said, his voice grim. [AZ Alkmaar have no choice but to defend now—they’ve used up their substitutions, and Gertjan Verbeek can’t bring on fresh legs]

[It’s going to be a long final stretch for AZ Alkmaar,] the co-commentator replied. [Anzhi Makhachkala smell blood, and with the quality they have in their squad, you’d expect them to capitalize on this advantage]

The visitors pushed forward relentlessly, pinning AZ Alkmaar deep in their own half. The home side was effectively playing a half-field game, their defensive line barely stepping past the edge of the penalty area.

In the 77th minute, Willian found space on the right flank after receiving a pass from Shatov in midfiel.

He made a cut inside to evade Gorter’s outstretched legs and sprinted towards the byline with Gorter chasing behind him.

With a quick shift of his body, he sent a curling cross into the 18-yard box, with the intention of locating either Eto’o or Traoré.

The towering Ivorian forward rose above the AZ Alkmaar defenders who were tight on him, meeting the ball with a thunderous header. The crowd held their breath as it rocketed toward the top corner.

[Traoré’s there—this could be it!] the lead commentator exclaimed.

Alvarado, however, had other ideas. The AZ Alkmaar goalkeeper leapt acrobatically, stretching his left hand to tip the ball over the bar.

[What a save! Alvarado is keeping his team alive,] the co-commentator shouted, his admiration clear. [That was heading straight for the net!]

The resulting corner was cleared by Marcellis, but Anzhi Makhachkala came back with renewed vigor.

Gabulov, now a spectator in his own half, walked outside his 18-yard box while clapping and shouting instructions as his teammates continued to press.

In the 80th minute, Zhirkov found himself unmarked on the edge of the 18-yard box after a quick one-two with Jucilei. He let fly with a venomous left-footed strike.

[Zhirkov again—he’s looking for his second! It’s a rocket,] the lead commentator said, his voice rising.

The ball screamed toward the bottom corner, but Alvarado was equal to it, diving low to parry the shot wide.

The AZ Alkmaar fans roared their approval, their voices a mix of relief and desperate encouragement.

[Alvarado is having the game of his life. If AZ Alkmaar somehow hold on here, it’ll be because of him,] the co-commentator remarked.

The corner kick followed almost immediately, leaving AZ Alkmaar no time to reset properly.

Zhirkov jogged over to take it, his arm raised as he scanned the penalty box for movement.

The Anzhi Makhachkala players clustered together, then suddenly split in different directions, creating chaos among the AZ Alkmaar defenders.

[They’ve got a plan here,] the lead commentator observed, leaning forward.

Zhirkov delivered the corner with precision, an outswinger that curled dangerously toward the penalty spot.

Samba was the first to react, rising above his marker to meet the ball with a powerful header.

[There’s Chris Samba! He’s got his head to it!]

The ball thudded off his forehead and rocketed toward goal, but it wasn’t clean enough—it skidded low through the crowded box, deflecting off Henriksen’s outstretched leg.

[Deflected! This could be trouble!]

Chaos erupted in the six-yard box as players scrambled to clear the danger. The ball ricocheted wildly, bouncing off legs and bodies, a blur of red and yellow shirts battling for control.

Eto’o soon got a lucky sight of the ball, and pounced on the loose ball with a sharp turn and firing a low shot toward the near post.

[Eto’o! That’s on target!]

But Alvarado, somehow keeping his composure amidst the madness, he dropped low to block the shot with his outstretched arm.

The rebound spilled out to Willian, who attempted a quick follow-up, but Gorter lunged in with a last-ditch tackle, sending the ball skimming out of the box.

[Unbelievable defending from AZ Alkmaar! They’re throwing their bodies on the line,] the co-commentator said, his voice shaking with excitement.

The ball rolled to Elm, who, under intense pressure, hacked it clear, sending it high into the night sky. The home crowd erupted with cheers and applause, their relief palpable.

[And finally, they breathe! What a sequence,] the lead commentator exclaimed. [AZ Alkmaar are hanging on by a thread, but what heart they’re showing out there]

[This is what European nights are all about, isn’t it? Drama, passion, and sheer will to survive,] the co-commentator added, his tone filled with admiration.

The ball landed near the halfway line, where Anzhi Makhachkala regrouped quickly.

***

The tension in the stadium was unbearable as the minutes ticked by.

Every clearance, and every interception was met with thunderous applause from the home crowd.

By the 85th minute, AZ Alkmaar fans were practically praying to whoever for the match to end.

This time, it was Willian again with the buildup, darting past Beerens and Martens before slipping a clever pass to Eto’o, who had peeled away from his marker, Viergever, inside the 18-yard box.

Eto’o, with the composure of a seasoned veteran, chipped the ball over Alvarado.

[Oh no, this could be the decider!] the lead commentator cried.

But Viergever, sprinting back with everything he had, launched himself at the ball, clearing it off the line just inches before it crossed.

[Unbelievable! Viergever has saved them! That’s pure determination,] the co-commentator shouted, almost as breathless as the fans.

The AZ Alkmaar players were visibly exhausted, their faces etched with desperation as they fought to keep Anzhi Makhachkala at bay.

On the sidelines, Gertjan Verbeek shouted instructions, his voice hoarse, while Guus Hiddink gestured furiously, urging his team forward.

[Anzhi Makhachkala are throwing everything at this, but AZ Alkmaar are clinging on for dear life,] the lead commentator said. [It’s 2-1 on the night, 3-3 on aggregate. If it stays like this, we’re heading to extra time]

[But one goal could change everything, for either side,] the co-commentator added. [There’s still time—who’s going to step up and make the difference?]