Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 96: A Goal Behind

Chapter 96: A Goal Behind

Clang!!!

The ball smashed against the crossbar with a deafening thud, sending a shiver through the entire stadium.

It rebounded violently, spinning toward the edge of the box.

[Off the bar! Unbelievable! AZ Alkmaar survive, but for how long?] the co-commentator exclaimed, barely catching his breath.

Before anyone could react, Samuel Eto’o pounced. He was positioned perfectly at the edge of the penalty area, and his goal scoring instincts took over.

He struck the ball first-time with the side of his boot, his technique flawless.

The ball zipped through the crowd of players in a blur of motion that left everyone rooted in place.

Alvarado managed to react and he dove woth his fingertips outstretched, but it was hopeless. The net bulged with a resounding snap as the ball nestled into the top corner.

[Goal! Samuel Eto’o! He’s done it! What a finish! Anzhi Makhachkala take the lead in this second-leg encounter!] the lead commentator roared, his voice drowning in the eruption of cheers from the away fans.

GOOAAAAL!~

The Anzhi Makhachkala supporters in the corner of the stadium leapt to their feet, their arms waving wildly as they chanted Eto’o’s name.

The players swarmed the Cameroonian forward, their celebrations a combination of fist pumps and shouts of jubilation.

On the other side of the pitch, the AZ Alkmaar fans slumped in unison, groans of despair rippling through the stands.

Alvarado sat motionless on the turf, his head bowed, his hands clutching his knees.

[What a moment for the 31 year old! Eto’o with the precision and composure of a world-class striker. That’s why you pay the big bucks for players like him,] the co-commentator said, his voice full of admiration.

On the touchline, Guus Hiddink allowed himself a wide, satisfied smile. He clapped his hands twice, nodding at his players as if to say, "Job well done."

In contrast, Gertjan Verbeek was a picture of frustration.

He spun around, hollering the mistakes of his defenders to his assistant before throwing his hands up in exasperation.

His jaw tightened as he glanced at the clock which showed 32 minutes into the first-half, and his mind raced for solutions.

[This is a gut punch for AZ Alkmaar. They’ve dominated much of this first half, but one lapse, and Anzhi Makhachkala punish them,] the lead commentator said.

[That’s the danger of a side with players like Eto’o. They only need one chance, and they’ll make you pay,] the co-commentator added.

As the players reset for the restart, the stadium buzzed with a mix of disbelief and nervous energy.

AZ Alkmaar had been in control, but now, they were chasing the game. The pressure was on, and the stakes couldn’t be higher.

Fweeee!~

The referee’s whistle cut through the noise, signaling the restart of play.

AZ Alkmaar hurriedly took possession, their urgency apparent as the ball zipped from one player to the next.

AZ!~ AZ!~ AZ!~

The crowd, still reeling from Eto’o’s goal, tried to rally their team with a chorus of cheers and chants.

[Well, it’s simple now for Anzhi Makhachkala,] the lead commentator began. [If this scoreline holds, they’re through to the Europa League group stages on the away goals rule. AZ Alkmaar need to score at home, and they need to do it quickly]

[Exactly,] the co-commentator agreed. [The first leg in Dagestan might have ended 2-1 to AZ Alkmaar, but that home goal from Samuel Eto’o is proving crucial now. You can sense the tension here in the AFAS Stadion—they know what’s at stake]

Benjamin received the ball on the left flank, his first touch settling the ball.

He turned on the ball while his eyes scanned for options, but Anzhi Makhachkala’s defense had dropped deep, forming an impenetrable wall to protect their 1-0 lead.

[And here’s Benjamin again,] the lead commentator said. [He’s been one of AZ Alkmaar’s brightest sparks tonight, constantly probing and looking for openings]

The young winger darted forward, skipping past Ewerton with a body feint and a burst of pace.

The crowd roared in anticipation, but just as Benjamin prepared to whip in a cross, Samba slid in with a perfectly timed tackle, sending the ball out for a throw-in.

[That’s the experience of Chris Samba, right there,] the co-commentator noted. [He might’ve been beaten earlier, but he’s not making the same mistake twice. Brilliant defending]

Benjamin slapped his hands together in frustration before jogging to retrieve the ball for the throw-in. His teammates were already repositioning, their determination etched across their faces.

On the touchline, Gertjan Verbeek was a whirlwind of motion. He gestured wildly, shouting instructions to his players.

His voice cut through the din of the crowd, urging his team to press higher and move the ball faster.

[You can see Gertjan Verbeek’s frustration,] the lead commentator said. [He knows time isn’t on their side. AZ Alkmaar need to find a way past this resolute Anzhi Makhachkala defense]

Meanwhile, Guus Hiddink remained outwardly composed with his arms crossed as he observed the proceedings.

Occasionally, he leaned toward his assistant, murmuring instructions, but his calm demeanor stood in stark contrast to Gertjan Verbeek’s agitation.

[Guus Hiddink looks like a man in control, doesn’t he?] the co-commentator remarked. [His game plan is working perfectly so far. Anzhi Makhachkala are compact, disciplined, and looking dangerous on the counter]

The game resumed with AZ Alkmaar pushing forward relentlessly.

Henriksen and Martens combined neatly in midfield, their quick exchanges pulling Anzhi Makhachkala’s defenders out of position.

In the 37th minute, the ball found its way to Martens on the edge of the box, who unleashed a curling shot aimed for the top corner.

[Martens! Can he find the equalizer?] the lead commentator shouted.

Gabulov, once again, was up to the task. The Anzhi Makhachkala goalkeeper flung himself to his left, his fingertips brushing the ball just enough to divert it over the bar.

[Another stunning save from Gabulov! He’s been phenomenal tonight!] the co-commentator exclaimed.

The home fans erupted in frustration, their voices a mixture of groans and applause for the effort.

Benjamin stood near the corner flag, ready to take the set piece. He raised his hand, signaling his teammates before delivering a looping cross into the box.

The ball swerved dangerously, but Samba rose highest again, heading it clear.

The rebound fell to Berghuis, who volleyed it back toward goal, but the shot lacked power and Gabulov collected it comfortably.

[It’s wave after wave of AZ Alkmaar attacks, but Anzhi Makhachkala are standing firm,] the lead commentator said. [This is turning into a test of nerves for both sides]

As the first half edged closer to its conclusion, the energy in the stadium remained electric.

Every touch, every pass, and every challenge was met with a collective gasp or cheer from the crowd.

[You have to wonder,] the co-commentator said, his tone contemplative. [How much longer can AZ Alkmaar keep this intensity? If they don’t score soon, desperation could creep in]

[And that’s when Anzhi Makhachkala will pounce,] the lead commentator added. [They’ve been clinical with their chances so far, and with players like Eto’o, Traoré, and Willian up front, they’ll always be a threat]