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Henriksen trotted back to the corner flag, his expression determined as he placed the ball with precision.

The AZ Alkmaar players clustered tightly near the penalty spot, their movents calculated as they prepared for yet another assault on the PSV goal.

[This is like a chess match in the box,] Mike observed, his voice tinged with excitent. [Look at the way they’re positioning themselves—it’s all about timing now]

Henriksen raised his arm, signaling his intent, before delivering a lofted cross that arced toward the penalty area.

The ball hung in the air, the tension palpable as players leapt and jostled for the perfect connection.

[Here it cos! Who’s going to get on the end of it?] Mike exclaid.

The ball deflected awkwardly off Bouma’s head, spinning into the middle of a chaotic cluster of players.

For a mont, it was pure mayhem—a flurry of boots, shins, and desperate lunges from the players of both teams.

[It’s pinball in there!] the co-comntator shouted. [Nobody’s got control!]

Amid the scrimmage, Benjamin reacted quickest. The ball ricocheted toward him, and he pounced, striking it cleanly on the half-volley.

The shot was low and fierce, but as it tore through the crowd, it struck the outstretched arm of Marcelo, who had turned his body in an attempt to block.

[Did that hit an arm?] Mike cried out, his voice rising in disbelief. [Surely that’s a penalty!]

The AZ Alkmaar players erupted in protest, their arms raised as they surrounded the referee.

Benjamin was at the forefront, pointing emphatically toward Marcelo’s arm, his face a mixture of frustration and disbelief.

[That looked clear as day,] the co-comntator said, his tone incredulous. [How has the referee missed that?]

The referee remained unyielding amidst the uproar. He gestured for play to continue, shaking his head as he signaled that he hadn’t seen the handball.

[No penalty, says the referee!] Mike exclaid, the disbelief evident in his voice. [He’s waved it away—he’s saying he didn’t see it!]

[But how could he not?] his partner countered, his tone sharp. [It was right in front of him!]

The PSV players took the opportunity to clear their lines, Marcelo hoofing the ball upfield as the AZ Alkmaar players continued their protests.

Benjamin threw his arms up in exasperation before jogging back into position, his expression grim but focused.

[You can understand the frustration from AZ Alkmaar,] Mike said. [That looked like a clear handball, but if the referee doesn’t see it, it doesn’t exist in his eyes]

[It’s a tough one for AZ Alkmaar,] the co-comntator agreed. [They’ve been knocking on the door, but decisions like that can completely shift the montum]

The replay on the big screen drew gasps from the crowd, clearly showing the ball striking Marcelo’s arm as it blocked Benjamin’s shot.

The AZ Alkmaar fans erupted into boos, their discontent echoing through the stadium.

[Well, the replay makes it clear,] Mike said, his voice tinged with frustration. [But of course, the referee doesn’t have the luxury of seeing that]

[Still, Mike, you’d expect a top-level official to catch that,] his partner added. [AZ Alkmaar will feel hard done by, and rightfully so]

The protests from the players only intensified.

Jozy Altidore, visibly incensed, stord toward the referee, gesturing wildly and shouting his grievances.

Elm quickly joined him, his usually calm deanor replaced by uncharacteristic fury as he pointed repeatedly at the spot where the handball had occurred.

[The AZ Alkmaar players aren’t letting this go,] Mike noted, his tone serious. [You can see how much they believe they’ve been wronged]

[They’ve got every right to feel aggrieved, but they need to be careful,] the co-comntator warned. [The referee’s patience only stretches so far]

The referee, clearly irritated by the disruption, held up his hands, signaling for the players to back off.

But Altidore and Elm were relentless despite Martens’ efforts to calm them down, their voices cutting through the rising noise of the crowd.

[Altidore’s really giving the referee an earful here,] Mike observed. [And Elm’s not far behind him. This is getting heated]

The referee’s face darkened as he raised his whistle to his lips and issued a sharp, piercing blow.

Fweeee!

His hand dipped into his pocket, and a mont later, he brandished a yellow card in Altidore’s direction.

[And there it is—a yellow for Altidore,] Mike said, shaking his head. [You could see that coming from a mile away]

[It’s a lesson in knowing when to stop, Mike,] the co-comntator added. [But it doesn’t look like the AZ Alkmaar players are learning it]

Elm, still arguing, beca the referee’s next target. Another blow of the whistle, and the yellow card was shown again, this ti to the midfielder.

[And now Elm’s in the book,] Mike continued. [The referee’s clearly had enough of the dissent]

BOOOOOO!!!~

The AZ Alkmaar fans erupted into boos, their frustration boiling over. The sound was deafening, a wall of discontent directed squarely at the man in yellow.

[The fans are letting the referee know exactly how they feel,] Mike said, his voice almost drowned out by the jeers. [And I can’t bla them]

[Neither can I,] his partner agreed. [The referee’s made a decision that’s changed the tone of this ga, and the AZ Alkmaar fans are furious about it]

As the boos continued to rain down, the PSV players quickly restarted play, taking advantage of the montary lapse in AZ Alkmaar’s focus.

Jeremain Lens picked up the ball near the halfway line, darting forward with his usual speed.

[And look at this, PSV are wasting no ti,] Mike said, his tone rising. [They’re trying to catch AZ Alkmaar off guard]

Lens sprinted down the flank, but Gorter was quick to react, stepping in with a perfectly tid sliding tackle to dispossess the PSV winger.

[That’s excellent from Gorter!] the co-comntator shouted. [AZ Alkmaar needed that—they can’t afford to lose their heads now]

The AZ Alkmaar players began to regroup, their focus slowly returning, but the frustration was still evident on their faces.

Benjamin, hands on his hips, cast a lingering glare at the referee before turning back to the ga.

[They need to channel this frustration into their performance,] Mike said. [There’s still a lot of football to be played, and AZ Alkmaar can’t let this decision derail them]

[Exactly, Mike,] his partner agreed. [They’ve been the better side so far—they just need to stay calm and keep pushing]

The AZ Alkmaar fans, though still vocal in their displeasure, began to turn their energy back toward supporting their team, their chants growing louder as the players pressed forward once more.

[This ga is far from over,] Mike concluded. [But AZ Alkmaar will need to dig deep if they want to co out on top after a mont like that]

You are reading Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King Chapter 142: Referee’s Momentary Blindness [Bonus] on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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