Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 183: Penalty!

Chapter 183: Penalty!

The players lined up within the 18-yard box, jostling for position as Benjamin placed the ball down for the indirect free kick. His eyes scanned the chaos in the penalty area, searching for the perfect target.

[Big moment here for AZ Alkmaar,] Mike said, his voice steady with anticipation. [They’ve been knocking on the door this past few minutes for the thirteenth goal—could this be the breakthrough?]

[Benjamin Rijkaard over the ball,] the co-commentator noted. [We know he’s got the delivery. The question is—can someone get on the end of it?]

The referee gave a sharp blast of his whistle.

Fweeeee!

Benjamin took a deep breath, then swung his right foot through the ball, sending a curling cross toward the near post.

The delivery was inch-perfect, bending wickedly through the air as the AZ Alkmaar players surged forward.

Fernando Lewis timed his run to perfection, rising above his marker with his eyes locked on the ball. He was about to make contact when—yank! His momentum jerked backward as Freerk Mulder grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

Fweeeee!

The referee’s whistle pierced the air. Without hesitation, he pointed straight to the penalty spot.

[PENALTY! The referee’s given it!] Mike shouted, his voice barely carrying over the eruption of cheers and protests. [Freerk Mulder pulled on Lewis’s shirt, and the referee didn’t hesitate!]

[You can’t do that inside the 18 yard box,] the co-commentator said firmly. [That’s as blatant as it gets]

The SC Veendam players swarmed the referee, their arms waving in protest. Mulder led the charge, shaking his head furiously as he pleaded his case.

[They’re not happy about it,] Mike noted, watching the scene unfold. [But let’s be honest—there’s no argument here. He had his hands all over Lewis!]

[And look at the replay,] his partner added. [Lewis was ready to head that in! Mulder knew he was beaten, and he panicked]

The big screen showed the moment in slow motion—Lewis rising, Mulder’s grip tightening, the clear tug on the shirt.

The AZ Alkmaar players surrounded Lewis, patting him on the back as the SC Veendam players continued to argue.

The referee had heard enough. With a stern look, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a yellow card, holding it up for Mulder to see.

[And there’s the booking,] Mike confirmed. [Mulder’s been punished for his mistake]

Mulder sighed, running a hand through his hair before stomping away. He knew there was no point in arguing any further.

Meanwhile, Benjamin picked up the ball and walked toward the penalty spot. The AZ Alkmaar fans roared in anticipation, sensing the moment that could put the game to bed.

[It looks like Benjamin Rijkaard is stepping up,] the co-commentator said. [He’s been outstanding tonight—can he cap it off with a fourth goal?]

Benjamin stood over the ball, his fingers gripping it lightly as the crowd buzzed with anticipation.

The moment was his if he wanted it. As the team’s second penalty taker after Altidore, it was expected that he’d step up.

But instead of placing the ball down, he turned, glancing toward Berghuis. Without hesitation, he held the ball out, gesturing toward his teammate.

[Wait a minute,] Mike said, caught slightly off guard. [Benjamin’s giving this one to Berghuis?]

Berghuis blinked in surprise, then quickly nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached out and took the ball, his appreciation evident in the way he gave Benjamin a quick pat on the shoulder.

[That’s a classy gesture,] the co-commentator noted. [Benjamin Rijkaard could’ve taken it himself and add to his tally for the night, but he’s letting Berghuis step up instead]

[And look at Berghuis’s reaction,] Mike added. [You can tell he appreciates that. This could be a big confidence booster for the 21 year old]

Berghuis took a deep breath, rolling the ball under his palm before setting it down on the spot.

The SC Veendam goalkeeper, Leonard Nienhuis, bounced lightly on his toes, his eyes locked onto the ball.

The tension inside the stadium thickened. Berghuis took a few steps back, shaking his arms loose as he prepared for the kick.

[Here we go,] Mike said, his voice lowering. [Berghuis from the spot—can he convert?]

The referee took a step back, his whistle pressed to his lips. A sharp blast cut through the air.

Fweeeee!

Berghuis moved forward with purpose, his steps measured, and his focus unshaken.

Leonard Nienhuis tensed on his line, shifting his weight ever so slightly to the right, trying to read the taker’s intent.

[Berghuis steps up...] Mike’s voice carried the anticipation.

A short stutter in his run-up, a subtle shift in balance—and then the strike. The ball curled effortlessly into the bottom-left corner, sending Nienhuis the wrong way.

[And he scores!] Mike’s excitement burst through. [Berghuis slots it home with ease!]

[Cool as you like,] his co-commentator chimed in. [Leonard Nienhuis had no chance with that one]

The net rippled, the scoreboard flickered, and the stadium erupted.

AZ Alkmaar 13 - 0 SC Veendam.

Berghuis jogged toward the corner flag, a grin breaking across his face as his teammates swarmed him. Benjamin was the first to reach him, giving him a firm pat on the back.

[That’s his first of the night,] Mike noted. [And look at that—his teammates are just as happy for him as he is]

[You love to see that kind of camaraderie,] his partner added. [Benjamin could’ve taken it, but he wanted Berghuis to get on the scoresheet. That’s a team player right there]

As the celebrations settled, Berghuis glanced up at the scoreboard, shaking his head slightly as if the number staring back at him was too surreal to process.

[13-0, Mike. Just let that sink in,] the co-commentator said with a chuckle. [This is turning into an absolute demolition]

[It already is,] Mike replied. [And with the way AZ Alkmaar are playing, you wouldn’t bet against them adding a few more before full-time in ten minutes time]

Fweeeee!~

The referee signaled for play to resume, but the energy in the stadium didn’t die down.

The home fans were loving every second of it, chanting louder, urging their team forward.

But such couldn’t be said for the away supporters as the AFAS Stadion was currently void of over 90% of them.

[SC Veendam will just be hoping to hear the final whistle at this point,] Mike said.