Chapter 44
Chapter 44
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 44
Chapter Title: FA Cup Semi-final vs Tottenham (4)
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Pedro Porro's fifth cross.
“Ugh!!”
Jayden Kamason swung his leg to deal with the ball, but it didn't connect properly.
The ball drifted off to the right.
The one who claimed it was Tottenham's left back, Destiny Udogie.
However, it wasn't a golden opportunity.
There was no luck like receiving a luckily deflected ball only for a goal chance to open up immediately, or no opposing player fixated on the second ball.
But.
Crash!
“Ugh!!”
Thud—
Destiny Udogie boldly lofted the ball over Shea Lacey and Noussair Mazraoui, then charged through the gap himself.
It was a narrow space that his massive frame shouldn't have been able to pass through, but his huge, solid physique allowed him to bulldoze his way in.
However, thanks to Noussair Mazraoui never losing focus on the ball until the end, he managed to stretch out his foot and nick it.
Thwump...
That was the stroke of luck.
Bam!!—
He tensed his body and headered toward the ball.
The ball, floating at just the right height, went straight into the net.
Waaaaaaaaaah!!—
The jubilant Udogie and Tottenham fans.
“Hoo...”
It was hard to call it anyone's mistake.
A situation where you could only say it was really bad luck.
But that didn't mean the goal would be undone.
Tottenham quickly retrieved the ball and the celebrating Udogie, returning to their half.
The score was still 1:2.
From their perspective, they wanted to close the gap with another goal quickly.
44th minute.
Manchester United conceded in the first half, with just one minute left.
——
The fourth kickoff of the first half alone.
A match with that many goals already.
For the watching fans, it was an incredibly entertaining game.
For fans of either side, it was heartburn-inducing.
Manchester United 2 : 1 Tottenham Hotspur
Among them, Manchester United fans were the more anxious.
They were still leading by one, but the momentum had shifted to Tottenham.
Tottenham, having clawed one back, now eyed a reversal.
It was natural for the team that tasted success with aggressive tactics to keep that vibe going.
The game restarted with Manchester United's kickoff.
As Lucas Cruijden passed the kickoff, Tottenham players charged forward like madmen.
Once again, the usual routine: rolling the ball through the legs to Marc Bernal.
It was Manchester United's routine that pretty much every team knew by now.
No need to stick to it stubbornly.
They just did it because it was efficient for Bernal to take the first touch and pass to me.
Now, most teams had caught on, making countermeasures their own routine against Manchester United.
Time to mix in some variation.
Swoosh—
I stretched my leg behind me to drag the ball forward, scraping it along.
The forwards had already dashed past me, and even the midfielders were picking up speed nearby.
Faking a loose touch, pulling it back at the very last moment.
This one move shook off Tottenham's entire attacking and midfield lines.
Thud—
Straight into a forward dribble.
No need to glance back and adjust pace.
Only Tottenham's backline remained ahead.
Even they had pushed up their line like the others, so they got caught by the change of direction and couldn't accelerate.
I charged straight through the gap between Antonio Silva and Pedro Porro.
Targeting Tottenham's left flank, the fastest Panderpen aside.
Not because I lacked confidence in a speed duel with him.
Just the more efficient path.
Porro and Silva chased desperately, but they couldn't catch me once I'd hit top speed.
Waaaaaaaaaah!!—
In an instant, I'd beaten every defender and reached the penalty box.
Lucas Cruijden made a run on the far side, offering a pass option.
A ground pass to him would've been a clean goal.
“Hup...”
Bam!!—
The keeper knew it too, letting my direct shot succeed.
Swish—
The net rippled as I bolted toward the stands.
But the celebration didn't come easily.
'Ah... still gotta do it.'
I didn't want to, didn't think it suited me, but it was my little sister's request, so fine.
And never again after today.
Rhythmically waving both hands in circles like dancing.
Similar to Griezmann's walkie-talkie celebration.
The difference: crossing thumbs and index fingers into a hand heart instead.
Eeeeeeee!!—
Hahahahahaha!!
For some reason, the laughter seemed as loud as the cheers.
I hoped it was my imagination, but no.
Yeah...
Laugh it up.
A footballer has to be willing to embarrass himself for the fans.
...Or so I rationalized it.
Otherwise, the embarrassment was unbearable.
Ban Yeager's embarrassing celebration marked the end of the first half.
Score 3:1
Clearly winning, very close to victory, a joyful situation.
But Ban Yeager couldn't fully enjoy the joy due to the embarrassment.
——
“Yeager! New celebration! Let's match one later!”
“Yeah... sure...”
Lucas Cruijden looked innocently thrilled today, which was annoying.
“Sigh...”
Somehow, it felt okay thinking he didn't find my celebration funny.
Tweeeet!!—
Second half kicks off with Tottenham's kickoff.
Nice to claw one back with momentum, but they got too carried away and conceded lamely again.
Plus, Tottenham had burned too much energy in the first half, making substitutions inevitable.
—
Destiny Udogie OUT, Jed Spence IN
Lucas Bergvall OUT, Pape Matar Sarr IN
Dejan Kulusevski OUT, Xavi Simons IN
—
Tottenham used all three substitution cards.
The last one saved for potential injuries, effectively exhausting their bench.
In response, Manchester United subbed one: Tyler Fletcher in for Toby Collyer.
Bringing on his defensively minded younger brother to protect the lead.
The second half began with three and one changes respectively.
The scales of victory already tipped one way, making a comeback feel even harder.
Victory was as good as sealed.
Tottenham needed two goals in the last 10 minutes for extra time.
But among the 22 on the pitch, the one craving a goal most was Ban Yeager.
——
Tottenham, with nothing to lose, went all-out attack.
Manchester United countered with three more subs to bolster defense.
Leaving Ban Yeager alone up top.
Tottenham left only Panderpen at the back, everyone else forward.
Panderpen positioned sideways, ready to cover the space behind.
Thus, Ban Yeager and Panderpen waited intimately at midfield for 5 minutes.
With 5 minutes of regulation left, Mike Mignola caught Pedro Porro's cross.
Bam!!!—
Mignola immediately launched a long ball forward.
A pure foot race between me and Panderpen.
Eeeeeeee!!!—
Leaving just us two meant they trusted Panderpen in a straight sprint.
“Ugh!!”
But attackers and defenders could never start on perfectly equal terms.
Ban Yeager nudged Panderpen aside and burst forward.
Winning the start meant just not getting caught from behind.
Plus, Panderpen was already fatigued.
The gap didn't close—it widened.