Benjamin picked up the ball on the left flank, his marker, Zuiverloon, already hesitating.
He took a quick glance toward the box and it revealed Altidore lurking near the penalty spot, but Benjamin had other plans. With a sudden burst of pace, he skipped past Zuiverloon, leaving the defender lunging at thin air.
[Oh, he’s got him on toast again!] the first comntator exclaid as Benjamin closed in on the 18-yard box. [Zuiverloon can’t cope with the pace!]
Zor ca across to cover, but Benjamin shifted the ball to his right at the last mont. Zor’s montum carried him forward, and his trailing leg clipped Benjamin’s ankle.
The young winger crumpled to the turf and the referee blew his whistle sharply while pointing to the spot.
Fweeee!~
[Penalty! No doubt about it,] the first comntator shouted, his voice rising with the roar of the crowd. [Benjamin’s been a nightmare for Heerenveen all night, and now he’s won his side a chance to make it three!]
[Zor just got it all wrong there,] the second comntator added, his tone sympathetic but firm. [It’s reckless. He was never getting to the ball, and now Heerenveen have an even steeper hill to climb]
The Heerenveen players surrounded the referee, pleading their case, but the official stood firm on his decision, pointing to the spot.
Replays on the stadium screens showed Zor’s clumsy challenge in painful clarity, drawing boos from the away fans and cheers from the AZ Alkmaar faithfuls.
On the pitch, Altidore, who was the penalty taker calmly stepped forward, placing the ball on the spot. Nordfeldt crouched low on his line with arms outstretched, and his eyes locked on the Arican striker.
[This is a big mont for Jozy Altidore,] the first comntator said as the tension in the stadium reached a fever pitch. [He’s already scored once tonight, and this could all but seal the ga for AZ Alkmaar.]
[But don’t count out Nordfeldt,] the second comntator replied. [He’s been Heerenveen’s best player by a mile. If anyone can keep them in this, it’s him]
Fweeee!~
The referee’s whistle pierced the air.
Altidore took a deep breath, and started his run-up. Nordfeldt waited, leaning slightly to his left while trying to read the striker’s intentions.
Altidore struck the ball cleanly, sending it low and hard to Nordfeldt’s right. The goalkeeper guessed correctly, diving full stretch, but the power and placent were too much. The ball nestled into the corner of the net.
GOAAAAL!~
The stadium erupted, a sea of red and white roaring in unison as Altidore wheeled away in celebration, fists pumping toward the sky. His teammates mobbed him near the corner flag, the joy on their faces unmistakable.
[Clinical from Altidore!] the first comntator shouted over the noise. [He’s made it 3-0, and surely that’s ga, set, and match for AZ Alkmaar!]
[You’ve got to feel for Nordfeldt,] the second comntator said, shaking his head. [He did everything he could, but sotis, the strike is just too good. And let’s not forget—it was Benjamin who earned that penalty with his brilliance]
The cara cut to the Heerenveen bench, where their manager sat slumped in his seat, his frustration evident.
On the pitch, Zor walked away with his head down while his teammates offered mute encouragent.
anwhile, Gertjan Verbeek was a stark contrast to the Heerenveen manager as he stood on the touchline, clapping enthusiastically and shouting instructions to his players. He wanted more, and his players were ready to deliver.
[AZ Alkmaar are relentless tonight,] the first comntator said as the scoreboard updated: AZ Alkmaar 3 - 0 Heerenveen. [This is a statent performance]
[Absolutely,] the second comntator agreed. [And with Benjamin pulling the strings and Altidore in this kind of form, they’re going to be a nightmare for any team they face this season]
The ga restarted and Heerenveen tried to rally after conceding the third goal.
Their midfield pressed higher, with de Roon and van den Berg exchanging quick passes to escape AZ Alkmaar’s suffocating press.
For a brief mont, it looked like they might break through. Finnbogason peeled off his marker while signaling for a ball over the top.
De Roon obliged, lofting a precise pass into the space ahead of Finnbogason. The striker surged forward, his eyes locked on the ball as it dropped toward him.
[Heerenveen with a rare chance here,] the first comntator said, leaning forward. [Finnbogason’s in so space!]
But just as Finnbogason prepared to control the ball, Elm appeared out of nowhere.
Timing his interception perfectly, the Swedish midfielder stretched out a leg and hooked the ball away before Finnbogason could even touch it.
[What an interception by Elm!] the second comntator exclaid. [That was vital. He read the play like a book]
Elm wasted no ti after winning the ball. Spotting Benjamin free on the left flank, he played a ground pass to the winger, who controlled it effortlessly.
The crowd buzzed with anticipation as Benjamin scanned the field, his head on a swivel.
[And here cos Benjamin again,] the first comntator said. [Every ti he’s on the ball, you feel like sothing’s about to happen]
Benjamin didn’t disappoint the crowd. He took a quick touch forward and then, without hesitation, unleashed a long, arching through ball toward the right flank.
The pass sailed over the heads of the scrambling defenders, perfectly placed for Berghuis, who was already sprinting into space.
[What a pass! Look at that vision!] the second comntator shouted. [Benjamin just split the entire defense with one ball!]
Berghuis took it in stride, his first touch pushing it ahead of him. With defenders scurrying back behind him, he drove into the box, the goal looming larger with every step he took.
Nordfeldt rushed off his line, looking desperate to close the angle, but Berghuis stayed composed. As the keeper lunged forward, Berghuis calmly chipped the ball over him.
Ti seed to slow down as the ball floated through the air. It dipped gracefully, kissing the underside of the crossbar before bouncing into the net.
GOAAAAL!~
The AFAS Stadion erupted in wild celebration. Berghuis raised his arms in celebration, a grin spreading across his face as his teammates rushed to embrace him.
[And that’s four for AZ Alkmaar!] the first comntator bellowed. [Berghuis with the cheekiest of finishes! What a goal, and what a ball from Benjamin to set it up!]
[That’s two goals in quick succession,] the second comntator added, his voice brimming with excitent. [Heerenveen are falling apart. AZ Alkmaar have just pulled off a double-quick fire, and surely they’re not done yet]
The cara captured Nordfeldt slamming the ground in frustration before cutting to the Heerenveen bench, where their manager buried his face in his hands.
On the other side, Gertjan Verbeek was jubilant, pumping his fists and shouting encouraging words to his team. On the pitch, Berghuis and Benjamin shared a quick high-five, their connection was undeniable.
[This is turning into a barbeque joint, Heerenveen are getting roasted. You can call it whatever texture you want, but hey, everyone’s getting their fill] the first comntator said as the scoreboard updated: AZ Alkmaar 4 - 0 Heerenveen. [It’s been a masterclass from AZ Alkmaar tonight, and Benjamin is at the heart of everything]
[He’s been unplayable,] the second comntator agreed. [And that assist—pure genius. It’s looking like a very long night for Heerenveen]
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