Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 185: A Gaping Miss!

Chapter 185: A Gaping Miss!

[But wait—Fernando Lewis is there!]

The striker reacted instantly, driving his laces through the ball before anyone could close him down.

[Lewis strikes—]

The net rippled violently.

GOOOOAAAAALLLLLL!!~

The AFAS Stadion exploded once more, the home fans roaring as Lewis jogged toward the corner flag with his arms outstretched.

[Fernando Lewis gets his first goal in AZ Alkmaar shirt! AZ Alkmaar make it fifteen! They’ve broken the highest goal tally in a KNVB Beker match]

[And look at the SC Veendam players,] the co-commentator added. [They’re absolutely crushed]

The scoreboard updated yet again.

AZ Alkmaar 15 - 0 SC Veendam.

[This is simply unbelievable,] Mike said, shaking his head. [I don’t think anyone saw a scoreline like this coming]

The camera panned to the AZ Alkmaar bench, where even Gertjan Verbeek couldn’t help but grin at the spectacle unfolding before him.

The players on the sidelines clapped, some shaking their heads in disbelief at their team’s dominance.

[And look at Benjamin Rijkaard again,] the co-commentator pointed out. [Another key pass leading to a goal. This kid is having a night to remember]

[It’s not just him, though,] Mike added. [This entire AZ Alkmaar team has been ruthless. They’ve sent a message tonight. And with a few minutes left, you wouldn’t bet against them adding another]

The game resumed, but SC Veendam’s players moved like ghosts. Their bodies were physically on the pitch but their minds elsewhere.

The visitors attempted to hold possession, knocking it around at the back, but there was no conviction in their play. Every pass felt nervous, every movement hesitant.

[They’re in survival mode now,] Mike noted. [Just trying to avoid any further embarrassment]

[Can you blame them?] his partner added. [They’ve been battered from start to finish. But AZ Alkmaar? They don’t look like they’re done yet]

And they weren’t.

A loose touch from Danny Menting invited pressure, and Overtoom was the first to pounce. He lunged in, toe-poking the ball toward Haye, who quickly fed it out wide to Berghuis.

[And here come AZ Alkmaar again,] Mike’s voice lifted. [Berghuis—so dangerous on that right wing!]

Berghuis didn’t hesitate. With one quick drop of his shoulder, he skipped past his marker and burst down the flank. The crowd roared as he surged forward, his pace relentless.

[He’s got space to work with,] the co-commentator noted. [And look at the movement in the 18 yard box—this could be trouble for SC Veendam]

Inside the penalty area, Adam made a darting near-post run, dragging a defender with him. Benjamin hovered centrally, waiting for the cutback. But it was Fernando Lewis, ghosting in unmarked at the far post, who caught Berghuis’s attention.

[Fernando Lewis is free at the back post!] Mike shouted. [Berghuis sees him!]

With pinpoint accuracy, Berghuis whipped a low, driven cross across the face of goal. The ball skipped just past the outstretched boot of Benjamin and arrived perfectly at Lewis’s feet.

The goal was gaping enticingly...

Lewis swung his right foot, ready to tap it home.

[Surely—Lewis!]

But the connection was poor.

Instead of guiding it into the net, the ball took an awkward bounce off his shin and skidded wide of the post.

Gasps filled the AFAS Stadion.

[Oh no!] Mike groaned. [How has he missed that?]

[Lewis won’t want to see that again,] the co-commentator chuckled. [That was the easiest chance of the night!]

Lewis stood frozen, hands on his head, and his face twisted in disbelief. Berghuis, who had already started celebrating, turned back with a wry smile, shaking his head.

[Lewis knows it,] Mike continued. [He should be on the scoresheet right now.]

On the sidelines, Gertjan Verbeek clapped his hands, signaling for his players to stay focused.

Meanwhile, SC Veendam’s players exhaled in relief. Though it didn’t matter if they conceded again, fifteen sounded a bit better than sixteen to their ears.

Nienhuis quickly rushed to retrieve the ball, eager to restart play before AZ Alkmaar could mount another attack.

[Well, they got lucky there,] the co-commentator said. [But at this rate, how much longer can they hold out?]

The game restarted, but the momentum remained firmly with AZ Alkmaar. Lewis, still shaking his head, jogged back into position.

[Miss or not, AZ Alkmaar are knocking on the door again,] Mike said. [And something tells me they’re not done scoring with 5 minutes left until the full-time whistle]

SC Veendam tried to slow the game down, knocking the ball around at the back, but there was no real purpose behind their passes. It was damage control now—nothing more.

[They’re just waiting for the final whistle,] Mike observed. [They’ve had enough]

[And who can blame them?] his co-commentator replied. [Fifteen goals. That’s a scoreline you don’t even see in training matches]

But AZ Alkmaar weren’t done.

A heavy touch from Stienstra near the edge of the 18 yard box was all the invitation Adam needed.

The roaming playmaker pressed aggressively, poking the ball away before the SC Veendam defender could react.

[They’ve lost it again! Adam wins it back!]

In one swift motion, Adam shifted the ball to his left and spotted Benjamin, who was lingering in space just outside the penalty area.

[And here’s Benjamin Rijkaard once more,] Mike’s voice rose, anticipation creeping in. [He’s got time, he’s got space—will he go for it?]

Benjamin took a touch to steady himself. The defenders in front of him were slow to react, their legs weary from chasing shadows all game.

[He’s lining up a shot!]

The young midfielder swung his boot through the ball, striking it with power and precision.

The shot rocketed toward goal, swerving wickedly in mid-air. Nienhuis barely had time to react.

[Oh my—what a hit!]

CLANG!!!~

The ball rattled the crossbar with a deafening clang before bouncing back into play.

The rebound fell kindly for Overtoom, who instinctively threw himself at it, but the goalkeeper, still on the ground, somehow managed to deflect it away with an outstretched arm.

[Unbelievable save!] Mike shouted. [Nienhuis denies them again!]

[But it’s not over yet,] his partner interjected. [AZ Alkmaar are still pressing!]

The loose ball rolled toward the right side of the box, where Berghuis was already sprinting onto it. Without hesitation, he drove a low shot toward the near post.

Nienhuis, still recovering from his initial save, dived across desperately.

[Berghuis—can he finish it?]