Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 78: Bloodbath 3

Chapter 78: Bloodbath 3

Benjamin’s pace was electric as he surged down the flank with the ball glued to his feet. Otigba tried to keep up, but the teenager’s quick bursts left him lagging behind.

[Benjamin’s making this look effortless,] Dirk commented. [Every time he gets the ball, Heerenveen look like they’re in panic mode]

Heerenveen’s defense scrambled to close him down, but Benjamin’s decision-making was razor-sharp. A quick cut inside on his right foot sent another defender sliding past him.

With a flick of his ankle, he played a slick one-two with Adam Maher, who had seamlessly slotted into the midfield.

[Look at that understanding,] Martin said, his voice tinged with excitement. [Maher’s just come on, and already he’s linking up beautifully with Benjamin]

As Benjamin sprinted into the box with the ball, the angle tightened. Instead of going for goal, he spotted Beerens lurking unmarked at the edge of the penalty area.

He squared the ball across the 18-yard box and it rolled with pace into Beerens’ path. But the left-back, van Anholt was already closing him down.

[What vision from Benjamin!] Dirk exclaimed.

Beerens took a touch to evaded van Anholt’ challenge and he unleashed a curling shot toward the far post.

Nordfeldt dived at full stretch, his gloves brushing the ball just enough to push it onto the post.

Clang!

It struck the woodwork and ricocheted back into play, causing a scramble in the box.

[What a save!] Martin shouted. [That was inches away from being the eighth goal tonight]

The ball bounced dangerously near Altidore, who lunged forward, but Otigba, who was desperate to redeem himself, managed to get a last-ditch clearance in, sending the ball out for a corner.

[You have to give credit to Nordfeldt and Otigba there,] Dirk said. [They’re doing everything they can to stem the tide, even if it feels like trying to plug a dam with a finger]

As AZ Alkmaar prepared for the corner, the camera panned to Gertjan Verbeek on the sidelines. The coach clapped and shouted instructions, his intensity undimmed despite the scoreline.

[He’s never satisfied, is he?] Martin chuckled. [That’s why his teams are so ruthless. They don’t just settle—they push until the final whistle]

The corner was whipped in by Henrikson, the ball curling dangerously into the six-yard box. Nordfeldt punched it clear, but only as far as Adam on the edge of the 18-yard box.

Adam controlled the ball with his chest and volleyed it low through a forest of legs.

Nordfeldt, who lost sight of the ball until the final moments, could only watch as the ball zipped past him and grazed the outside of the post before going out.

[Oh, that was close!] Dirk said, his voice rising. [Adam nearly marked his entrance with a stunning goal]

The Heerenveen players were visibly rattled, their movements sluggish as they tried to regroup. Van Basten barked orders from the technical area, but his gestures felt more out of frustration than strategy.

[You can sense the frustration from Van Basten,] Martin observed. [He’s trying to rally his players, but they’re out of ideas—and out of energy]

Back in possession, AZ Alkmaar reset the tempo, passing the ball around with confidence.

Each touch was purposeful, and every movement they made was calculated to draw Heerenveen out of their defensive shell.

Benjamin, stationed wide, beckoned for the ball again, his body language oozing confidence.

[They’re playing with swagger now,] Dirk noted. [And why wouldn’t they? Seven goals up, and they’re still hungry for more]

As the game moved into the final fifteen minutes, the pace showed no sign of slowing.

The AZ Alkmaar fans remained vocal, their chants echoing across the AFAS Stadion. The players responded to the energy, pressing high and forcing mistakes from their opponents.

[It’s been a masterclass from AZ Alkmaar tonight,] Martin concluded. [Heerenveen are completely outclassed, and you get the sense this is a statement performance]

The scoreboard read 7-0, but AZ Alkmaar looked like they weren’t done yet.

The ball was in Heerenveen’s half yet again, and it was only a matter of time before AZ Alkmaar found another opening.

Beerens received a switch of play from Adam on the right flank, he took a sharp first touch to keep the ball close as he darted toward the touchline.

His marker, van Anholt, was tight on him but Beerens wasn’t about to give up the space. He feinted a quick drop of his shoulder to fake a stop and then a sudden burst of pace sent him flying past the defender.

[There he goes, Beerens with that electric acceleration!] Martin exclaimed.

Beerens reached the byline and, with little room to maneuver, he whipped in a cross.

The ball sliced through the air, aiming for the crowded penalty area. Nordfeldt anticipated the danger, stepping off his line and punching the ball away with both fists.

[Good goalkeeping there from Nordfeldt,] Dirk said. [But where’s it going to land?]

The clearance didn’t go that far but was just a few yards outside the 18-yard box were Benjamin was waiting with his body perfectly positioned for the ball’s descent.

His eyes stayed locked on it, and his movements were fluid, almost rehearsed. He stepped forward and unleashed a thunderous volley with his right foot.

The strike was pure power. The ball sliced through the air like a mini missile, curling slightly as it rocketed toward the top corner.

[OH MY WORD!] Martin’s voice cracked. [WHAT A HIT!]

The net bulged violently as the ball crashed in, leaving Nordfeldt frozen mid-landing.

For a moment, the entire stadium seemed to pause, the sheer audacity of the strike taking everyone’s breath away. Then, as if ignited by an invisible spark, the AFAS Stadion exploded into chaos.

GOAAAAL!~

[Unbelievable!] Dirk shouted over the roar. [That’s an absolute screamer from Benjamin!]

[From 25 yards out, and he hit it with so much power and precision,] Martin added, barely able to contain his excitement. [The technique on that volley—Exceptional!!!]

Benjamin sprinted toward the corner flag with his arms stretched wide as his teammates swarmed him. He even forgot to perform his celebration due to the sheer excitement and adrenaline of scoring such a worldie.

Altidore was the first to leap onto his back, followed by Adam and Henriksen, their cheers lost in the deafening noise of the crowd.

On the sidelines, Gertjan Verbeek threw both fists into the air, his usually stoic face split into a wide grin. He clapped enthusiastically, turning to his coaching staff with an expression that seemed to say, Did you see that?!

[Look at Verbeek,] Dirk chuckled. [He knows that’s a goal you’ll replay for years to come]

In the opposite technical area, Marco van Basten’s reaction was the polar opposite. He pressed a hand to his face with his shoulders sagging.

For a man who had scored many great goals himself, watching his team be on the receiving end of such a masterpiece was almost too much to bear.

Benjamin!~ Benjamin!~

The AZ Alkmaar fans were on their feet, chanting Benjamin’s name. Some waved scarves in the air; others clutched their heads in disbelief, as though trying to process what they’d just witnessed.

[Take a bow, young man,] Martin said as the replay showed the goal from multiple angles. [The timing, the precision—it’s the kind of goal you dream about as a kid]

[He’s only 17,] Dirk reminded. [Just imagine what he’s going to do in a few years. This is special from the young lad. Haarlem has produced a monster in Benjamin Rijkaard]

Even the Heerenveen fans, though largely subdued, couldn’t help but offer a smattering of applause for the sheer quality of the strike. It was a rare moment where skill transcended team loyalty.

[That’s Benjamin’s second goal of the night, and you get the feeling he’s not done yet,] Martin said. [He’s playing with such confidence—it’s like he’s in his own world]

[He’s been the standout player in a team full of standouts,] Dirk replied. [This is a statement performance from AZ Alkmaar, but it’s Benjamin who’s stealing the show]

The scoreboard now read 8-0, and the AFAS Stadion felt like it might burst from the sheer energy of the home fans.