Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 200: Tension

Chapter 200: Tension

The pace of the game remained unrelenting. RKC Waalwijk pushed forward with intent, but every time they built momentum, AZ Alkmaar stood firm, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

[You have to admire the way AZ Alkmaar are managing this,] Mike said. [They’re not just sitting back—they’re picking their moments and striking with precision]

[Exactly,] his partner agreed. [And that’s what makes them so dangerous. They don’t need a lot of chances—they just need the right one]

The ball was back in play, moving swiftly across the midfield as RKC Waalwijk continued their search for a breakthrough.

El Makrini controlled it near the center circle, looking for options. With a sharp turn, he sent a lofted pass toward Najah, who had found space down the right wing.

[Imad Najah again, causing problems,] Mike noted. [He’s been lively down that side]

Najah controlled it neatly and drove forward, his quick footwork forcing Gorter to backpedal.

The winger feinted left before cutting inside onto his left foot, whipping a dangerous ball into the 18 yard box.

[Good ball in—]

Lieder rose to meet it, his header angled toward the far corner.

[Mart Lieder—]

But Alvarado was equal to it, reacting instantly to palm the ball away with his fingertips.

[ALVARADO WITH ANOTHER BIG SAVE!] Mike shouted. [He’s keeping AZ Alkmaar’s clean sheet intact!]

[That’s a top-class stop,] his co-commentator marveled. [Lieder did everything right, but Alvarado just wouldn’t be beaten]

The rebound bounced loose in the 18 yard box, chaos ensuing as players scrambled to get a foot on it.

Before anyone could react, Viergever launched himself into a crucial clearance, sending the ball soaring upfield.

[RKC Waalwijk are getting closer,] Mike said. [But they just can’t find the back of the net!]

As the home side groaned in frustration, AZ Alkmaar quickly reorganized. Martens retrieved the clearance near the halfway line and immediately looked to transition. With one glance up, he spotted Benjamin making a darting run into space.

[Here comes Benjamin Rijkaard,] Mike’s voice sharpened. [AZ Alkmaar on the break again!]

Martens threaded a perfectly weighted ball through the middle. Benjamin latched onto it with ease, his first touch immaculate as he accelerated forward.

[RKC Waalwijk are in trouble here!] the co-commentator warned. [Look at the space Benjamin has!]

Defenders scrambled back, but Benjamin was already cutting inside, his eyes locked on goal. Twenty-five yards out, he adjusted his stride and unleashed a thunderous strike.

The ball rocketed through the air, swerving violently before smashing against the inside of the right post. It ricocheted across the face of goal, struck the opposite post, and bounced back into play.

CLANG!!! CLANG!!!

[GREAT HIT FROM BENJAMIN RIJKAARD—OH MY WORD, OFF BOTH POSTS!] Mike bellowed.

The stadium held its breath.

Van den Kieboom, having been completely beaten by the initial strike, scrambled desperately. Dustley Mulder reacted first, lunging in to clear the danger before Altidore could pounce.

[Muldey gets it away—just!]

[That was almost a wonder goal from Benjamin!] the co-commentator exclaimed. [How did that not go in?!]

The AZ Alkmaar bench had already been half out of their seats, ready to celebrate. Instead, disbelief washed over them.

[That’s football for you,] Mike said, exhaling. [An inch to the left or right, and that’s in. But somehow, it stays out.]

AZ Alkmaar had won a corner, but RKC Waalwijk had just survived their biggest scare of the game.

The tension inside the stadium was thick as Benjamin jogged over to take the set piece, still shaking his head.

[Can they capitalize on this?] Mike wondered aloud. [Or has RKC Waalwijk just been handed a lifeline?]

Benjamin placed the ball near the corner flag, taking a deep breath as he glanced toward the crowded penalty area.

AZ Alkmaar players jostled for position, their movements restless as they tried to shake off their markers.

[This is a big moment,] Mike said, his voice steadying. [RKC Waalwijk just had a massive let-off, but now they’ve got to defend this set piece]

[And let’s not forget, AZ Alkmaar have some real aerial threats,] his co-commentator added. [Altidore, Viergever, Reijnen, Martens, and even Henriksen—they’re all capable in the air]

Benjamin raised his arm, signaling his intent. The delivery came in—a wicked, outswinging cross that curled dangerously toward the six-yard box.

[It’s a good one—]

Altidore rose highest, his powerful frame bulldozing past his marker as he met the ball with a thundering header.

[ALTIDORE—]

The connection was solid, the ball flying toward the top corner. But van den Kieboom reacted instinctively, his fingertips grazing the shot just enough to send it crashing off the crossbar.

[UNBELIEVABLE SAVE!] Mike roared. [Van den Kieboom somehow keeps it out!]

The rebound dropped right into the melee of players, bouncing wildly as legs flailed in an attempt to get the all-important touch.

[It’s still alive! Who’s getting there first?]

Chaos erupted in the six-yard box. Nourdin Boukhari lunged in desperately, trying to poke the ball clear, but Henriksen got there a fraction of a second earlier. The AZ Alkmaar attacking midfielder stretched, toe-poking the ball toward goal.

[Henriksen—this could be it!]

But out of nowhere, Frank van Mosselveld slid in, deflecting the shot inches wide of the post.

[WHAT A BLOCK FROM van Mosselveld!] the co-commentator yelled. [He’s just thrown himself at it!]

The ball rolled out for another corner as Henriksen sat up, hands on his head in frustration.

Altidore turned toward the referee, raising his arms, convinced there had been a foul in the buildup.

[AZ Alkmaar just can’t believe this,] Mike said. [First the shot from Benjamin off both posts, then Altidore’s header, and now Henriksen—how are they not ahead?]

[Credit to RKC Waalwijk’s defense,] his partner responded. [They’re riding their luck, but they’re also throwing bodies in the way. That’s pure desperation defending.]

AZ Alkmaar’s fans roared, urging their team forward. Benjamin set up for another corner, determination etched on his face.

[You feel like something has to give soon,] Mike said, his voice laced with anticipation. [AZ Alkmaar knocking on the door—will they finally break through?]