Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 105: A Goal From Fantasy Island 1

Chapter 105: A Goal From Fantasy Island 1

The clock ticked into the 89th minute, and the air in the AFAS Stadion was thick with tension.

AZ Alkmaar’s backline was stretched thin, and their legs felt heavy, but their resolve was unbroken.

Anzhi Makhachkala, sensing the moment of fatigue drawing in, launched another wave of attack.

Zhirkov, who was still full of energy, darted down the left flank, skipping past Elm with a deft touch before cutting inside.

He spotted Eto’o making a clever run into the box and delivered a through pass, slicing through the AZ Alkmaar defense like a knife through butter.

[Eto’o’s in! He’s got space! This is dangerous,] the lead commentator exclaimed, his voice climbing.

Eto’o controlled the ball effortlessly with his back to goal. Marcellis closed in to disrupt his next move, but the Cameroonian forward spun away with a quick turn, opening up a sliver of space.

[Vintage Eto’o right there! Can he finish this?]

He unleashed a low, venomous shot aimed for the bottom corner. Alvarado, reacting purely on instinct, dived to his left, his fingertips brushing the ball just enough to deflect it onto the post.

CLANG!

[Saved by the post! Alvarado, once again, keeps AZ Alkmaar alive,] the co-commentator marveled, his voice trembling with excitement.

The ball ricocheted back into play, where Traoré lunged at the rebound. But Johansson, throwing his body into the fray, managed to poke it away just in time, sending it out for a corner.

[Incredible scenes! AZ Alkmaar are living on the edge here,] the lead commentator said, barely able to contain his astonishment.

As the players reset for the corner, the fourth official stepped to the sideline with his board raised high.

[Three minutes of added time! Three more minutes for AZ Alkmaar to hold on before extra-time,] the co-commentator announced, his voice filled with anticipation.

The corner was taken quickly, Zhirkov whipping it toward the near post. Samba, towering above everyone, rose to meet it, his header powering toward goal.

[Here comes Samba! It’s a bullet—]

But Alvarado, once again the hero, reacted with lightning speed, punching the ball clear with both fists.

[Alvarado! He’s been nothing short of sensational tonight,] the co-commentator shouted, his admiration unrestrained.

The ball bounced out to Willian at the edge of the box. He wound up for a thunderous strike, but Beerens, charging at full speed, threw himself in the way.

The ball ricocheted off his chest and rolling forward where Benjamin stood poised to retrieve the loose ball.

[This is unbelievable commitment from AZ Alkmaar. They’re giving absolutely everything,] the lead commentator said, his voice a mix of awe and exhaustion.

Benjamin had been like a shadow in the game, almost nonexistent and lurking quietly upfield as Gertjan Verbeek’s lone forward while his teammates defended valiantly.

With every Anzhi Makhachkala attack, he waited upfront while observing for any lucky loose ball or intentional pass from one of his teammates.

He had almost given up after he saw the fourth official raise the board for added time. And then, it came—the opportunity he’d been waiting for.

The ball, knocked loose from Willian’s ambitious strike, rolled awkwardly toward him near the 18-yard box.

Benjamin reacted instantly, snatching it away from the scrambling Anzhi Makhachkala players.

He turned on his heel with his body coiling like a spring, and started sprinting forward. But as his eyes swept across the pitch, they caught something—a moment of opportunity... or, maybe not...

Gabulov, the Anzhi goalkeeper, was currently outside his penalty area, gesturing to the fans in the stands, seemingly in a good mood and unaware of the looming danger.

Benjamin hesitated for the briefest of seconds, his intrusive thoughts raging. Should he drive forward into the empty space ahead or gamble on a shot from where he stood?

The question repeatedly echoed in his head during that split moment, and then, the decision came in a heartbeat.

His muscles tensed as he planted his left foot firmly into the turf. With raw determination, he swung his right leg back and launched it forward with brutal force.

TWACK!!!

The sound reverberated through the stadium like a gunshot, silencing the crowd. The ball soared high, spinning furiously as it cut through the night sky.

[What’s he doing?! From there?!] the lead commentator shouted, disbelief lacing his words.

[That’s got to be over 75 yards out! This is madness!] the co-commentator exclaimed.

Gabulov’s head snapped around as he realized the danger too late. Panic flashed across his face.

He turned and sprinted desperately back toward his goal, his arms flailing as he tried to make up the ground.

The ball seemed to hang in the air for an eternity, its trajectory defying belief.

The home crowd, the away supporters, the players, and even the managers on the touchline froze, their eyes glued to the flight of the ball.

Then it dipped...

Gracefully, cruelly, it dipped...

Gabulov leapt, his fingertips stretching in vain. The ball sailed over him, grazing the crossbar ever so slightly before crashing into the back of the net.

GOOAAAALLLLLL!!!~

The stadium erupted in chaos.

The AZ Alkmaar fans roared with unrestrained joy, their disbelief giving way to jubilation.

Benjamin stood frozen for a moment, his chest heaving, before sprinting toward the corner flag and sliding with his hand drawing an imaginary arrow from behind, nocking, and shooting in the direction of the away fans.

The reaction of the fans was instant and charged with energy.

The Anzhi Makhachkala fans in the section facing the celebrating Benjamin were stunned into silence, their faces etched with disbelief.

Many had leapt to their feet when they saw Gabulov sprinting back, only to slump down as the ball dipped into the net. A few buried their heads in their hands, unable to process what had just happened.

On the other hand, the AZ Alkmaar faithful were delirious. The stands exploded in a cacophony of cheers and screams, fans hugging strangers and punching the air in sheer elation.

Some waved scarves wildly, while others pounded on the advertising boards, their voices hoarse from celebration.