Football singularity
Chapter 542 - 542 Mo Salah

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[Date: 11/03/2020, Anfield, Liverpool, Attendance: 55,000][UEFA Champions League, Round of 16 – 2nd leg | Aggregate: Liverpool 2–4 Leverkusen]

[11]

The Anfield crowd, shell-shocked by Havertz's clinical finish, began to stir back to life. The famous You'll Never Walk Alone echoed around the stadium, but it carried a desperate edge now—Liverpool needed three goals to progress.

Jürgen Klopp prowled the touchline, his cap pulled low, gesturing frantically at his players. The German knew his side's European dream hung by the thinnest of threads.

"Liverpool restart, and they simply must throw caution to the wind now," Drury observed as Henderson rolled the ball back to Van Dijk. "Three goals needed, and Peter Bosz's Leverkusen side is looking supremely organised."

[14]

Following the restart, the Reds pushed forward with renewed urgency, the ball shifting swiftly across the wet grass. Mané dropped deep, collecting possession from Robertson's throw-in. The Senegalese winger's first touch was sublime, cushioning the ball before spinning past Diaby in one fluid motion.

The crowd sensed something building as Mané drove forward, his pace carrying him into the space beside the box as Sinkgraven moved to block his path inward. He faked a cut backwards with a drop of the shoulder, and he broke through to the byline. Tapsoba tried to interfere by closing down the angle, but Mane simply switched the ball to his left foot, sending the latter sliding.

Before the defender could react, he sent a sharp pass arcing back towards the penalty spot. "Firmino arriving—!" Clive Tyldesley's voice rose in anticipation.

The Brazilian forward darted forward, sensing an opportunity, but Tah was already lunging across the soaked turf, his sliding tackle meeting the ball just a fraction of a second before Firmino's boot connected. The ball looped upwards, spinning high above the box, hanging momentarily like a raindrop in the floodlit sky.

Salah charged to the ball's landing spot from the other side of the box, eyes locked on the descending ball. He adjusted his body, his standing foot digging into the turf as he drew his right foot back. He unleashed a thunderous volley goalward as the ball rocketed off his boot, slicing through the rain as it bounced off the turf.

Time seemed suspended as Hradecky desperately shuffled to his right, eyes wide with fear and anticipation. The entire Kop Stand leaned forward collectively, their hearts frozen mid-beat. "MO SALAH!" roared Peter Drury, voice cracking with excitement.

Hardeckey slid across his line on his knees, arms outstretched, only to pull them back at the last moment. The ball hit the side of the net harmlessly, flying out for a goal kick, sending a ripple of disappointment up the Kop stand. Lukas Hradecky exhaled visibly, wiping the rain from his brow as he picked up the ball for a goal kick.

The Liverpool players retreated quickly, without much fuss, and put little pressure on, barely missing the chance. The Kop raised their voices again, urging their team forward, refusing to relent.

Hradecky's kick arced through the air, finding Palacios in the middle of the field, who immediately nodded it forward into Havertz's path. The young German calmly touched it down, spinning away from Henderson's press, before spreading the play wide to Demirbay, who found space on the right flank. Quickly surging into the final third, he engaged in a physical battle with Robertson as he fought to retain control of the ball.

The battle ended with a Leverkusen throw-in when van Dijk came sliding in just as Demirbay had knocked the ball forward, looking to pick up speed. That tackle was clean, with the Dutch defender hitting nothing but the ball. Bender jogged forward to take the throw-in, briefly wiping the slick ball against his jersey before quickly tossing it into Baumgartlinger, who calmly chested it down.

[22']

As the match continued, Leverkusen's defensive discipline remained intact as they looked to retain the lead. But cracks were beginning to show under the Reds' relentless pressure. Diaby found himself isolated on the left wing, Liverpool's high press forcing him into hurried clearances.

The home side easily retained possession of the ball with a calm header from Gomez. Robertson knocked it into the middle for the retreating Oxlade-Chamberlain. The tall English midfielder turned with agility that belied his physique, easily brushing Kai to the side. A short passing sequence between the midfield trio saw them rebuild control as they easily crossed the halfway line.

"You can see the pressure mounting on Leverkusen," Drury noted as Demirbay's pass sailed harmlessly out for a Liverpool throw-in. "They're holding their shape, but for how long?"

"Indeed, this Liverpool under Klopp is simply too good to keep down for too long." Clive Tyldesley calmly intoned only to break out in a shout the next second. "Henderson with a through ball finds Mo Salah, and he finishes it."

The Kop erupted into a delirious frenzy as Salah raced towards the corner flag, his arms wide as he tapped his ear, soaking in the rain-drenched euphoria. The Egyptian King had arrived when Liverpool needed him most, and the fans let him feel their love. Sitting on the guardrail, he celebrated with the fans as the rest of his teammates joined in the celebration.

"We wondered whether he'd show up today, and he did so in classic Mo Salah fashion," Drury exclaimed as the replay was shown on screen.

It seemed like a routine passing sequence in the middle of the pitch as the home side's midfielder kept their opponents honest. However, just as the Leverkusen Central 3 were content with letting them retain possession with zonal marking, Henderson did something unexpected.

Just as Leverkusen's midfielders sagged back into shape, expecting Liverpool to recycle possession harmlessly, Jordan Henderson spotted the sliver of a gap behind Bender's left shoulder. With a quick glance and barely a backlift, the Liverpool captain threaded a perfectly weighted through ball along the slick grass—a rapier thrust into the heart of the German backline. The pass zipped past Palacios, curling ever so slightly into the space between Tapsoba and Sinkgraven's.

"Look at that vision from Henderson!" Clive Tyldesley cried.

Salah, timing his run to perfection, burst from the outside, slipping past Sinkgraven, who had turned his head in response to the approaching ball. The confusion between the two defenders allowed him to connect with the ball with a feather-soft touch. He barely needed a second touch as he opened his body and curled a low, venomous shot into the far corner beyond Hradecky's outstretched glove.

"The touch! The composure! The finish!" Peter Drury shouted, swept up in the storm of emotion. "It's Mo Salah, and the comeback is on!"

[GOAL – 23' Mo Salah | Liverpool 1–1 Bayer Leverkusen | Aggregate: 3–4]

The Anfield crowd erupted like thunder ripping through the mist. Red flares flared, scarves were tossed into the air, and the chant of Salah's name merged with thousands of voices singing in pure, unrelenting belief. Klopp turned and pumped his fists toward the crowd, yelling encouragement in a flurry of German and English.

[25']

Liverpool, energized by the goal, swarmed Leverkusen straight from the restart. Firmino dropped deeper into midfield to collect and link, creating space for the wingers to invert their runs. Mané cut inside from the left, playing a one-two with Wijnaldum before laying the ball off to Oxlade-Chamberlain, who let fly from distance.

The ball screamed off his boot as it took flight and dipped violently, arcing towards the goal. Hradecky was alert, though, and with the distance he had time to step across his goal and comfortably palm the incoming ball. Jumping into the air a second later, he caught the ball, whose momentum had been killed.

"Not troubled at all by the long-range attempt, Hradecky made that look easy," Peter Drury commented as the keeper sprang to the edge of the box, letting loose a cannon of a throw up the left flank aimed at Diaby.

Diaby had barely glanced over his shoulder before the ball was already on him—Hradecky's throw fizzing low and flat like a quarterback pass. He took it on the run, his first touch immaculate, cushioning it with the outside of his left boot and immediately bursting forward. His stride lengthened, eating up turf as he dashed down the left touchline, dancing between Alexander-Arnold and the retreating Wijnaldum.

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To Be Continued...