Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 182: Red Card!

Chapter 182: Red Card!

The match restarted, but SC Veendam looked utterly drained.

Their passes were sluggish, and their movements hesitant—like a team simply waiting for the final whistle.

In contrast, AZ Alkmaar moved with the same hunger they had started with, their relentless press suffocating the opposition.

Benjamin, standing near the halfway line, read the next pass before it was even played. He darted forward, intercepting a weak low ball with ease before driving into space.

[Benjamin Rijkaard again,] Mike’s voice carried an edge of anticipation. [He’s everywhere tonight!]

He took a quick touch to steady himself before rolling the ball out wide to Adam, who instantly laid it off to Overtoom.

The tempo was sharp—one touch or two touches at most.

[Look at this passing sequence,] the co-commentator murmured. [AZ Alkmaar are just toying with them now]

The ball moved like clockwork—Adam, to Haye, back to Overtoom, out wide to Berghuis, up front to Lewis and then back to Benjamin.

Every touch was clean, crisp. The SC Veendam players chased shadows for a good few minutes.

Twenty passes...

Thirty... Thirty-five passes...

SC Veendam couldn’t get close.

[This is unbelievable,] Mike said, his voice rising with each completed pass. [They haven’t lost possession in over two minutes!]

Forty-five...

Then, the attack began.

Benjamin, who had been drifting along the left channel, took a sharp turn inward. The ball found him again, and this time, he didn’t hesitate.

A quick feint sent his marker off balance before he slipped a perfectly weighted squared ball across the 18 yard box.

[Oh, what a ball!] the co-commentator gasped. [Benjamin squares it!]

The pass found Berghuis, arriving at full speed near the penalty spot. He struck it first-time but slightly higher up his shin, hammering the ball toward goal.

THWACK!

The shot rocketed past the goalkeeper, smashing the underside of the crossbar with a deafening crack.

The stadium held its breath...

The ball bounced downward, kissing the goal line before spinning back into play.

[Did it cross the line?!] Mike shouted, his voice laced with excitement. [That was inches away!]

Leonard Nienhuis scrambled to punch it clear, just before Lewis could pounce.

[No goal! The referee waves play on!] the co-commentator confirmed. [But my word, that was close!]

The replay flashed on the big screen, showing the ball slamming off the bar in slow motion.

[Look at that strike from Berghuis,] Mike marveled. [The technique, the precision—just an inch lower, and that’s a goal]

[And what about the build-up?] his partner added. [Forty-five passes uninterrupted! That’s football at its finest]

Berghuis ran his hands through his hair, frustration clear on his face, but the AZ Alkmaar fans roared in appreciation. They knew they were witnessing something special.

[They might not have scored there,] Mike said, [but this AZ Alkmaar side are putting on a show tonight]

The game restarted with a throw-in for SC Veendam but the ball ended up being snatched by a ghostly Haye.

The near goal had sent a fresh wave of urgency through AZ Alkmaar, and they pressed high up the pitch, hunting for the icings on the cake.

Jeroen Ketting, who was already on a yellow, tried to calm things down with a sideways pass, but his touch was heavy. In an instant, Berghuis pounced, nicking the ball away and darting into open space.

[Oh, that’s poor from Jeroen Ketting,] Mike said, his voice rising. [And here come AZ Alkmaar again!]

Berghuis surged forward, his pace eating up the yards as he drove toward the final third. SC Veendam scrambled back, but their defensive line was in disarray.

Haye sprinted in support on the right, Lewis on the left, both pulling defenders with them.

[Look at the movement,] the co-commentator noted. [AZ Alkmaar are stretching them apart!]

Berghuis took another touch, angling himself toward goal. The crowd’s noise swelled, anticipation crackling in the air.

But just as he shaped to cut inside, Ketting lunged in from behind for a desperate challenge—a reckless challenge.

Berghuis barely had time to react before Ketting’s leg swept across his shin, sending him tumbling to the ground. The whistle shrieked.

Fweeee!

[That’s a late one! That’s a bad one!] Mike exclaimed. [And it’s from Jeroen Ketting—he’s already on a yellow!]

The AZ Alkmaar players immediately turned to the referee with their arms raised in protest.

Berghuis rolled on the turf, clutching his shin, while Jeroen Ketting threw his hands up, pleading his case.

But the referee wasn’t interested. He was already reaching for his pocket.

[This is trouble,] the co-commentator said. [He’s gone, surely?]

A flash of yellow...

Then red.

The crowd erupted as the referee brandished the second yellow card, then pointed toward the tunnel.

[Jeroen Ketting’s off! SC Veendam are down to ten men!] Mike shouted. [And honestly, he can’t have too many complaints about that one]

The replay played on the big screen, showing the moment Ketting’s foot caught Berghuis mid-stride. It wasn’t malicious, but it was clumsy.

[It’s a clear yellow card,] the co-commentator said, shaking his head. [He mistimed it completely, and in that position, 30 yards from goal, he had no reason to dive in like that]

Ketting stood frozen for a moment, then ran both hands through his hair, exhaling sharply.

The realization sank in. His night was over—but on the brighter side, he wouldn’t be around to witness the horrorful end of this despair inducing game.

[And let’s not forget,] Mike added. [His first yellow came from that late challenge on Benjamin early this second half. He’s been playing on the edge, and now he’s paid the price]

Ketting slowly turned toward the touchline, trudging off as the AZ Alkmaar fans jeered. His teammates watched him go, frustration written all over their faces.

[This is a nightmare for SC Veendam,] the co-commentator sighed. [They were already struggling, and now they’re down a man with thirteen minutes still to play]

Berghuis was back on his feet, shaking off the impact, while Benjamin lined up over the free kick from 30 yards out.

[And now, AZ Alkmaar have an even bigger advantage,] Mike said, as the tension crackled. [Can they finally add to their tally?]