Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King-Chapter 279: ADO Den Haag Vs AZ Alkmaar

Rob: [He’ll be wondering how that didn’t go in. But credit to Coutinho, that’s a world-class stop]

AZ Alkmaar kept pushing. Henriksen dictated the tempo, Elm pulled the strings, and Beerens and Berghuis provided width. Den Haag, meanwhile, sat deep, defending with numbers, waiting for a counterattack.

Benjamin knew exactly what this kind of game felt like. The frustration of having the ball but not finding the breakthrough. The need for patience, the importance of timing.

Half an hour in, the pattern remained the same. AZ Alkmaar dominated possession, but the final touch was missing.

Then, suddenly—danger.

A long ball over the top, bypassing the midfield entirely. ADO Den Haag’s striker, Tjaronn Chery, peeled away from his marker, sprinting into open space.

Chris: [And now Den Haag on the break—Chery is through!]

Benjamin sat up, his heart rate spiking.

Viergever gave chase, but Chery had the edge. He took one touch, then another, angling towards goal.

Rob: [This is trouble! It’s one-on-one!]

Chery reached the 18 yard box, steadied himself, and pulled the trigger—

Chris: [Chery... SAVED by Alvarado!]

The AZ Alkmaar keeper threw himself low, his left hand parrying the shot away. The rebound fell loose for a split second before Reijnen cleared it out of danger.

Benjamin exhaled, rubbing his chin. That was close. Too close.

Rob: [Massive save from Alvarado! That could have been 1-0 just like that]

Chris: [And that’s the risk, isn’t it? AZ Alkmaar in full control, but one long ball and they’re nearly punished]

Benjamin shook his head. Football could be cruel. Dominate for thirty minutes, then nearly fall behind from a single counter.

The match settled again, but the warning was clear. AZ Alkmaar couldn’t afford to switch off, even for a second.

They pushed forward, searching for the goal that had eluded them so far. Henriksen and Elm kept the midfield ticking, moving the ball side to side, probing for openings.

On the left, Maarten Martens received a sharp pass from Gorter. He controlled it quickly, lifting his head.

Chris: [Martens, looking for options... finds Berghuis!]

Berghuis took a touch, cut inside, and unleashed a curling shot toward the far corner.

Rob: [Berghuis—ohhh, just wide!]

Benjamin leaned back, exhaling through his nose. It was close. The right idea, but not quite there.

The camera cut to the AZ Alkmaar bench, where the substitutes sat watching intently. Adam Maher, the young playmaker, stood up and stretched his legs. He’d be an option later if things stayed deadlocked.

The game ticked toward halftime, still goalless. AZ Alkmaar’s dominance was clear, but Den Haag’s deep defensive line remained stubborn.

Then, just before the 35th minute, another opening.

Henriksen, with time on the ball, spotted Altidore making a run between the center-backs.

Chris: [Great ball from Henriksen—Altidore’s in!]

Altidore muscled past his marker and let the ball bounce once before striking it low with his left foot.

Rob: [Altidore... SAVED AGAIN! Coutinho denies him!]

The Den Haag keeper reacted quickly, sticking out a foot to block the shot.

The rebound spilled out to Martens near the edge of the 18 yard box. He didn’t hesitate, firing it first-time.

Chris: [Martens! Ohhh, just over the bar!]

Benjamin sighed, shaking his head. The chances were there, but AZ Alkmaar just couldn’t find the finishing touch.

The frustration was starting to creep in. AZ Alkmaar had controlled the game from the first whistle, created lots of chances, but the ball refused to hit the back of the net.

Benjamin could see it in the players’ body language. A few had hands on their hips, a glance at the sky, that brief second of disbelief after another missed opportunity.

He had been in that situation before—it was the kind of game where doubt slowly started to whisper in your ear.

Chris: [Well, if this keeps up, you have to wonder—do they start forcing things?]

Rob: [Exactly. And that’s when Den Haag becomes even more dangerous. They’ve defended well, but they’ll be thinking, ’All we need is one moment of surprise]

AZ Alkmaar pushed again°

Henriksen floated a diagonal pass toward Beerens on the right wing. The winger controlled it smoothly, his first touch setting him up to drive at his fullback.

Chris: [Beerens, looking to take him on—still going!]

He dipped his shoulder, cut inside onto his left foot, and curled in a cross to the far post.

Rob: [Altidore’s there!]

Altidore leapt above his marker, his forehead meeting the ball cleanly—powerful, downward, on target.

CLANG!!!~

Chris: [Altidore... OH, OFF THE POST!]

Benjamin groaned under his breath, his hands gripping his knees.

The ball rebounded dangerously inside the 18 yard box, bodies scrambling. Berghuis reacted first, lunging forward with an outstretched boot—

Rob: [Berghuis—blocked!]

Den Haag somehow survived. Their defenders hacked the ball clear, and the home crowd roared in appreciation.

Chris: [How has that stayed out?!]

Benjamin let out a frustrated chuckle. Some games felt cursed.

The clock ticked past 40 minutes. AZ Alkmaar needed to score before halftime to avoid letting doubt creep in further.

Another attack built through the middle. Henriksen and Elm exchanged quick passes, trying to carve open the defense.

Then, a flicker of an opening—Martens found a pocket of space just outside the 18 yard box.

Chris: [Martens—he’s got room!]

He took a touch, set himself, and drilled a low shot toward the bottom corner.

Rob: [Martens... saved again by Coutinho!]

The goalkeeper stretched low to his right, his fingertips pushing the ball around the post.

Benjamin exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple.

Chris: [Coutinho is having the game of his life! AZ Alkmaar have thrown everything at him, and he’s stopped it all!]

The camera zoomed in on Altidore, who had his hands on his hips, shaking his head. The frustration was clear.

Benjamin muttered to himself, [Come on, just one before halftime]

AZ Alkmaar won a corner. Henriksen jogged over to take it, placing the ball down, adjusting his socks.

Fweeee!

The referee blew his whistle.

Henriksen swung it in—a perfect delivery, curling toward the near post.

Rob: [Dangerous ball in!]