Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 197: AZ Alkmaar Vs RKC Waalwijk

Chapter 197: AZ Alkmaar Vs RKC Waalwijk

[Strong lineup,] the co-commentator noted. [We know how dangerous Berghuis can be on that right flank, and Benjamin Rijkaard has been nothing short of sensational in recent weeks]

[And speaking of Benjamin, let’s talk about that midweek KNVB Beker match,] Mike said, unable to hold back his enthusiasm. [AZ Alkmaar didn’t just win comfortably, they absolutely demolished SC Veendam. 15-0! A record-breaking scoreline in the history of the competition]

[And who else but Benjamin Rijkaard to steal the show?] his co-commentator replied. [Four goals, Mike. This kid was untouchable that night. The defenders couldn’t get near him]

The screen flashed highlights of the cup match—Benjamin weaving past helpless defenders, his powerful strikes rippling the net.

The crowd at the Mandemakers Stadion gave a mixed reaction, some impressed, others wary of what he might do to their team tonight.

[He was playing like a man possessed,] Mike continued. [Four goals, one assist—it was a masterclass from the youngster. And tonight, he’ll be looking to carry that momentum into the league]

[No doubt about it,] the co-commentator agreed. [But this is a different challenge. RKC Waalwijk won’t give him the same space he had against SC Veendam. They’ll be physical, they’ll be disciplined. This is where we see what he’s really made of]

The players finished shaking hands, and the captains met at the center circle for the coin toss. The referee flipped the coin, and after a brief exchange, RKC Waalwijk won the toss, opting to kick off.

[Here we go,] Mike said, the anticipation building. [AZ Alkmaar, second in the table, looking to keep pace with Ajax. RKC Waalwijk, fighting to stay clear of the drop zone. A clash of two different objectives, but one thing’s for sure—this will be a battle for the ages]

The referee checked his watch, raised his whistle to his lips, and with a sharp blow, the match was underway.

Fweeeee!~

The game kicked off with RKC Waalwijk immediately pressing high, their midfield pushing up to close down AZ Alkmaar’s passing lanes. The home fans roared in approval, urging their team forward.

[Good intensity from RKC Waalwijk early on,] Mike observed. [They’re not sitting back—they’re looking to disrupt AZ Alkmaar’s rhythm from the first whistle]

[And that’s exactly what they need to do,] his co-commentator added. [If they let AZ Alkmaar settle into their passing game, it could be a long night for them]

AZ Alkmaar, however, remained composed. Viktor Elm dropped deep to collect the ball, looking for options.

With a quick turn, he fed it out wide to Berghuis, who immediately took off down the right flank.

[Here comes Steven Berghuis,] Mike called. [He’s got pace, and he’s not afraid to take on his man]

Berghuis drove forward, Dustley Mulder tracking him closely. With a clever drop of the shoulder, he cut inside and spotted Benjamin making a diagonal run toward the box.

[Berghuis sees Benjamin—lovely ball into space!]

Benjamin took it in stride, his first touch setting him up perfectly as he burst past his marker. The crowd held its breath as he lined up a shot from outside the 18 yard box.

[Benjamin goes for goal—]

He struck it cleanly, the ball rocketing toward the top corner.

Van den Kieboom barely had time to react as it curled at the last second, smacking the inside of the far post.

CLANG!!!

The stadium gasped. The ball ricocheted off the opposite post, rolling across the goal line before Bouma scrambled it clear for a corner.

[Oh my word! How did that not go in?!] Mike shouted, his voice full of disbelief. [Benjamin Rijkaard was inches—no, millimeters—from a spectacular goal early goal!]

[That was unbelievable,] his co-commentator added, shaking his head. [Hit both posts! You could hear the sound of it rattling the frame. He struck that so well—Van den Kieboom was completely beaten!]

Benjamin stood frozen for a moment, hands on his head. He had already turned to celebrate before realizing the ball hadn’t crossed the line. Jozy Altidore clapped him on the back, shaking his head with a grin.

[You can see the frustration on Benjamin’s face,] Mike noted. [He thought that was in—and so did we!]

[What a let-off for RKC Waalwijk,] the co-commentator said. [But credit to Bouma—he reacted quickly to clear it before Altidore could pounce]

AZ Alkmaar jogged toward the penalty area, ready for the corner. Benjamin placed the ball down, the defenders jostling inside the 18 yard box.

[This game has come to life early,] Mike continued. [And we’ve barely played three minutes!]

Benjamin took a deep breath, lifted his hand, and sent the ball curling into the area. The battle for the first goal was well and truly on.

The corner swung in with pace, curling toward the near post where Altidore muscled his way through a cluster of defenders.

The American striker timed his jump perfectly, rising above Mulder to flick the ball toward the back post.

[Altidore gets there—]

The ball skimmed off the top of his head, sailing across goal. Henriksen, ghosting in unmarked, lunged forward, his right foot stretching to meet it.

[Henriksen—can he finish?!] Mike’s voice climbed in excitement.

The attacking midfielder got a toe on it, redirecting the ball toward the bottom corner, but Van den Kieboom reacted instantly, diving low to his right to push it away.

[A huge save from Van den Kieboom!] the co-commentator shouted. [That was heading in!]

The rebound spilled into a dangerous area, just outside the six-yard box. Benjamin, who had lingered near the edge of the 18 yard box after taking the corner, sprinted forward.

[Benjamin’s onto it!] Mike called. [Can he make this one count?!]

Before he could pull the trigger, a desperate slide tackle from Meijers sent the ball spinning out of play for another corner.

[Last-ditch defending from RKC Waalwijk,] the co-commentator breathed. [They are hanging on for dear life here]

Benjamin let out a frustrated sigh but quickly grabbed the ball, setting it down for another corner. His focus was razor-sharp as he lifted his arm, signaling his teammates.