Viergever rose highest, muscles tensed as he t the ball with a thudding header. It was firm, downward, heading toward the bottom corner.
Chris: [Viergever... BLOCKED ON THE LINE!]
A Den Haag defender reacted just in ti, swinging a boot to clear it inches from crossing. The ball pinged back into the 18 yard box, bodies scrambling, legs flailing—
Rob: [Still alive—Altidore!]
Altidore threw himself forward, trying to poke it ho, but Coutinho was there again, smothering the ball just as the big striker lunged in.
Fweeeee!
The referee blew for a foul, signaling a free kick to Den Haag. Altidore sat on the grass for a mont, hands on his head, disbelief written all over his face.
Benjamin exhaled sharply. It was almost comical now.
Chris: [How have they not scored?]
Rob: [No idea. They’ve battered that goal, but Coutinho—what a first half he’s had!]
The Den Haag keeper slowly got up, taking his ti before launching the ball downfield.
The ball soared through the air, landing deep in AZ Alkmaar’s half. Reijnen rose, winning the header, nodding it back toward midfield. Henriksen controlled it, imdiately looking forward.
AZ Alkmaar weren’t slowing down. They wanted a goal before halfti.
Chris: [And here they co again! They’ve got ti for one more!]
Henriksen played a quick one-two with Elm, then spotted Altidore making a run behind the defense. He didn’t hesitate—he clipped a perfectly weighted pass over the top.
Rob: [That’s a great ball! Altidore’s in!]
Altidore powered forward, shrugging off his marker, the goal opening up in front of him. One touch to control, another to set—then he swung his right foot through the ball.
Chris: [Altidore... HAS TO SCORE—!]
The shot flashed wide.
Gasps from the crowd. A collective groan. Altidore stood frozen, hands on his head, eyes locked on the ball as it rolled past the far post.
Rob: [Oh no! That was the mont!]
Benjamin leaned forward, his jaw tightening. That had to go in.
Chris: [You put your money on him there! He does everything right—the run, the strength—but the finish...]
Altidore turned away, frustrated, shaking his head as he jogged back.
Rob: [That might just sum up AZ Alkmaar’s first half. Dominant, dangerous, but no goal to show for it]
Den Haag took the goal kick quickly, looking to push forward before the half ended.
The ball was worked through midfield, where Chery dropped deep to receive it. He turned sharply, skipping past Henriksen before driving toward the edge of the 18 yard box.
Chris: [Den Haag looking for a late chance here—Chery’s got space!]
AZ Alkmaar’s defense scrambled. Guðmundsson stepped in, tracking the run, but Chery was too quick.
A heavy touch sent the ball rolling toward the edge of the 18-yard box, and Guðmundsson lunged in.
Rob: [Oh, that’s a clumsy one—]
Fweeeee!
The referee’s whistle cut through the air as Chery went down hard with his arms spread wide.
The Den Haag bench jumped up in protest, but the referee was already reaching into his pocket.
Chris: [That’s a foul, and it’s right on the edge of the 18 yard box!]
Rob: [Guðmundsson just mistid it. He had to get that right, and he didn’t.]
Guðmundsson raised a hand, shaking his head as the referee flashed a yellow card in his direction. He looked toward his teammates, frustration clear on his face.
Benjamin leaned forward, jaw clenched. This was dangerous.
Chris: [Well, well... talk about a twist before halfti. Ado Den Haag with a free kick in a perfect position!]
The AZ Alkmaar players lined up their wall as Den Haag’s set-piece takers gathered around the ball. The referee paced out the distance, making sure the wall was set.
Rob: [This could be a ga-changer. AZ Alkmaar should be ahead, but now they might find themselves behind.]
Benjamin exhaled slowly. They had dominated the half, but football wasn’t always fair. Now they had to hold their breath.
The fourth official walked to the sideline, raising the electronic board. 3 minutes. A murmur rippled through the crowd. There was still ti.
Chris: [Three added minutes! Can AZ Alkmaar hold on here?]
Chery placed the ball down, taking a few steps back. His eyes flicked toward the goal, scanning Alvarado’s position.
The AZ Alkmaar goalkeeper shouted instructions, waving at his wall to stay firm.
Rob: [Chery’s got a great strike on him. This is right in his range.]
The referee took one last glance, then blew his whistle.
Fweeee!
Chris: [Here he cos...]
Chery ran up, struck the ball cleanly—it curled over the wall, dipping sharply.
THWACK!
The ball smashed against the goalpost, rattling the fra. Gasps filled the stadium. Alvarado twisted mid-air, landing just as the ball ricocheted back into play—
Rob: [Off the post—rebound!]
Bodies rushed forward. AZ Alkmaar’s defenders reacted late. The loose ball dropped to a Den Haag player, who lunged in—
Chris: [It’s in!!!]
GOOAAAAALLLL!!!~
The net bulged and the ho fans erupted.
Rob: [Oh, that is cruel! AZ Alkmaar have dominated this half, and now they’re behind!]
The goalscorer sprinted away with his arms wide, teammates piling onto him in celebration. anwhile, AZ Alkmaar’s players stood frozen with hands on their heads.
Benjamin closed his eyes, exhaling sharply.
Chris: [Football is brutal. One chance. One goal. And AZ Alkmaar are trailing at halfti.]
Alvarado sat on the ground for a mont, staring at the ball in the net.
The noise around him blurred—Den Haag players celebrating, the away fans roaring, AZ Alkmaar defenders exchanging frustrated looks.
Rob: [You have to say, it’s against the run of play. AZ Alkmaar have had chance after chance, but Den Haag take their one big mont of the ga]
Chris: [And right on the stroke of halfti!]
Alvarado finally got to his feet, shaking his head. He grabbed the ball and booted it upfield in frustration. The referee glanced at his watch.
Fweeee!~ Fweeeee!~
Chris: [And there’s the whistle! The first half cos to an end, and AZ Alkmaar sohow find themselves behind!]
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