Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 147: PSV Pull Level

Chapter 147: PSV Pull Level

Meanwhile, Dries Mertens picked up the ball, cradling it under his arm as he walked toward the penalty spot. His expression was calm, his focus unshaken by the surrounding noise.

The AZ Alkmaar players finally dispersed, their protests turning into determined glances as they regrouped to prepare for the shot.

[All eyes on Dries Mertens now,] Mike said, his tone dropping to a dramatic hush. [This is his chance to level the scoreline. Can he keep his nerve?]

The crowd swelled with anticipation, the tension in the stadium almost tangible. Mertens placed the ball carefully, taking a few steps back as Alvarado crouched low on his line, his arms outstretched.

[The pressure couldn’t be higher,] the co-commentator added. [This could be the defining moment of the match]

Fweeee!

The referee blew his whistle, and the stadium seemed to hold its breath.

Mertens began his run-up, his strides deliberate and measured. Alvarado bounced on his toes, his eyes locked onto the ball.

[Mertens steps up—]

Mertens struck the ball cleanly, sending it low and hard toward the bottom right corner. Alvarado dived full stretch, his fingertips grazing the ball—but not enough.

[And it’s in! Dries Mertens scores!] Mike’s voice exploded as the ball hit the back of the net. [PSV level things up in the 42nd minute, and the Philips Stadion erupts!]

GOOAAALLLLL!~

The home crowd roared with delight as Mertens sprinted toward the corner flag, his arms outstretched in celebration. His teammates swarmed him, their joy evident as they jumped and shouted.

[Cool as you like from Dries Mertens,] the co-commentator said. [Alvarado got close, but the precision on that shot was perfect]

On the other side of the pitch, the AZ Alkmaar players stood in disbelief. Alvarado punched the ground in frustration before getting to his feet, shaking his head as he gestured at his defenders.

[Heartbreak for AZ Alkmaar,] Mike said. [They’ve worked so hard, but now they’re level on 1-1. How will they respond?]

The game restarted, the AZ Alkmaar players eager to get ahead as the clock continued to tick towards halftime.

The match had reached a boiling point, and it was clear that the next moments would define everything.

AZ Alkmaar wasted no time pushing forward with the intention to pull one ahead of their opponents before the halftime break.

The frustration of conceding had lit a fire under them, and the players moved with renewed urgency.

Berghuis darted down the right flank, his feet dancing over the ball as he looked for an opening to create something for his teammates.

[AZ Alkmaar are responding just how you’d expect,] Mike said, his voice buzzing with excitement. [They’re not sitting back to end the first-half with a draw—they’re going for the win]

[Exactly, Mike,] the co-commentator chimed in. [They know the importance of striking back quickly. Momentum can change in a flash]

Berghuis cut inside, shrugging off Willems with a deft move before threading a pass to Henriksen who had opened up space in the middle of the park.

The midfielder let it run through his legs, allowing Elm to step in and take control of the ball. With a quick glance up, Elm spotted Benjamin hovering just outside the 18 yard box, unmarked.

[Adam finds Benjamin in space,] Mike called out, his tone rising. [The youngster’s got a chance here!]

Benjamin’s first touch to control the ball was clean, setting the ball perfectly in front of him. He didn’t hesitate, winding up for a strike from distance. His body leaned into the shot, and the connection was thunderous.

[Benjamin goes for goal!]

The ball rocketed off his boot in a blur of white slicing through the air. Waterman barely had time to react as it swerved toward the top corner.

[What a hit! This could be something special—]

CLANG!!!

The ball smacked against the inside of the left post, ricocheted across the goal line, and then struck the opposite post before bouncing back into play.

The crowd gasped collectively, the sound echoing like a wave.

[Off both posts... Again! That’s the second time its happened] Mike shouted, almost leaping from his seat. [Can you believe that? It’s still in play!]

Bouma was the quickest to react, lunging forward to clear the danger with a powerful boot that sent the ball flying out for a corner.

The AZ Alkmaar fans groaned in disbelief, their cheers of anticipation turning into exasperated sighs.

[Unbelievable,] the co-commentator said, his voice tinged with amazement. [That was inches away from being a goal of the season contender. Benjamin couldn’t have struck that any better, he seems to be out of luck tonight]

[The technique, the power—it had everything needed,] Mike added. [But sometimes, the posts just aren’t your friend]

Benjamin stood frozen near the edge of the box with his hands on his head as he stared at the goal. His teammates rushed over, patting him on the back and urging him to keep going.

[He’ll be gutted,] the co-commentator remarked. [But he’s showing exactly why he’s such an exciting talent. That’s his second attempt of the night, and look how close he came]

As the corner kick was prepared, the energy in the stadium reached another level.

The AZ Alkmaar players were undeterred, crowding the penalty area as Henriksen jogged to the flag to take the set piece.

[This match has had everything so far,] Mike said, shaking his head. [And we’re not even at halftime. Buckle up, folks—this one’s far from over]

Henriksen placed the ball at the corner flag, his face a picture of concentration as he glanced at the crowded penalty box.

Altidore, Martens, Viergever and Marcellis jostled for position, each determined to outmuscle their markers.

Waterman barked orders at his defenders, his gloves raised as he scanned the chaos in front of him.

[Here comes the corner,] Mike said, leaning forward. [AZ Alkmaar won’t want to waste this opportunity after coming so close moments ago]

Henriksen raised his arm, signaling his teammates before delivering a wicked, inswinging cross.

The ball curled menacingly toward the near post, where Altidore threw himself into the mix, rising above Bouma with sheer determination.

[Altidore’s up for it!] Mike shouted. [Can he connect?]