Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 253: Football Gives No F*cks

Chapter 253: Football Gives No F*cks

The stadium held its breath. Altidore took a deep breath and then stepped forward. He struck the ball firmly, aiming low to Reina’s right.

For a split second, it looked perfect—the pace, the direction. But Reina read it. He launched himself, arms fully extended.

A loud thud echoed as Reina’s glove smothered the ball.

Anfield erupted.

Rob Townsend: [SAVED! REINA STOPS IT!LIVERPOOL ARE STILL IN THIS!]

Jamie Carter: [Jozy Altidore had the chance to silence Anfield—and he’s blown it! That was a HUGE moment! Altidore went for power, but Reina read him perfectly! What a save!]

The ball deflected away, spinning back into play. Altidore reacted first, rushing forward to try and bury the rebound.

But Reina was up in a flash. He threw himself forward, smothering it at Altidore’s feet.

The Liverpool players pounced, shielding their goalkeeper as Reina clutched the ball to his chest. He took his time, letting the moment sink in, before finally getting to his feet and pumping his fist to the crowd.

Jamie Carter: [Liverpool survive! That’s what top goalkeepers do. When your team needs you the most, you deliver. And Reina has just kept Liverpool alive in this game! And listen to this crowd—Anfield has woken up!]

Rob Townsend: [You could feel the pressure on that penalty. Altidore knew what was at stake, but Reina guessed right. And now—]

Jamie Carter: [That save might just be the turning point. AZ Alkmaar had a chance to go two up, but now Liverpool have life again.]

Rob Townsend: [I agree with you on that Jamie, missed penalties always have consequences. Now, AZ Alkmaar need to regroup—because you know Liverpool will throw everything at them now.]

On the touchline, Brendan Rodgers punched the air, his expression fierce. He turned to the bench, barking instructions.

Gertjan Verbeek, on the other hand, showed no emotions. His arms were crossed, and lips pressed into a thin line.

Back on the pitch, Benjamin shook his head and took a deep breath, adjusting his armband.

Liverpool wasted no time. Reina rolled the ball out quickly to Gerrard, who immediately surged forward.

The game was still alive. And Anfield was roaring again.

Reina’s save had flipped the energy in the stadium. The Kop, silenced moments ago, was now alive with renewed hope. The chants grew louder, the claps sharper, as Liverpool seized the momentum.

Steven Gerrard, eyes burning with urgency, drove forward with the ball at his feet. He brushed past Henriksen, shaking off the challenge like it was nothing, before pinging a diagonal pass to Sterling on the right flank.

Rob Townsend: [Liverpool are playing with fire now! That penalty save has changed everything!]

Jamie Carter: [You can feel the shift, Rob. AZ Alkmaar had the chance to put them away. Instead, they’ve let Liverpool breathe again. And that’s dangerous.]

Sterling controlled the ball on the touchline, his first touch immaculate. He glanced up, reading the field, before darting forward, hugging the sideline. The AZ Alkmaar defense scrambled to reorganize, but Sterling was electric.

He dipped his shoulder and feinted inside, forcing Viergever to step forward. That was his opening. In an instant, Sterling shifted gears, accelerating past the defender on the outside, flying down the right wing.

Rob Townsend: [There he goes! Raheem Sterling—unstoppable when he gets moving!]

The teenager didn’t hesitate. He bent a cross toward the far post, curling wickedly into the danger area.

Suárez was there.

He twisted mid-air, adjusting his body as the ball swerved toward him.

He met it with a glancing header, redirecting it low toward the bottom corner.

Jamie Carter: [Suárez! That’s on target—]

But Alvarado was equal to it. The goalkeeper, already in motion, threw himself to his right, his fingertips grazing the ball enough to push it just wide.

The Kop groaned. "So close!"

Rob Townsend: [Alvarado again! This man is keeping AZ Alkmaar afloat!]

Jamie Carter: [How many saves is that now? Liverpool are relentless, but Alvarado—my word, what a performance from him so far.]

The corner was taken quickly. Gerrard whipped in a fierce ball toward the penalty spot.

Carragher, determined to make up for the penalty incident, rose highest. His header was thunderous, sent crashing toward goal.

The ball slammed against the crossbar.

CLANG!!!~

The crowd gasped.

The rebound fell into a chaotic cluster of players. Bodies tangled and limbs flailed. Altidore, desperate to atone for his missed penalty, hacked the ball clear.

But only as far as Gerrard who lurked just outside the 18 yard box.

Rob Townsend: [It’s still alive! Gerrard—]

Gerrard met it with a first-time volley. It was pure power, a rocket of a strike.

The ball screamed through the air—straight at goal.

Alvarado barely had time to react. He threw himself sideways, his arms stretched desperately.

The net rippled and Anfield erupted.

GOOAAAALLLLL!!!~

Jamie Carter: [GERRARD! OH, CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN!]

Rob Townsend: [Liverpool are level! And who else but Steven Gerrard to drag them back into this game!]

Gerrard sprinted toward the corner flag, punching the air in fury and triumph. His teammates mobbed him, the Kop chanting his name.

Brendan Rodgers, on the touchline, clenched his fists and let out a roar.

The scoreboard flickered: Liverpool 1-1 AZ Alkmaar. 25th minute.

The balance had shifted. AZ Alkmaar, once in control, now found themselves retreating under relentless pressure.

Benjamin Rijkaard stood near the halfway line with his hands on his hips, watching Liverpool celebrate. His jaw was clenched tight in fustration. ’This isn’t going to be an easy ride.’

Jamie Carter: [That’s the power of a leader, Rob. Gerrard refuses to let Liverpool go down quietly, especially against a club of AZ Alkmaar’s stature. And now, it’s AZ Alkmaar who have to respond.]

Rob Townsend: [Benjamin was brilliant earlier, but now we get to see what he’s really made of. Can he rise to the occasion again?]

The game restarted. AZ Alkmaar looking shaken but not broken, tried to settle. They played short, patient passes, slowing the tempo, looking to take the sting out of the game.

Martens controlled in midfield, shifting the ball left to Victor Elm. Benjamin dropped deep, demanding possession.

He got it.

He took one touch to control, one touch to turn, and then he was off.