Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King-Chapter 316: End-to-end Stuff

The midfielder clipped it wide to Basta, whose cross sailed too long, drifting past Di Natale’s leap. Alvarado caught it, chest puffed, and waved his team up.

Tony exhaled. [Udinese are testing AZ Alkmaar’s shape early, aren’t they?]

John’s tone was analytical. [They are. Guidolin’s got them compact, but that final ball’s off. Di Natale needs better service]

The game settled, both sides wrestling for control. Henriksen broke up a move, sliding to nick the ball from Badu. He fed Martens, who found Benjamin again.

The young winger darted inside, chopping past Willians with a quick La Croqueta, but Domizzi slid in, grass flying, to clear for a corner.

Tony’s voice rose. [Benjamin’s at it again! Domizzi had to be sharp there]

Jack clapped, mic catching it. [That’s why they call him trouble, Tony. Udinese can’t blink]

Benjamin jogged to the flag, hands cupped to his ears, soaking in the crowd’s roar. He raised a fist, signaling Altidore, who nodded back, jostling with Danilo.

Fweeee!

The whistle blew, and Benjamin swung the corner in, a curling dart toward the near post.

Tony’s voice tightened. [Here we go—dangerous delivery!]

Jack leaned forward. [Altidore’s lurking!]

The ball dipped, but Benatia rose, head thumping it clear. Pinzi collected, sparking a counter. He fed Armero, who tore down the left again, leaving Marcellis trailing.

The cross came, low and sharp. Di Natale met it, flicking a heel, but Alvarado sprawled, gloving it wide.

Tony gasped. [What a save! Di Natale nearly nicked it!]

Jack’s voice was electric. [That’s vintage from the old man! Alvarado’s earning his keep tonight]

#15th minute.

The pace didn’t let up. AZ Alkmaar pushed, Udinese bit back.

Benjamin danced on the left, Martens pulled strings, while Di Natale ghosted through gaps, Badu snapping at heels behind him. The crowd stayed loud, every touch fueling their fire.

Tony chuckled. [No one’s backing down, Jack. This is proper Europa League stuff]

Jack’s grin carried through. [End to end, Tony. I’m knackered just watching. Who’s got the edge?]

Tony paused, then answered. [Too early to call. Benjamin’s itching to break it open, but Di Natale’s waiting for one chance. It’s a knife-edge]

The ball rolled on, the night young, the fight just beginning.

The ball zipped across the damp grass, neither AZ Alkmaar nor Udinese giving an inch. The scoreboard still read 0-0, but every pass carried weight, every tackle a spark.

Henriksen lunged, clipping Pinzi’s ankle to win it back. The midfielder rolled, grimacing, but popped up quick, waving off the ref.

Henriksen didn’t wait—fired a pass to Elm, who turned and sprayed it wide to Benjamin. The winger took it in stride, boots flashing under the floodlights.

Tony’s voice hummed with anticipation. [Here’s Benjamin Rijkaard again, Jack. He’s got that look]

Jack’s tone was sharp and eager. [Basta’s got his hands full, hasn’t he? Kid’s a live wire]

Benjamin slowed, letting Basta close. The Udinese wing-back crouched, eyes locked on the ball. Benjamin tapped it left, then right—teasing.

The crowd leaned forward, taking a collective inhale. He feinted, shoulder dipping, then burst past with a quick step-over.

Basta stumbled, arm swinging for balance, but Benjamin was gone, cutting toward the 18 yard box.

Tony laughed. [Oh, he’s left him for dead!]

Jack’s voice rose, clapping again. "That’s cheeky, Peter! Poor Basta’s still looking for his boots!"

Domizzi stepped up, sliding to block, but Benjamin rolled the ball back to Martens. The captain didn’t hesitate—lofted a chip toward Altidore, who wrestled with Danilo at the penalty spot.

The striker jumped, neck muscles straining, but the ball sailed just over his head, dropping harmlessly to Brkić.

Jack exhaled. [Close, but no cigar. Altidore’s fighting for every inch out there]

Tony nodded, though no one saw. [Danilo’s stuck to him like glue, Jack. Tough night for the big man so far]

#17th minuteb.

Udinese clawed back. Badu snapped into a tackle, nicking the ball from Berghuis. He shoved it forward to Fabbrini, who darted through a gap, Viergever trailing.

Fabbrini’s pass found Di Natale, ghosting between Gorter and Reijnen. The veteran spun, one touch to control, then rifled a shot low. Alvarado dove, grass staining his gloves, and palmed it wide.

Tony’s voice spiked. [Alvarado again! Di Natale’s sniffing, isn’t he?]

Jack’s tone was electric. [He’s a menace, Tony! One touch, bang—Alvarado’s earning his wages tonight]

The corner came quick. Pinzi curled it in, a wicked inswinger. Danilo rose, outmuscling Henriksen, but his header looped high, grazing the bar before sailing into the stands. The away fans groaned, black and white scarves slumping.

Jack chuckled. [That’s a let-off for AZ Alkmaar. Danilo had a clean look there]

Tony’s voice steadied. [They’re creaking a bit at the back, Jack. Udinese smell blood]

AZ Alkmaar regrouped. Elm dropped deep, collecting from Gorter. He turned, shrugging off Willians, and pinged a long ball to Berghuis on the right.

The winger cut inside, past Armero’s lunge, and crossed low. Altidore lunged, studs scraping turf, but Benatia slid in, deflecting it out for a throw.

Tony’s tone lifted. [AZ Alkmaar are knocking now. Berghuis is finding his feet]

Jack’s voice had a grin. [He’s got Armero on toast there, Tony. Udinese’s left flank’s wobbling]

The throw went to Marcellis, who flicked it to Henriksen. The midfielder drove forward, head up, and slipped it to Benjamin, now roaming inside.

The winger took one touch, then chopped left, leaving Pinzi grasping air. The crowd roared, sensing danger. Benjamin aimed a curler toward the far post, but Brkić leaped, fingertips brushing it wide.

Tony gasped. [What a hit! Brkić’s stretched every sinew there!]

Jack’s voice buzzed. [That was inches, Peter! Benjamin’s got the keeper sweating already]

#21st minute.

The corner sparked chaos. Benjamin’s delivery dipped viciously, Altidore and Viergever charging the six-yard box. Danilo shoved Altidore, arms tangled, both men hitting the deck.

The ball popped loose, Henriksen swinging a boot, but Willians blocked, the ball ricocheting to Elm. His shot flew high, rattling the advertising boards.

Jack laughed, mic crackling. [It’s a wrestling match in there! Ref’s letting it flow, isn’t he?]

Tony’s tone was warm. [He’s got to, Jack. This is proper football—end to end, no one backing off]

Udinese countered. Armero tore down the left again, outpacing Marcellis. His cross was sharp, Di Natale peeling off Gorter.

The striker met it with a volley, but Reijnen threw himself in, the ball smacking his shin and spinning out. Di Natale’s hands hit his hips, head shaking.

Tony exhaled. [Reijnen’s a hero there! Di Natale was licking his lips]

Jack’s voice carried respect. [That’s brave defending, Tony. Reijnen’s putting his body on the line]

The game stretched, both sides tiring but refusing to yield. Martens picked up a loose ball, threading it to Benjamin.

The winger faced Basta again, this time near the touchline. He faked a cross, then rolled it back—Snake Bite—leaving Basta lunging.

The crowd roared as Benjamin sprinted toward the 18 yard box, but Domizzi crunched in, a clean tackle sending the ball to Badu.

Jack clapped once, loud. [Domizzi says no! That’s a big hit]

Tony chuckled. [Benjamin’s making them work, Jack. Udinese can’t switch off for a second]

Badu drove forward, shrugging off Elm’s press. He fed Fabbrini, who darted past Viergever and slipped it to Di Natale.

The veteran took it on the turn, 20 yards out, and struck it—low, venomous. Alvarado dove, gloves stinging, and pushed it around the post.

Tony’s voice jumped. [Another cracker from Di Natale! Alvarado’s on fire!]

Jack’s tone was pure excitement. [This is unreal, Tony! The old man’s turning back the clock!]

The corner fizzled—Viergever headed clear, and AZ Alkmaar broke. Henriksen carried it, finding Martens, who flicked it wide to Berghuis.

The winger cut inside, past Pinzi, and crossed. Altidore rose, outjumping Danilo, but his header looped wide, landing in the stands.

Tony sighed. [Altidore’s getting chances, but he’s not quite clicking]

Jack’s voice softened. [He’s battling, though. Danilo’s giving him no space. It’ll come]

28th minute.

The pace slowed, both teams catching breath. Elm controlled the tempo, passing short to Gorter, then Reijnen. Udinese sat back, compact, waiting.

Martens tried a long ball to Benjamin, but Benatia intercepted, nodding it to Willians. The midfielder charged, but Henriksen slid in, grass flying, to win it back.

Jack whistled. [Henriksen’s covering every blade out there, isn’t he?]

Tony’s voice was warm. [He’s the engine, Jack. Keeps AZ Alkmaar ticking]

Udinese pushed again. Basta overlapped, crossing low. Fabbrini dummied, letting it run to Di Natale. The striker spun, but Gorter stuck a leg out, deflecting it to Alvarado.

The keeper rolled it quick, sparking a counter. Benjamin sprinted, taking Elm’s pass in stride. He chopped past Badu, but Domizzi slid again, forcing a throw.

Tony’s voice rose. [Benjamin’s not stopping! Udinese are hanging on]

Jack laughed. [They’re throwing bodies at him, Tony. Kid’s a one-man wrecking crew]

AZ Alkmaar kept probing. Martens found Altidore, who held off Danilo and laid it back to Henriksen. The midfielder’s shot was tame, rolling to Brkić.