Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 76: Bloodbath 1

Chapter 76: Bloodbath 1

For a split second, it looked destined for the net.

But Nordfeldt, somehow, reacted.

The goalkeeper threw himself across the goalmouth, and his fingertips brushed the ball just enough to deflect it onto the crossbar.

Clang!

The ball ricocheted straight back into play, where Altidore rose for a header but couldn’t direct it toward goal.

[OFF THE BAR!] Martin bellowed as the stadium groaned. [What a save! Nordfeldt’ at it again, keeping AZ Alkmaar out with his fingertips!]

[He’s single-handedly preventing this from turning into a cricket score,] Dirk added. [That’s unbelievable from the goalkeeper, but AZ Alkmaar are relentless in their attacks. They smell blood]

The camera cut to Benjamin, who placed his hands on his hips while staring up at the crossbar as if asking it for answers.

His frustration didn’t linger for long, though. He quickly clapped his hands, urging his teammates forward.

***

The commentators paused as the replays rolled on the stadium’s big screen.

First, Benjamin’s electric run and near-assist, then Altidore’s denied strike, and finally, Nordfeldt’s acrobatics to deny the teenager’s rocket.

[Three chances in four minutes,] Martin summarized, his voice calm but impressed. [If you’re a Heerenveen fan and still present in the AFAS Stadion, you’re holding your breath every time AZ Alkmaar come forward]

[And they’re not done yet, Martin,] Dirk replied. [This front line smells a sixth goal, and Benjamin’s the ringleader. Every attack flows through him. You feel like it’s just a matter of time before the net shakes]

The crowd’s energy reflected the action on the pitch. Every missed opportunity was met with groans, but they quickly turned into cheers of encouragement.

They believed the next one would go in. So did the players.

On the Heerenveen bench, Marco van Basten sat motionless, and his face a stormy cloud of frustration.

He’d tried to shore things up with his substitutions, but AZ Alkmaar kept finding new ways to carve them open.

For Heerenveen, it was clear they were hanging on by a cotton thread. Nordfeldt’s heroics were the only thing keeping the scoreline from spiraling further, but there was no mistaking it: AZ Alkmaar weren’t satisfied yet.

The game resumed, and AZ Alkmaar picked up exactly where they left off—pressing, probing, and dismantling Heerenveen’s fragile defense.

The energy from the stands surged through the players, spurring them on with each pass and run.

In the 67th minute, Henriksen orchestrated the next wave of attack. After receiving the ball near the halfway line, he glanced upfield to assess his options.

[Henriksen has space here,] Martin noted, his tone sharpening. [Heerenveen can’t afford to back off like this]

The midfielder surged forward, shrugging off a clumsy challenge from the defensive midfielder, Mulder. As he neared the edge of the penalty area, he spotted Benjamin cutting in from the left flank.

Henriksen released a perfectly weighted pass that split the left side of the defense where Otigba and Maracek were positioned. The ball rolled invitingly into Benjamin’s stride and he took it in tow.

[Here we go again,] Dirk said, leaning into the moment. [Benjamin’s found himself in acres of space!]

Benjamin didn’t hesitate. His first touch was impeccable, killing the ball’s momentum as he darted toward the byline.

His marker, Otigba, looked desperate to cover as he lunged in recklessly with a tackle, but Benjamin’s quick feet flicked the ball over and left him sliding into thin air.

[Otigba’s been left for dead,] Martin chuckled. [This kid’s making seasoned defenders look like sunday league amateurs tonight!]

After evading his marker, Benjamin whipped a low, driven cross into the six-yard box. The ball rolled with pace, zipping through a forest of legs.

The Heerenveen defenders scrambled, their bodies twisting awkwardly in panic, but the delivery was too sharp and cunningly played.

The ball fell to Berghuis who was stationed at the far post, and instinctively poked it goalward.

Unfortunately, Nordfeldt once again produced a miraculous save, diving low to parry the ball away.

[Unbelievable from Nordfeldt!] Dirk exclaimed. [He’s keeping this scoreline respectable almost single-handedly!]

But the danger wasn’t over yet. The deflection ricocheted straight into the path of Henriksen, who had continued his run into the 18-yard box.

With the composure of a seasoned player, Henriksen opened his body slightly and guided the ball into the top corner with his left foot, in a clean, side-footed finish.

The net bulged, and the stadium erupted in euphoria.

GOAAAAL!~

[That’s SIX for AZ Alkmaar!] Martin roared over the crowd’s celebration. [Henriksen finishes it off after relentless pressure!]

[You can only hold back a dam for so long,] Dirk added, shaking his head in admiration. [Nordfeldt did everything he could, but Henriksen was in the right place at the right time. What a finish!]

Henriksen wheeled away in celebration with his arms outstretched as he sprinted toward the home supporters. His teammates swarmed him, their grins matching the jubilant roar of the crowd.

[It’s pure dominance from AZ Alkmaar,] Martin continued as the camera panned to the dejected Heerenveen players. [They’ve torn Heerenveen apart tonight. The only question now is, how many more can they get past them?]

The scoreboard flashed again, solidifying the misery for Heerenveen: AZ Alkmaar 6-0 Heerenveen.

On the touchline, Gertjan Verbeek stood calmly with his hands tucked into his coat pockets. His expression betrayed no emotion as he was most likely numb from the previous celebrations, but the slight nod of his head spoke volumes.

In contrast, Marco van Basten slumped further in his technical area, his face a mask of frustration.

Despite his substitutions and his tactics after the red card—nothing had stemmed the tide. His team was battered, broken, and humiliated.

And worst of all, it was only the 67th minute of the second half. There was still twenty-three minutes plus added time left until full-time.

[What more can you say?] Dirk asked, his voice tinged with sympathy. [Heerenveen are out of their depth tonight. This is a performance that will haunt them for the rest of the season]

[And AZ Alkmaar are putting the league on notice,] Martin added. [If they can keep playing like this, they’ll be contenders for more than just a top-four spot]

The players reset for the restart, but the energy in the stadium remained electric.

The AZ Alkmaar fans weren’t done celebrating, and neither were the players. There was still time, and they wanted more.