Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King-Chapter 276: Tense Moments

Beerens surged forward, his strides long and purposeful. The VVV defenders scrambled, backpedaling as he sized up his options.

Adam Maher was making a darting run to his left, while Lewis hovered near the far post, waiting.

Chris: [AZ Alkmaar have to make this count. They won’t get many more chances!]

Beerens hesitated for just a second—enough for Post to close the gap. A desperate lunge.

Contact.

Beerens stumbled but stayed on his feet, nudging the ball ahead before Post’s trailing leg clipped him.

Fweeeee!

Rob: [That’s a foul. No doubt about it.]

Chris: [And look where it is! This is a dangerous spot for a free kick.]

Martens jogged over, already eyeing the top corner. The VVV goalkeeper, Mäenpää, shouted instructions, frantically setting up his wall. The tension in the stadium was thick.

Chris: [Do they go for goal or waste more time?]

Rob: [If this goes in, it’s over. If not, VVV have one last push.]

Martens inhaled, took his steps back, and waited for the whistle.

The referee checked his watch. Then—

Fweeee!

A sharp blow of the whistle.

Martens stepped up. A smooth strike, curling over the wall—

Mäenpää saw it late. He dived, stretching—

The ball kissed the top of the net.

Chris: [Just over! So close!]

Rob: [And that might be it. VVV are out of time.]

Mäenpää wasted no seconds, launching the goal kick deep into AZ Alkmaar territory. The last roll of the dice.

Post rose highest, nodding it forward. Wildschut chased, driving into the 18 yard box. One last chance.

Marcellis met him, shoulder to shoulder.

Wildschut took a touch. frёewebnoѵēl.com

Too heavy.

Alvarado rushed out, smothering the ball before he could react.

Chris: [That was the moment! Wildschut just couldn’t get it under control!]

Rob: [And look at Alvarado—he’s taking his time. AZ Alkmaar know they’re close]

Alvarado sat up, ball tucked under his arm. He glanced at the referee, then at his teammates, motioning for them to push up. Seconds bled away before he finally stood and launched a long kick upfield.

But VVV weren’t done.

Post won another header, nodding it down to Van Kessel. A quick turn, a sharp pass—straight to Wildschut on the left.

Chris: [VVV come again! They won’t go away!]

Wildschut took off, powering down the wing. Marcellis, breathing heavy, scrambled to keep up. The winger feinted left, then cut right—Marcellis bit, lunging at air.

Rob: [He’s beaten him! This is dangerous!]

Wildschut stormed into the 18 yard box. The angle was tight, but he saw an opening—Nwofor, unmarked near the penalty spot.

A quick look. A hard-driven cross.

Chris: [Perfect delivery—]

Nwofor lunged, stretching—contact!

The ball flew toward goal.

Rob: [Nwofor—!]

A fraction too high.

The stadium held its breath as the ball crashed off the crossbar, rattling the frame before bouncing back into play.

Chris: [Off the bar! Unbelievable!]

Reijnen reacted first, clearing it into the stands. VVV players clutched their heads. Nwofor dropped to his knees, hands on his face.

Rob: [They had it. That was it. That was the chance.]

Chris: [So close. So, so close.]

On the touchline, Gertjan Verbeek barked at his players, urging them to stay sharp.

Benjamin, still glued to his screen, exhaled. His heart was pounding.

Five minutes left.

VVV-Venlo had just let their best chance slip away.

A sharp knock at the door made Benjamin flinch. His eyes darted to the television screen, then to the door.

Another knock followed soon after.

He hesitated before pushing himself off the couch, wincing as he put weight on his injured right leg. Limping toward the door, he placed a hand on the knob and pulled it open.

Ashley stood there with a small smile on her lips. In her hands was a neatly wrapped box.

"Thought you could use a pick-me-up," she said, stepping inside.

Benjamin exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "You always have good timing."

Ashley set the box down on the coffee table and glanced at the screen. The match was still raging—VVV pushing, AZ Alkmaar holding on for dear life.

"Still 2-1?" she asked, dropping onto the couch.

"Just barely," Benjamin muttered, lowering himself beside her. His knee throbbed, but he barely noticed. His eyes stayed locked on the game.

Ashley leaned forward with her elbows on the knees. "How much time left?"

"Less than five minutes, minus additional time."

On the screen, Wildschut had the ball again, tearing down the left flank. Benjamin leaned forward instinctively, his fingers tightening around the fabric of his sweatpants.

Chris: [VVV just won’t quit! Here comes Wildschut again!]

Rob: [AZ Alkmaar have to be careful here. One mistake, and they throw away the win.]

Wildschut feinted, then burst forward, leaving Marcellis behind. The cross whipped in dangerously into the 18 yard box were the players scrambled.

Ashley sucked in a breath.

The ball curled toward Nwofor, who rose high, meeting it with his forehead. A bullet header—

Straight into Alvarado’s gloves.

Benjamin exhaled sharply. Ashley let out a low whistle of relief.

Chris: [Another chance! But Alvarado stands tall!]

Rob: [VVV must be wondering what more they have to do to score!]

Ashley turned to Benjamin, eyeing his rigid posture. "You act like you’re on the field."

Benjamin barely heard her. His jaw clenched as Alvarado took his time, rolling the ball to Adam Maher. AZ Alkmaar needed to kill the game.

"AZ Alkmaar just need to keep the ball," he murmured.

Ashley smirked. "I think Gertjan Verbeek would agree with you."

Adam Maher played it safe, knocking it sideways to Henriksen. VVV pressed, desperate.

Ashley’s eyes flicked to Benjamin’s right knee, wrapped in bandages. "How’s it feeling?"

"Fine," he muttered, though the way he shifted told a different story.

She sighed, leaning back against the couch. "You know, you’re a terrible liar."

Before he could respond, the commentators’ voices spiked again.

Chris: [Here comes the final push from VVV!]

Wildschut, one last run. One last desperate attempt.

Benjamin’s fists tightened and Ashley leaned forward.

The game was on a knife’s edge.