Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 184: Fifteen-up

Chapter 184: Fifteen-up

[It’s been a nightmare for them,] the co-commentator added. [They’ve been completely dismantled tonight, and they know it]

SC Veendam restarted play, knocking the ball around at the back, their movements slow and drained.

There was no urgency, no belief left in their play. Even their passes lacked conviction, some rolling just a bit too heavy, others played too softly, inviting AZ Alkmaar to press.

[They just want this over with,] Mike observed. [They’re keeping it safe, trying to run the clock down, but AZ Alkmaar aren’t letting them breathe]

Indeed, Fernando Lewis was already closing down the man on the ball, forcing a rushed clearance toward the halfway line.

Jonas Heymans stepped up, winning the aerial battle with ease and nodding it down to Haye, who took one touch before slipping it out wide to Berghuis.

[And here come AZ Alkmaar again,] the co-commentator said, his voice laced with amusement. [They’re still hungry for more!]

Berghuis surged forward, his legs still fresh despite the relentless pace of the game. He looked up and spotted Lewis making a darting run between two tired defenders.

[Fernando Lewis is making the run!] Mike’s voice lifted. [Can Berghuis find him?]

Berghuis swung in a first-time cross, the ball dipping and curling toward the penalty area.

Lewis sprinted onto it, his markers struggling to keep up. He stretched, just managing to get a glancing header on it, redirecting it toward the far post.

[Fernando Lewis with the header—]

The ball bounced just wide off the goal. A collective groan rippled through the home fans.

[Not far off at all,] the co-commentator said. [That was a tough one to execute, but he did well to even get there]

Lewis clapped his hands together in frustration before giving Berghuis a thumbs-up for the delivery.

Meanwhile, Nienhuis took his time retrieving the ball, every second he could waste feeling like a small victory at this point.

He placed it down and booted it long, hoping to relieve the pressure, but it barely reached the midfield before Adam rose to meet it with a powerful header.

[It’s coming straight back at them,] Mike noted. [SC Veendam just can’t get out of their own half!]

Adam’s header found Overtoom, who instantly flicked it to Benjamin. The young winger controlled it effortlessly, taking a moment to scan his options.

[Benjamin Rijkaard again, just pulling the strings,] the co-commentator said. [He’s been outstanding tonight]

Benjamin spotted Lewis peeling off his defender near the edge of the 18 yard box. He didn’t hesitate.

With a quick shift of his body, he threaded a perfectly weighted through-ball between two defenders, slicing open the backline.

[That’s a brilliant pass!] Mike exclaimed. [Lewis is in on goal!]

The crowd rose to their feet as Lewis powered toward the ball, his eyes locked onto the target.

Nienhuis rushed off his line, desperate to close the angle.

Lewis took one touch—then another—before striking it low and hard.

[Lewis shoots—]

A sharp deflection off the goalkeeper’s leg sent the ball spinning into the air, looping toward the far post.

[Oh, what a save! But is it over?]

Berghuis was already reacting, ghosting in at the back post as the ball dropped. He lunged—sticking out a boot—

—and the net bulged.

[It’s in! Steven Berghuis makes it fourteen! And that’s his second goal tonight]

GOOOAAAAALLLLLL!~

The AFAS Stadion erupted once more, the players mobbing Berghuis as he wheeled away in celebration.

[AZ Alkmaar are just ruthless,] the co-commentator said, shaking his head. [SC Veendam simply cannot stop the bleeding]

[And Benjamin Rijkaard? Yet another playmaking influence in the second half,] Mike added. [The kid is running the show tonight]

The scoreboard flickered again.

AZ Alkmaar 14 - 0 SC Veendam.

[This is one for the history books,] the co-commentator said. [And there’s still a few minutes left to play]

SC Veendam barely had time to gather themselves after the reset before AZ Alkmaar were on the hunt again.

The visitors restarted play, but their movements were sluggish, their confidence shattered. Each pass felt hesitant, and the weight of their collapse loomed over them.

[You can see it in their body language,] Mike noted. [They’re just hoping the final whistle comes sooner rather than later]

[And who can blame them?] the co-commentator replied. [AZ Alkmaar have been relentless. Every time they get forward, it looks like something’s going to happen]

As if on cue, Haye pressed high, forcing a mistimed pass straight to Adam. He wasted no time, knocking it forward to Benjamin, who was already scanning the pitch.

[And here they go again,] Mike said, his voice filled with anticipation. [Benjamin Rijkaard, pulling the strings in midfield once more]

Benjamin shifted the ball onto his left foot and saw Lewis making another darting run between the center-backs.

With a simple but precise touch, he lifted the ball over the top, dropping it perfectly into Lewis’s stride.

[That’s a beauty of a pass!] the co-commentator exclaimed. [Benjamin Rijkaard is putting on a clinic tonight!]

Lewis took the ball down effortlessly, his first touch immaculate. He charged into the 18 yard box, but just as he was about to shoot, Danny Menting came sliding in with a desperate challenge, poking the ball away at the last second.

[Great defending there,] Mike acknowledged. [That could have been fifteen!]

The clearance, however, only reached as far as Adam, who took a touch and lifted his head.

[AZ Alkmaar are still alive in this attack,] the co-commentator said. [SC Veendam just can’t catch a break]

Adam spotted Berghuis peeling off his marker near the penalty spot. With a quick shift of his hips, he sent a curling cross toward the right winger, who rose to meet it.

[Berghuis with the header—]

The connection was solid, the technique perfect, but Nienhuis threw himself across goal and managed to palm it away with his fingertips.

[What a save! Nienhuis denies Berghuis his hat-trick!] Mike shouted.

The rebound, however, fell straight to Lewis, lurking just outside the six-yard box.

[But wait—Fernando Lewis is there!]