Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 339: Halftime

Chapter 339: Halftime

AZ Alkmaar restarted the game, Altidore and Benjamin exchanging a quick pass to get things moving.

Gertjan Verbeek clapped from the sideline, his face set, shouting for his team to press higher, while McClaren stood with his arms crossed, his expression calm but focused, knowing his side held a commanding lead.

Esteban Alvarado jogged back to his goal, his eyes sharp, ready to organize his defense against any further Twente attacks.

#41th minute.

AZ Alkmaar pushed forward, desperate for a response before halftime. Adam Maher picked up the ball in midfield, shrugging off Brama with a quick turn, his eyes scanning for options.

He spotted Berghuis making a run down the right, Rosales caught slightly out of position. Maher’s pass was crisp, the ball skimming across the grass, landing at Berghuis’s feet.

The winger took a touch, darting past Schilder with a quick step-over, his speed catching the defender off guard. The away fans roared, scarves waving, their chants growing louder as Berghuis charged toward the 18 yard box.

[AZ Alkmaar are pushing back!] the lead commentator exclaimed, his voice rising with the crowd’s energy. [Berghuis is on the move—Schilder’s struggling to keep up!]

[They need something before halftime,] the co-commentator noted, his tone urgent. [Berghuis has the pace—can he create a chance here?]

Berghuis kept driving, Douglas stepping up to meet him, his arms wide to block the angle. Wisgerhof shifted to cover Altidore, who was lurking near the penalty spot, while Benjamin made a late run on the left, unmarked.

Berghuis feinted a cross, forcing Douglas to commit, then chopped the ball back, creating a yard of space. He fired a low cross toward Altidore, who lunged, his foot outstretched, but Mihaylov dove low, gloving the ball before it could reach the striker.

The ball rolled out for a corner, the away fans groaning, hands on heads, while Twente’s supporters cheered, Mihaylov’s save keeping their two-goal lead intact.

[Mihaylov with another big save!] the lead commentator shouted, his tone sharp. [Altidore was so close—Mihaylov’s been a wall tonight!]

[He’s keeping Twente in control,] the co-commentator added, scribbling in his notebook. [AZ Alkmaar are throwing everything at them, but they can’t find a way through]

The corner came, Benjamin’s delivery curling into the 18 yard box, the ball dipping under the floodlights. Viergever rose, outjumping Douglas, his header looping toward the far post, but Wisgerhof was there, heading it clear, the ball sailing upfield.

Fer scooped it up, clearing the danger, and the home fans clapped, their defense holding firm. [Wisgerhof stands tall!] the lead commentator noted. [Viergever’s header was dangerous, but Twente clear their lines!]

[Good defending from Wisgerhof,] the co-commentator said. [Twente are soaking up the pressure—they’re looking solid at the back.]

#43rd minute.

FC Twente settled, Fer passing to Brama, who took a touch, slowing the game down. Twente’s fans chanted louder, sensing their team was in control, while AZ Alkmaar’s players pressed high, trying to force a mistake.

Brama rolled the ball to Chadli on the left, who controlled it, his body angled toward the sideline. Johansson charged to close him down, but Chadli chopped the ball past him with a quick feint, darting forward.

The home fans roared, Chadli’s skill drawing cheers, while Johansson scrambled to recover, his face red with effort.

[Chadli’s at it again!] the lead commentator exclaimed. [He’s giving Johansson a tough night—that was a lovely bit of skill!]

[He’s been electric tonight,] the co-commentator added, his tone full of admiration. [After that goal, he’s full of confidence—AZ Alkmaar need to watch him closely.]

Chadli kept the ball, passing to Tadić, who was hovering near the center circle, his eyes sharp. Tadić took a touch, glancing up to find Castaignos making a run down the right. He fired a long ball, the pass perfectly weighted, landing at Castaignos’s feet.

The striker sprinted past Gorter, his speed too much for the defender, the goal in sight. Viergever sprinted across to cover, his arms wide, while Esteban Alvarado positioned himself on his line, ready for a shot.

Castaignos took a touch, steadying himself, then fired low, the shot skimming toward the bottom corner. Esteban Alvarado dove, his fingers brushing the ball, tipping it wide, the post rattling as the ball rolled out for a corner.

The home fans groaned, hands on heads, while AZ Alkmaar’s supporters cheered, Esteban Alvarado’s save keeping them in the game.

[What a save from Esteban Alvarado!] the lead commentator gasped. [Castaignos thought he had it—that could’ve been 4-1!]

[Big moment for AZ Alkmaar,] the co-commentator noted, his voice steady. [Esteban Alvarado l’s been under pressure, but he’s standing tall—great goalkeeping!]

The corner came, Tadić’s delivery curling into the 18 yard box, the ball hanging under the lights. Douglas rose, outmuscling Viergever, his header looping toward the far post, but Reijnen was there, heading it off the line, the ball bouncing clear.

Martens scooped it up, clearing it upfield, the danger averted. The home fans groaned, their frustration clear, while AZ Alkmaar’s supporters clapped, their defense holding firm. [Reijnen clears it off the line!] the lead commentator shouted. [Twente so close to making it 4-1!]

[Great defending from Reijnen,] the co-commentator noted. [Twente are pushing for another, but AZ Alkmaar’s backline is standing tall.]

#45th minute.

The referee signaled for one minute of stoppage time, the crowd buzzing as both teams made a final push. AZ Alkmaar tried to create one last chance, Henriksen winning a loose ball in midfield, passing to Benjamin on the left.

Benjamin chopped past Rosales with a quick step-over, his cross low, but Wisgerhof slid in, deflecting it out for a throw. The away fans clapped, urging their team on, but the throw led to nothing, Twente’s defense clearing the danger.

[Benjamin’s trying to make something happen,] the lead commentator said. [But Twente’s defense is holding firm—they’re seeing this half out!]

[They’ve been solid since that third goal,] the co-commentator added. [AZ Alkmaar need to regroup at halftime—they’ve got a mountain to climb now.]

Fweeee!~ Fweeeee!~

The referee blew for halftime, the score 3-1 to FC Twente. The players jogged off, their breaths visible in the cold air, sweat dripping from their brows.

Gertjan Verbeek clapped his hands, his face stern, urging his team to the tunnel, while McClaren nodded to his players, his expression calm but pleased.

The crowd buzzed, the home fans chanting loudly, their team in control, while AZ Alkmaar’s supporters kept their spirits up, their chants echoing into the night.

[What a first half at De Grolsch Veste!] the lead commentator exhaled, his voice warm. [Twente lead 3-1—Chadli’s counterattack goal the highlight after Altidore and Castaignos traded early strikes, and Bulykin put Twente ahead. AZ Alkmaar have had their chances, but Twente’s quality is shining through!]

[AZ Alkmaar are still in this, but they’ve got work to do,] the co-commentator said, flipping through his notes. [They’ve been dangerous—Benjamin and Altidore have caused problems—but Twente’s counterattacks have been lethal. Chadli and Tadić are running the show. Gertjan Verbeek needs a big team talk at halftime if AZ Alkmaar are going to get back into this.]

The stats flashed on the screen—AZ Alkmaar with 9 shots, 4 on target; Twente with 10 shots, 5 on target.

The first half had been a thriller, and the second promised even more drama as AZ Alkmaar faced a steep challenge to keep their Eredivisie title chase alive.