Fweeeee!~
The referee glanced around the field one last ti before blowing his whistle to restart the ga.
The energy in the stadium was palpable, and the roar of the ho fans pushed AZ Alkmaar forward as if willing them to strike back imdiately.
Benjamin, now fully upright, took his position on the left wing. His expression was steely, and his jaw clenched as he focused on the task at hand.
The ball rolled to Henriksen in midfield, who imdiately looked up and played a diagonal pass toward Benjamin.
[They’re not wasting any ti here,] the lead comntator said as Benjamin trapped the ball with a deft touch. [AZ Alkmaar want to make a statent]
[And who better than Benjamin to deliver it? He’s been the spark in their attack all night,] the co-comntator replied.
Benjamin quickly sized up his options ahead. Ewerton, still embarrassed from being humiliated earlier, was once again in his path. The Brazilian defender crouched low, ready to pounce on any mistake.
The teenager shifted his weight slightly to his right, feinting a move before cutting sharply to his left.
Ewerton followed, buying the move and his feet tangled for a mont as Benjamin sped past him down the flank.
[There he goes again! Ewerton just can’t keep up,] the lead comntator exclaid.
The ho crowd rose to their feet, their voices rising in unison as Benjamin surged toward the corner of the box.
Lassana Diarra lood ahead, clearly looking to redeem himself for the earlier tackle.
Benjamin didn’t hesitate. With a couple stepovers, he pushed the ball past Diarra’s right side and darted to his left, his acceleration leaving the midfielder flat-footed.
[That’s class from Benjamin! Diarra’s been left in the dust!] the co-comntator shouted, his excitent evident.
The teenager lifted his head, scanning the 18-yard box.
Henriksen and Berghuis were making inside runs to join Alvarado, both battling for position against Anzhi Makhachkala’s towering center-backs.
Benjamin whipped in a low cross, the inside of his left boot eting it with pinpoint accuracy, the ball zipping past Samba’ and Joao Carlos’ outstretched legs, and straight into Berghuis’s path.
"Hit it!" soone yelled from the stands.
Berghuis didn’t need the encouragent. He t the cross with his right foot, striking it cleanly toward the near post.
But Anzhi Makhachkala’s goalkeeper, Vladimir Gabulov, was equal to the task. He dove sharply to his left with his arms outstretched.
His fingertips just barely brushing the ball, diverting it from its intended path to send it out for a corner.
[What a save! Gabulov keeps Anzhi Makhachkala in it!] the lead comntator shouted as the crowd groaned in unison.
[That’s a top-class save, but what about that delivery from Benjamin? He’s putting it on a plate for his teammates,] the co-comntator added.
The cara panned to Benjamin, who clapped his hands in frustration before jogging to take the ensuing corner.
On the sidelines, Gertjan Verbeek was on his feet, gesturing animatedly toward his players to keep the pressure on.
Across from him, Guus Hiddink remained calm, though his furrowed brow betrayed his concern.
[You can see the difference in the two managers right now,] the lead comntator observed. [Gertjan Verbeek is urging his team to attack, while Guus Hiddink looks like he’s plotting his next move]
Benjamin placed the ball carefully in the corner arc, his eyes scanning the crowded penalty area.
Fweeee!
The referee blew his whistle, signaling for the corner to proceed.
[This could be the mont for AZ Alkmaar,] the co-comntator said, his voice filled with anticipation.
Benjamin stepped back, took a deep breath, and swung his left foot through the ball. It arched high and fast toward the center of the box, where the players of both teams jostled for position.
Martens rose highest this ti, eting the ball with a powerful header that rocketed toward the top corner.
[Martens! This has to be it!] the lead comntator yelled.
But once again, Gabulov was there. He leapt with outstretched arms, tipping the ball over the bar in a last-ditch effort.
[Unbelievable save! Gabulov is keeping Anzhi Makhachkala in this ga single-handedly!] the co-comntator exclaid.
The ho crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and groans, their emotions swinging wildly with every twist of the ga.
Benjamin jogged back to position, shaking his head in disbelief but refusing to let his frustration show.
[He’s relentless, this kid,] the lead comntator said, a note of admiration in his voice. [You get the feeling it’s only a matter of ti before he breaks through]
[And when he does, this place will absolutely erupt,] the co-comntator replied as the ga resud with another wave of AZ Alkmaar attack.
***
As if fueled by the referee’s controversial decision, AZ Alkmaar players montarily abandoned their carefully laid-out ga plan.
They pressed high up the pitch, their movents were urgent and aggressive, hunting in packs to win the ball back as quickly as possible.
Anzhi Makhachkala struggled to find their rhythm under the relentless pressure. Their passes were rushed, touches beca heavy, and errors began to creep into their play.
In the 22nd minute, their resolve cracked.
Elm, who was sharp and alert in midfield, pounced on a loose pass from Jucilei. He imdiately picked up Henriksen up front an laid a direct pass to him.
Henriksen controlled the ball and turned to evade his marker, Shatov, before surging forward with his head up, and scanning for options.
Altidore made a run to his right, dragging Samba out of position. But it was Benjamin, hugging the left touchline, who caught Henriksen’s eye.
[AZ Alkmaar have turned up the heat, and they’ve won it back in a dangerous area!] the lead comntator said, his voice rising.
[They’ve been knocking on the door. Could this be the mont?] the co-comntator added.
Henriksen threaded a perfect long ball into Benjamin’s path.
The teenager controlled it effortlessly with his chest, and let the ball roll down which was then glued to right foot as he charged toward the edge of the box.
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