Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 106: A Goal From Fantasy Island 2

Chapter 106: A Goal From Fantasy Island 2

[UNBELIEVABLE! ABSOLUTELY UNBELIEVABLE!] the lead commentator bellowed, his voice cracking. [Benjamin has just scored from over 75 yards out! That’s pure audacity!]

[That’s not just audacity, that’s insanity! But it worked! Oh, my word, what a goal!] the co-commentator added, his laughter bubbling over his words.

[Can you believe this?!] the lead commentator’s voice cracked, barely audible over the crowd’s roar. [Benjamin, from seventy-five yards out! It’s audacious, outrageous—absolutely incredible!]

The co-commentator was laughing, unable to contain himself. [He’s just broken physics! Forget tactics; forget logic! That’s pure instinct, pure genius from the 17 year old!]

Benjamin, still at the corner flag, grinned with unfiltered arrogance as he mimicked the same arrow-drawing celebration he had used in Dagestan during the first leg.

Back then, it had been a taunt—an act of defiance in the face of Anzhi Makhachkala’s dominance before his winner.

Now, it was a declaration of victory—for taking his team through to the Europa League group stages.

The away fans erupted in wild fury, hurling insults and jeers his way. Their rage only fueled Benjamin further, his smirk widening as he mimicked releasing the imaginary arrow, directing it toward them once more.

[Oh, he’s done it again! The same celebration he used to mock the home fans in Dagestan—what a story!] the lead commentator exclaimed, barely able to contain his amazement.

[And look at Gabulov! He’s furious! That’s going to sting for a long, long time,] the co-commentator added, his voice tinged with schadenfreude.

The camera panned to Gabulov, who stood near the goalpost, shaking his head in disbelief.

His arms were spread wide in frustration as he shouted at his teammates, his earlier confidence shattered.

On the touchline, Gertjan Verbeek’s hands flew to his head, his mouth hanging open in shock. He turned to his coaching staff, who were equally stunned.

He quickly got a hold of himself and punched the air, a rare display of emotion from the typically stoic manager. His assistants jumped into each other’s arms, shouting in celebration.

Meanwhile, in the opposite technical area, Guus Hiddink looked shell-shocked, his hands gripping the back of his head.

He threw his hands into the air, his frustration boiling over. He barked at his players, his voice drowned out by the roaring AZ Alkmaar fans.

The traveling Anzhi Makhachkala supporters slumped into their seats, their hands clutching their heads.

The camera panned to the players on the pitch. The Anzhi Makhachkala defenders stood rooted on the spot, staring at each other in disbelief, while Gabulov pounded the ground in frustration.

[That’s a dagger to the heart of Anzhi Makhachkala. They had this game in their control, and now its slipped away,] the co-commentator said, his tone laced with amazement.

Benjamin!~ Benjamin!~ Benjam...

The home crowd, still reeling from the audacious strike, broke into chants of Benjamin’s name, their voices booming across the stadium.

[This is what football is all about,] the lead commentator said, his voice softening as the replays rolled on the large screen.

The trajectory of the ball, Gabulov’s desperate dive, and Benjamin’s confident celebration all played back in slow motion.

[Moments like this, they’re why we love the game. Seventy-five yards out... That’s going to be replayed for years to come,] the co-commentator added, almost reverently.

The commentators could hardly keep up.

[We talked about moments of brilliance, moments of magic, and Benjamin has just delivered something out of a dream!] the lead commentator exclaimed.

[Forget a dream—that’s from a fantasy! How do you even think to try that?] the co-commentator responded.

Benjamin dropped to his knees, overwhelmed by the moment. His teammates rushed toward him, pulling him into a tight embrace and piling on in celebration.

The young forward raised his arms to the roaring fans, his face alight with confidence and pride.

He had silenced his soon-to-be critics, stunned the opposition, and etched his name into the annals of AZ Alkmaar’s history—all with one unforgettable strike.

The scoreboard flickered, updating to 2-2, and {4-3} on aggregate. The AZ Alkmaar fans found their voices again, their chants reverberating around the stadium.

[What a sudden twist! Anzhi Makhachkala’s hopes aren’t just over, they’ve been set ablaze by Benjamin’s goal!] the lead commentator shouted, his excitement infectious.

The co-commentator nodded in agreement, [With two additional minutes left on the clock, and 2 goals needed right now to qualify for the Europa League group stages, Anzhi Makhachkala can all but bid European football goodbye for this season!]

Benjamin, who now surrounded by his teammates, stood and pointed toward the home crowd, acknowledging their support with a small wave before his teammates dragged him into another jubilant embrace.

[Look at this kid. He’s soaking it all in, and why not? He’s earned this moment,] the lead commentator said warmly.

[But it’s not over yet,] the co-commentator interjected. [Two minutes remain until full-time. Can AZ Alkmaar hold their nerve?]

Fweeee!~

The referee blew his whistle and the players reset for the kickoff, but the energy in the stadium was unmistakable.

Anzhi Makhachkala looked desperate for a goal, their passes were hurried and their movements frantic.

[Anzhi Makhachkala need two goals in two minutes. It’s a mountain to climb,] the lead commentator said.

[Forget a mountain—they’re staring at Everest,] the co-commentator replied.

As the seconds ticked away, AZ Alkmaar’s players dropped deeper, throwing their bodies in front of every Anzhi Makhachkala attempt.

The fans, now fully invested, roared with every clearance, willing their team over the line.

Fweeee!~ Fweeeee!~ Fweeeeee!~

The final whistle blew...

The stadium erupted in a wave of euphoria. Benjamin collapsed onto the turf with his arms spread wide, as his teammates swarmed him.

[And there it is! AZ Alkmaar are through to the Europa League group stages!] the lead commentator shouted, his voice barely cutting through the noise. [Anzhi Makhachkala are out, and this night belongs to Benjamin!]

[What a story. What a moment for this 17-year-old,] the co-commentator added, his voice soft with admiration.

The cameras lingered on Benjamin as he was hoisted onto his teammates’ shoulders, his face a mix of exhaustion, relief, and uncontainable joy.