Benjamin took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders as he lined up the intended path of his shot.
The crowd behind the goal buzzed with anticipation, their voices rising in a steady hum.
Nienhuis positioned his wall carefully, shouting last-second instructions. Four SC Veendam players stood shoulder to shoulder as the wall, shifting uneasily as they prepared to jump.
[This is it,] Mike said, his voice brimming with anticipation. [Benjamin Rijkaard, standing over the ball. He’s rattled the woodwork twice already. Could this be the one that puts AZ Alkmaar ten goals ahead?]
The co-comntator let out a small chuckle. [He’s been knocking, Mike. Sooner or later, sothing’s got to give]
Benjamin took four asured steps back, his eyes locked on the target.
The stadium seed to hold its breath as he began the run up. He planted his left foot beside the ball and struck it cleanly with his right.
Fwip!~
The ball soared over the wall with pace and enough lift, spinning viciously as it dipped toward the top left corner.
[It’s curling—]
Nienhuis reacted instantly, springing to his right, his fingers stretching toward the ball. The AZ Alkmaar fans behind the goal were already half out of their seats.
THWACK!
The ball crashed against the underside of the crossbar.
Gasps echoed through the stadium as it bounced downward—just over the line before rocketing back up into the roof of the net.
[GOOOOOAAAL!] Mike’s voice erupted over the speakers. [Benjamin Rijkaard has done it!]
GOOOOOAAAAALLLLL!!!~
The stadium exploded. Fans leaped to their feet, fists pumping in the air as the AZ Alkmaar players sward Benjamin near the edge of the 18 yard box.
[Would you believe that?!] the co-comntator laughed in disbelief. [After all those near misses, he finally gets his cup debut goal—and what a way to do it!]
Benjamin let out a roar, fists clenched as he was mobbed by his teammates. Adam was the first to reach him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him with excitent. Berghuis clapped him on the back, grinning from ear to ear.
[That is so free kick,] Mike said, still in awe. [He’s hit the bar three tis tonight, and this ti, it goes in off the underside. Unstoppable!]
The cara zood in on Nienhuis, who sat on the ground, shaking his head. He had done everything right, but there was simply no saving that.
Tonight’s undoubtedly going to be the worst night in his footballing career.
[You have to feel for Nienhuis,] the co-comntator added. [He got close, but that was struck perfectly. No goalkeeper in the world stops that one]
As the replay played on the big screen, showing the ball crossing the line in slow motion, the AZ Alkmaar fans erupted once more.
Benjamin jogged back toward his half with a satisfied smile on his face. He had waited for this mont, and now, he had his debut goal.
[That will feel good,] Mike said. [His first KNVB Beker goal in an AZ Alkmaar shirt. And with a strike like that, it won’t be his last]
[Mark my words, Mike,] his partner added. [This kid is special]
Fweeee!~
The ga restarted, but the energy in the stadium had shifted.
AZ Alkmaar had scored their tenth goal, and with Benjamin finally on the scoresheet, the night felt complete for a few ho fans. But like every other football enthusiast’s fantasy, they’d be hoping for AZ Alkmaar to keep on pulling the trigger on every arsenal they had available.
It didn’t need to be said as it was written all over their bodies. Looking battered and demoralized, SC Veendam restarted play with a short pass from the center circle.
Their players moved forward, but their energy was drained, their shoulders sagging under the weight of the scoreline.
[You have to wonder what’s going through their minds right now,] Mike said, his voice tinged with sympathy. [They’ve been completely outclassed tonight]
[It’s tough, Mike,] his partner agreed. [At this point, you’re just playing for pride and the sake of it. But with AZ Alkmaar pressing like this, even that’s a challenge]
Benjamin, still riding the adrenaline of his goal, sprinted forward to apply pressure. His presence alone forced SC Veendam’s midfielder into a rushed pass—a weak one that Adam read with ease.
[Look at the hunger from AZ Alkmaar,] Mike noted. [Even with the ga wrapped up, they’re still chasing every ball]
Adam intercepted and imdiately turned upfield, his eyes scanning for movent ahead.
Berghuis darted into space down the right, signaling for the pass. Adam obliged, threading a long diagonal ball between the defenders.
[Here cos AZ Alkmaar again,] the co-comntator said, a hint of excitent creeping back into his voice. [Steven Berghuis is on the move!]
Berghuis controlled it in stride, his first touch immaculate. He drove toward the byline, teasing his marker with a quick shift of his hips before cutting inside. The AZ Alkmaar fans roared in anticipation.
[He’s got options in the box—Fernando Lewis is lurking, Benjamin’s arriving late!]
Berghuis feinted another step inside before whipping a low cross into the six-yard area. Lewis lunged, his slim but tall fra towering over the defender, but Nienhuis managed to punch the ball away—straight into Benjamin’s path at the edge of the 18 yard box.
[Oh, here we go again!] Mike shouted, his excitent building. [Benjamin Rijkaard, on the volley—]
Without hesitation, Benjamin swung his right boot, catching the ball sweetly. It rocketed toward goal, but at the last mont, an SC Veendam defender threw himself in the way, deflecting it just over the bar.
[What a block! That was heading straight for the net!]
[Unbelievable commitnt,] the co-comntator added. [They’re 10-0 down, and he’s still throwing his body in the way. That’s what football is about]
Benjamin let out a sharp exhale, placing his hands on his hips as he watched the replay on the big screen. It had been inches away from his second.
[He wanted that one,] Mike said with a chuckle. [You can see it in his face]
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