Raphael's goal gave Brighton a spark of hope. However, Dortmund didn't seem willing to back down. Their players imdiately resud their high pressure, like predators who sll fear.
In the technical area, Eddie was standing with his arms crossed. Next to him, Alex, the assistant coach, was making frantic notes in a notebook. He tilted his head in Eddie's direction and spoke in a low tone so that only he could hear.
"They're operating on ultra-fast transitions. Dahoud is the pivot of everything. When they press high and win the ball back, Dahoud distributes with precision. Look how he always has two passing options."
Eddie nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on Dahoud. "And their full-backs? They always go forward together. That leaves spaces at the back, but it also complicates our marking on the edges. They're overloading Loki and Aidan."
"Exactly," said Alex. "But when we press Dahoud, they lose fluidity. The problem is that we're not doing it consistently without opening up holes."
Eddie frowned, thinking fast. He needed to adjust the ga plan, but he also needed the agreent of the leaders on the pitch. Toward Alex, he turned. "I'll call Lucas. He's the link between the attack and the midfield. You can put this into practice if you understand our idea."
Alex nodded, but before Eddie could call Lucas, a rough tackle took place on the pitch. A powerful push from an opposing player hit Raphael. The referee blew his whistle imdiately, calling a foul and warning the Dortmund player with a yellow card. Raphael stayed on the ground, groaning in pain, while the Brighton players surrounded the referee, demanding harsher punishnt.
Eddie seized the mont.
"Lucas!" he shouted, gesturing with his hand for the midfielder to co closer.
Lucas ran into the technical area, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's wrong? Is Rapha coming out?" he asked, panting.
"He'll probably be fine," said Eddie quickly. "But listen: we need to change our positioning. Dahoud is their heart. Now I see why Dortmund paid 12 million euros to buy her a few weeks ago. However, if we put pressure on him early, we force Dortmund to make mistakes. I want you and Felix to move forward slightly, but keep up constant communication. Leave no room for them to breathe."
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Lucas nodded. "What about the full-backs? They're overloading us."
Eddie pointed to Alex, who quickly replied: "The solution is simple: Loki and Aidan can't go up at the sa ti. When one goes forward, the other drops back to cover. And Miguel and Raphael need to help more on the defensive end. All this will leave Arthur more marked up front, but you'll be freer."
Lucas absorbed everything quickly, his eyes shining with determination. "Understood. I'll pass this on to the team."
Eddie put a firm hand on Lucas's shoulder. "I trust you, kid. Make it happen."
Lucas ran back onto the pitch as Raphael stood up, still limping slightly. He used the ti of the free-kick to speak to Felix.
"Change of plan." said Lucas quickly. "Let's put pressure on Dahoud early. He's their engine. If we stop him, they'll get lost. Tell Miguel he needs to help Loki with the marking. Raphael, are you okay with continuing?"
Raphael nodded, although he still looked uncomfortable. "Yes. And don't worry."
Lucas smiled. "That's what we need. Let's go."
When the ga restarted, Brighton's change of approach was evident. Felix and Lucas, now more aggressive in midfield, surrounded Dahoud whenever he received the ball. This forced Dortmund to look for alternatives, but their full-backs, who had previously advanced with confidence, were now hesitant, fearful of Brighton's counter-attacks.
In the 30th minute, the pressure worked. Lucas intercepted a hasty pass from Dahoud and imdiately released Raphael down the left. The winger ran as if the previous cart had never happened, dribbling past two markers before crossing low to Arthur. The center-forward shot first ti, but the Dortmund goalkeeper made a spectacular save, deflecting the ball for a corner.
Eddie applauded from the technical area, encouraging the team. "All right! Keep going!"
At this point, Brighton looked like a team transford. The pressure in midfield and the quick attacks from the wings put Dortmund against the wall. In the 34th minute, they almost equalized with another great chance. Miguel received a long throw-in from Luiz Fernando, cut inside and shot. The ball went very close, drawing gasps from the fans in the stands.
However, Dortmund was still dangerous. In the 40th minute, they almost went ahead on a counter-attack.
Dahoud escaped his marker montarily and released Bruun Larsen, who broke into the area and shot across the goal. Anton, with incredible reflexes, deflected it with his fingertips.
Anton, after his miraculous save on the counter-attack, quickly put the ball back in play. He laid it off to Loki, who deftly controlled it near the by-line and, without hesitation, passed it to Miguel. The winger, who until then had struggled with the double marking, this ti spun past his marker and advance down the right, to Eddie's shouts of encouragent:
"Go on, Miguel! Pull it in!"
Miguel followed his orders, but the Dortmund defense was ready. The opposing full-back, with a clean run in, disard the striker and regained possession.
"Get back! Get back!" shouted Lucas, waving his arms like a general on the pitch.
Brighton obeyed, quickly recovering their defensive lines. Felix, with his tireless energy, ran to press Dahoud, forcing him back. This attitude visibly bothered the Dortmund players, who seed less fluid in their transitions.
With the clock ticking down to 43 minutes, Dortmund pressed again. Dahoud found space and played Bruun Larsen in on the left. He advanced at speed, but Loki, this ti more alert, blocked the cross. The ball sailed over the line, giving the visitors a corner.
The tension was mounting. Dahoud walked calmly to the corner flag, positioning the ball with precision. He looked up, analyzing the positioning of his teammates and opponents.
"Mark it! Mark everyone!" shouted Anton, raising his arms to organize his defense.
The cross ca in tight, aiming for the top corner. Daniel Riber rose high to the head, clear. The ball fell to Lucas, who imdiately tried to launch a counter-attack. With an impressive run, he passed a marker and released Raphael on the left.
Raphael, still feeling the effects of his previous blow, didn't have the sa explosiveness as before, but he made up for it with skill. He carried the ball up the middle and tried to find Arthur in the box, but his pass was intercepted by the German defense.
The referee raised his hand, signaling two minutes of extra ti. Brighton knew they had to make the most of the remaining ti.
"Let's go! One more!" shouted Eddie from the technical area, gesturing his players forward.
Lucas looked at the bench, sensing his coach's confidence. He took a deep breath and positioned himself, ready for another attempt. Felix stole the ball in the center circle, anticipating a pass from Dahoud. Wasting no ti, he played it to Denis, who imdiately spotted Lucas breaking clear near the edge of the box.
"Go, Lucas!" shouted Denis, flicking the ball on with precision.
Lucas controlled it with the sole of his boot, turning his body into one fluid movent. The opposing defender ca forward to tackle him, but Lucas deceived him with a feint to the right before cutting back to the left, leaving the defender behind.
Now alone on the edge of the box, Lucas raised his head. He had a split second to decide. The Dortmund goalkeeper was advancing slightly, trying to close the angle.
Lucas shot with his right foot with power and precision. The ball described a perfect curve, rising and dropping towards the top left corner of the goal. The goalkeeper stretched, but couldn't reach it.
The stadium erupted in shouts of joy. The ball bounced off the net and Lucas, overco with emotion, ran towards the crowd, punching the air with both hands. His teammates ran to embrace him, shouting and celebrating as if they had won the ga.
"That's it, Lucas!" shouted Raphael, slipping an arm around his friend's shoulder. "You're a monster!"
Anton, on the other side of the pitch, knelt down briefly, grateful for the chance to go into half-ti with a draw. Coach Eddie smiled with relief, while Alex quickly jotted sothing down in his notebook.
Soon after, the first half ended with the referee's whistle. The Brighton players walked to the tunnel, more than relieved. The score was 2-2, and the feeling was that an away win against the group's chief rivals could be achieved.
In the dressing room, Eddie gathered the players in a circle, with Lucas in the center, still panting and glowing with confidence.
"Boys, that was incredible," began Eddie. "You've shown that you can compete with anyone. That goal was just the start. In the second half, we need to keep up the pressure and play smart. We'll use the wingers to exploit the spaces and keep suffocating Dahoud. Is that clear?"
"Yes, coach!" everyone replied in unison.
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