In the 40th minute, AZ Alkmaar surged forward again.
Henriksen, who was controlling the midfield, slipped a clever through-ball to Berghuis, who had darted into space on the right flank.
[This looks promising for AZ Alkmaar!] the lead comntator said, his excitent growing.
Berghuis took one touch to steady himself and unleashed a low drive aid for the far corner of the goalpost.
The ball skidded across the moist turf, zipping past the outstretched leg of Samba, who attempted to block the ball.
[Gabulov’s beaten! Berghuis—oh no!] the co-comntator exclaid.
The ball grazed the outside of the post and went out for a goal kick. Berghuis clutched his head in his hands, clearly frustrated as he jogged back into position.
[He had Gabulov scrambling there. Just inches wide! AZ Alkmaar are getting closer,] the lead comntator remarked.
[But in gas like this, "close" doesn’t count. They need to find that clinical edge, and make sothing count] the co-comntator replied.
Three minutes later, Anzhi Makhachkala responded.
Willian picked up the ball near the halfway line and sprinted down the left flank, his pace forcing Marcellis to backpedal in pursuit.
Willian made a cut inside, and the ball sneakily rolled through the pursuing Marcellis’ legs.
[WOAH! A cheeky nutg from Willian, and Marcellis is left behind] the lead comntator said with much amusent that mirrored everyone watching.
After dribbling past Marcellis, Willian threaded a perfectly tid pass to Lacina Traoré, who peeled away from his marker, Gorter.
[Traoré is in! This could be dangerous!] the lead comntator yelled.
Traoré controlled the ball expertly, his long stride carrying him into the box. As Alvarado rushed out to close the angle, Traoré attempted to chip the ball over the goalkeeper.
[Traoré—what a chance! Oh, he’s missed it!] the co-comntator exclaid, incredulous.
The ball arched beautifully but sailed just over the bar, brushing the roof of the net. Traoré slapped the ground in frustration, while the AZ Alkmaar supporters collectively exhaled in relief.
[That could’ve been ga over for AZ Alkmaar,] the lead comntator noted. [Traoré had the ti and space, but he couldn’t capitalize. A huge let-off for the ho side]
In the 45th minute, Benjamin found himself in the spotlight again.
Picking up a pass from Martens on the left wing, he drove forward, his quick feet leaving Ewerton behind once more.
[Benjamin’s been a thorn in Anzhi Makhachkala’s side all night, and here he goes again!] the lead comntator shouted.
As Benjamin entered the box, Samba ca across to challenge, but Benjamin feigned right before cutting left.
With the angle tightening, he went for a powerful strike with his left foot, aid toward the near post.
[Gabulov again! What a reaction save!] the co-comntator bellowed.
The ball rebounded off the goalkeeper’s gloves and spun toward Altidore, who was lurking nearby. Before he could react, Joao Carlos cleared it decisively into the stands.
[How many tis are we going to say Gabulov’s na tonight? He’s keeping Anzhi Makhachkala in this match single-handedly!] the lead comntator marveled.
[He’s putting on a goalkeeping clinic, no doubt about it,] the co-comntator agreed. [But you have to wonder—can he keep this up for another 45 minutes?]
As the clock struck 45, the fourth official raised the board: 5 minutes.
[Five added minutes! Plenty of ti for either side to make their mark before the break,] the lead comntator observed.
[And what a first half it’s been—drama, missed chances, and world-class saves. It’s all here tonight,] the co-comntator added.
The minutes of added ti ticked by, and the tension in the stadium grew thicker with every passing second.
AZ Alkmaar pushed forward relentlessly, their determination to equalize burning brighter than ever.
In the fifth minute of added ti, the breakthrough finally ca.
[Elm with the tackle! He’s won the ball cleanly off Jucilei deep in AZ Alkmaar’s half!] the lead comntator shouted, his voice brimming with excitent.
The Swede International wasted no ti, springing to his feet and sending a laser-accurate pass upfield.
[And there’s the direct ball to Henriksen. AZ Alkmaar on the counter now!]
Henriksen picked up the pass with a deft first touch, his head imdiately scanning for options as he sprinted forward. The crowd’s roar grew louder with every stride he took forward.
[Lassana Diarra’s closing him down! Can Henriksen get rid of it in ti?]
As Diarra lunged toward him, Henriksen lifted his head and quickly spotted Altidore’s run into the 18-yard box.
Without breaking stride, he chipped the ball over the defensive line, and the ball soared over the defenders in a graceful arc towards Alvarado’s path.
[Henriksen loops it forward—what a ball! Altidore’s through on goal!] the co-comntator exclaid.
The stadium collectively held its breath as Gabulov, the man who had been a wall all night, charged off his line with his focus completely locked on the incoming danger.
[Here cos Gabulov! Altidore with a fake shot—he’s gone past him!]
Altidore’s body feint sent the goalkeeper sprawling to the wrong direction, but his outstretched leg clipped the striker as he tried to recover.
Fweeee!~
Like music to the ears of the AZ Alkmaar fans, the referee’s whistle pierced through the tension, sharp and decisive. A second later, his arm extended, pointing directly to the penalty spot.
[PENALTY! It’s a penalty for AZ Alkmaar in the dying monts of the first half!] the lead comntator bellowed.
The reactions in the AFAS Stadion was imdiate and explosive.
On the touchline, Gertjan Verbeek clenched his fists and pumped them into the air, his face alight with raw emotion.
[You can see what that ans to him. Gertjan Verbeek has been willing his players forward, and now, they’ve got a lifeline!] the co-comntator remarked.
Guus Hiddink, anwhile, showed a calm expression, though his tightly folded arms betrayed the frustration brewing beneath his composed exterior.
He leaned toward his assistant in a conversation, shaking his head in silent disapproval of the referee’s decision.
Altidore!~ Altidore!~
The ho fans erupted in a cacophony of cheers, their hope reignited as they chanted Altidore’s na.
BOOOO!~
On the other side, the Anzhi Makhachkala supporters jeered loudly, their protests echoing across the stadium.
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