Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 273: Offside 1

Chapter 273: Offside 1

Chris: [And AZ Alkmaar survive this onslaught!]

The home crowd roared, their voices still shaking from the goal. But the fear was there. One lapse, one mistake, and VVV-Venlo could be level again.

AZ Alkmaar needed control.

Henriksen slowed things down, passing back to Reijnen, who spread it to Gorter. Quick, simple passes—keeping possession, making VVV chase.

Benjamin exhaled, wiping his palms on his jeans. The tension hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had grown.

Time was ticking, but not fast enough.

Chris: [AZ Alkmaar just need to be smart now. No risks. Manage the game.]

Rob: [Easier said than done. 2-1 goal lead... anything can happen.]

The ball found its way to Berghuis on the right. He hesitated, then exploded forward, skipping past one defender. The space opened up.

Altidore peeled away from his marker. Berghuis saw it, played a perfect through ball—

Altidore took a touch, set himself—

Chris: [Can he finish it off?!]

He fired low and hard, aiming for the bottom corner.

Mäenpää reacted instantly, diving to his right—

Fingertips. Just enough to push it wide.

Rob: [Mäenpää AGAIN! He refuses to be beaten easily!]

The frustration in the stands was clear—groans, heads in hands. AZ Alkmaar had done everything right, but the scoreline still left the door open.

Berghuis jogged to the corner flag, wiping sweat from his forehead. He took a deep breath, glanced at his teammates crowding the 18 yard box, then lifted a hand—another signal.

Chris: [This might be the moment. Can they kill the game here?]

The delivery was sharp, curling toward the six-yard box.

Reijnen climbed—so did Röseler. A clash in the air. The ball deflected—looping dangerously—

Mäenpää punched it clear.

Chris: [It’s still alive!]

Henriksen controlled the rebound at the edge of the 18 yard box, quickly shifting to his right before unleashing a shot—

Blocked!

The ball ricocheted, falling to Gorter. He struck it first-time—

Over the bar.

Rob: [Another chance gone! AZ just can’t find the knockout punch!]

Benjamin ran a hand through his hair. This was torture. One goal lead wasn’t enough. Not with the way VVV-Venlo kept finding gaps on the counter.

And here they came again.

Mäenpää wasted no time, launching a quick goal kick over the top. Van Crooij sprinted after it, chasing as if his life depended on it.

Chris: [AZ have to be careful! VVV-Venlo still believe!]

Reijnen rushed across, shoulder-to-shoulder with Van Crooij. A tangle of legs—Van Crooij hit the ground!

Fweeee!

The whistle blew.

Rob: [Foul! And this is a dangerous position...]

The VVV-Venlo players swarmed the referee, arms raised, demanding more. The home crowd booed, furious at the call.

Benjamin’s leg bounced under his seat. He didn’t like this. Not one bit.

The free kick was positioned just outside the 18 yard box, slightly to the right. Perfect for a left-footer.

Post stood over it, eyes locked on the target.

Chris: [This is a huge moment. VVV-Venlo with a golden chance to equalize.]

Esteban Alvarado arranged his wall, shouting instructions with his arms waving. The tension inside the stadium was unbearable.

Rob: [Deep breaths, everyone. This could change everything.]

Post took his run-up. Struck it clean—

The ball curled wickedly over the wall, dipping—

Alvarado leaped and got his fingertips on it!

The ball clipped the crossbar and bounced out.

The stadium gasped.

Chris: [SO CLOSE!]

Reijnen cleared it before any follow-up could come. The danger, for now, was gone.

Benjamin slumped back in his seat, breathless. Too close. Too damn close.

Rob: [AZ Alkmaar survive... but they are living dangerously!]

Chris: [And there’s still time left. This isn’t over.]

The clock ticked into the 70th minute.

AZ Alkmaar needed another goal. One more to kill this off.

Henriksen picked up the ball in midfield, scanning for options. VVV-Venlo were stretched, gaps forming.

Berghuis made a run down the right—Henriksen spotted it, threading a perfect pass into his path.

Chris: [AZ Alkmaar on the attack again! Can they finally put this to bed?]

Berghuis didn’t break stride. One touch. Then another. The 18 yard box was in sight.

Altidore was screaming for it. He darted between the center-backs, hand raised, demanding the pass.

Berghuis delivered—low, precise, splitting the defenders.

Altidore took one touch to steady himself.

Then, he buried it past the goalkeeper. The net rippled.

GOOAAAAALLLLL!!!~

The stadium erupted.

Rob: [THAT’S IT! THAT HAS TO BE IT!]

Chris: [JOZY ALTIDORE SEALS IT!]

Altidore wheeled away with his arms out, roaring to the sky. His teammates swarmed him, the crowd losing their minds.

But then—

Fweeeee!~

A sharp whistle sounded.

The celebrations froze.

The linesman stood with his flag raised. It was an offside goal.

Chris: [Wait...]

Rob: [No... no, no, no...]

The replay flashed on the big screen. It was close. Inches. Maybe less.

Altidore stood with his hands on his head, staring at the linesman in disbelief. Berghuis was already pleading, shaking his head.

The crowd booed. A storm of whistles and protests.

Chris: [You have to feel for him. That was a striker’s finish. But the flag is up, and the goal won’t stand.]

Rob: [So, so close. But the score stays 2-1. And AZ Alkmaar still have work to do.]

Benjamin collapsed back into his seat, frustration boiling over. It felt like the game refused to end.

VVV-Venlo weren’t done.

The disallowed goal had given them life, a second wind. They pushed forward, sensing one last chance.

Post picked up the ball near the center circle, turned sharply, and threaded a pass to Van Crooij on the right wing.

The AZ Alkmaar defense scrambled back, but Van Crooij had space. Lots of space...

Chris: [AZ Alkmaar need to stay focused! VVV-Venlo are throwing everything at this!]

Van Crooij sprinted down the flank, eyes locked on the 18 yard box. Nwofor was lurking, waiting for the cross.

Reijnen closed in, stretching to block the delivery but it was too late.

The cross curled in, dipping dangerously toward the penalty spot.

Nwofor leapt, connecting with a powerful header—