Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 272: Two-up

Chapter 272: Two-up

Guðmundsson struck it low, aiming for the far corner. The ball zipped past the outstretched leg of a defender—

Mäenpää dived and made a fingertip save.

The crowd erupted in frustration as the ball trickled wide for another corner.

Rob: [Mäenpää AGAIN! He’s having the game of his life!]

Chris: [Guðmundsson did everything right there—just a brilliant save!]

Guðmundsson slammed his hands on the ground before pushing himself up. His teammates rushed over, patting him on the back, urging him to keep going. They knew the goal was coming. It had to.

Berghuis hurried to the corner flag, adjusting the ball before stepping back. He glanced into the box, eyes scanning the movement. The signal came—one hand raised.

He curled it in, fast and flat toward the near post.

Henriksen darted in, flicking it on—

Altidore lunged!

Blocked on the line!

Chris: [HOW?!]

The ball rebounded out. Gorter reacted first, smashing a volley—

Over the bar.

Rob: [AZ Alkmaar are throwing everything at this! But the goal won’t come!]

Benjamin groaned, running a hand down his face. It felt impossible. How many chances? How many saves?

On the touchline, the AZ Alkmaar coach clapped, urging his players forward. They couldn’t let frustration take over.

But VVV-Venlo smelled opportunity. Each missed chance gave them belief.

Mäenpää took his time with the goal kick, waving his players upfield. He launched it long, over the halfway line.

Post challenged in the air, knocking it down. Van Crooij reacted first, flicking it past his marker and taking off.

Chris: [VVV-Venlo breaking again!]

The stadium tensed.

Van Crooij surged forward, cutting inside. Nwofor made a diagonal run, dragging a defender with him. That tiny gap was all Van Crooij needed—

He let fly from 25 yards.

The shot swerved, dipping late—

Esteban dived, doing just enough to get his fingertips to it.

Rob: [WHAT A SAVE!]

The ball spun behind for a corner.

Benjamin’s heart pounded. One counter, one shot, and AZ Alkmaar had nearly found themselves behind.

Chris: [This game is on a knife’s edge now!]

The corner was swung in. Chaos. Bodies clashed. The ball bounced dangerously in the six-yard box—

Scrambled away.

AZ Alkmaar broke again.

Martens sprinted down the left, carrying the ball over the halfway line. He spotted Henriksen in space and played it through.

Henriksen took a touch, lifted his head—Altidore was making a run.

The pass was perfect. Altidore muscled past his marker, getting his body in front.

Chris: [This is it!]

He let the ball roll into his stride, took a deep breath—

And struck it.

The shot rocketed off his boot, low and powerful—

Mäenpää barely had time to react. He threw himself to his right—

The ball skimmed past his fingertips—

And smacked against the post.

Chris: [NO WAY!]

Rob: [You cannot come closer than that!]

The rebound shot out into the 18 yard box, bodies lunging, scrambling—Henriksen got there first!

He swung a boot at it—

Blocked!

The ball spun loose again. Guðmundsson reacted quickest, stabbing it toward goal—

Cleared off the line!

Chris: [Unbelievable! VVV-Venlo are surviving by the skin of their teeth!]

Rob: [It’s like there’s a force field around that goal!]

The crowd groaned, hands on heads, voices rising in disbelief. This was relentless. Attack after attack, chance after chance—still nothing.

Benjamin clenched his jaw, gripping his Coke can so hard it nearly buckled. This was agony.

Mäenpää stayed down for a moment, catching his breath. His defenders rushed over, patting his back, dragging him up. They needed him. They all did.

#65th minute.

AZ Alkmaar refused to slow down. The next wave came instantly.

Henriksen spread the play to Martens on the left. A quick touch forward. The cross whipped in, curling toward the penalty spot—

Chris: [Here we go again—]

Altidore climbed, towering over his marker, twisting his neck—

His header powered down toward the bottom corner—

Mäenpää, somehow, somehow, got a hand to it.

Rob: [ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!]

The ball bobbled loose—

Guðmundsson pounced, took a touch and smashed it into the roof of the net.

Silence followed... Then eruption.

GOOOAAAAAALLLLL!!!~

Chris: [FINALLY! FINALLY!]

Rob: [AZ Alkmaar break through! And listen to this place explode!]

Guðmundsson sprinted to the corner flag with his arms out wide, teammates piling onto him. The crowd was shaking the stadium.

Benjamin jumped to his feet, Coke forgotten, fists pumping the air.

It had taken everything. Every ounce of effort, every bit of patience. But finally, finally, they had the lead.

Chris: [You have to feel for Mäenpää—he’s been superhuman today. But AZ Alkmaar were never going to stop!]

Rob: [And now, with just minutes left, can VVV-Venlo find a way back? Or is this the goal that buries them?]

The scoreboard updated: AZ Alkmaar 2 - 1 VVV-Venlo. 66th minute.

VVV-Venlo didn’t waste a second. As soon as the ball was retrieved, they rushed to the center circle for the restart. The urgency was clear—they had to respond.

Chris: [Well, now we see what VVV-Venlo are made of. Can they shake off that goal and fight back?]

Rob: [They’ve defended like warriors, but now they have to attack. They need a moment of magic.]

The ball rolled into play.

Post controlled it and immediately looked forward. Van Crooij sprinted down the right, calling for it. The pass came, curling into his path. He took it in stride, pushing up the flank.

The AZ Alkmaar defense scrambled, shifting to close him down.

Chris: [VVV-Venlo aren’t sitting back! Here they come!]

Van Crooij feinted right, then cut inside, his marker stumbling. A pocket of space opened. He glanced up—Nwofor was making a run, splitting the center-backs.

The pass was precise, threading through the gap—

Nwofor latched onto it, took a touch inside the 18 yard box—

Esteban Alvarado rushed out of his six-yard box.

Nwofor struck—

Blocked! Alvarado threw himself at the shot, smothering it.

Rob: [Big, big save! That could’ve been the equalizer!]

The rebound spilled loose—Post was charging in—

Henriksen got there first, stretching to clear it.