An Eye for an Eye, a Tooth for a Tooth (Part 2)
Following a brief breather at halftime, the second half got underway.
The flow of the match didn't differ much from the first forty-five minutes, save for one striking visual detail: every single defender in Stoke City's back three had cotton stuffed up his nostrils. That meant each of them had taken a ball flush to the face courtesy of Kayden at least once. Martin, their central sweeper, had already been forced to replace his blood-soaked plugs three separate times. Kayden was channeling all the pent-up anguish of his recent goal drought directly onto the innocent Stoke backline.
"Stoke City are somehow holding on and keeping the deadlock intact, but their center-backs look an absolute mess."
"Kayden Obreim's shots have completely lacked calibration, smacking into defenders every time he pulls the trigger. From Stoke's perspective, they probably aren't sure whether this is good news or bad."
Given Kayden's miserable run of form, nobody watching imagined for a second that he was deliberately targeting opposing players—with the sole exceptions of Martin, who had been clobbered three times, and the few Luton players who were in on the secret.
"Haha, quite right. Regardless, the atmosphere inside the ground is reaching a fever pitch."
"Indeed. As we move past the eightieth minute, both Luton Town and Stoke City are aggressively probing each other's vulnerabilities."
"Stoke City are constantly attempting to breach Luton's offside trap, while Luton, faced with a deeply entrenched Stoke defense, are doing everything they can to feed the ball to Lee Han."
"Notice how Stoke City, in their bid to win the ball back in the second half, seem to have judged Kayden Obreim's shooting toothless. They've shifted the marker who stuck to Kayden in the first half over to Lee Han as well."
"Spot on. And in the space left behind, Kayden needs to step up and deliver. Continuously cycling the ball out wide to the fullbacks for crosses to Lee Han is an unnecessary detour. Counterattacks and attacking sequences require efficiency."
Right on cue, Teddy delivered an early cross half a beat ahead of schedule, sweeping the ball into the penalty box.
As if it were second nature by now, Lee Han adjusted his positioning in a flash despite the awkward trajectory of the delivery. Leaping clean through the reckless, physical fouls of three defenders, he redirected the ball with his head. Once again, the ball dropped right into Kayden's vicinity. Shrugging off a challenge, he skipped past an opposing midfielder with deft footwork before glancing across his options.
Should I just lay it off to the left?
Looking over at Wright, who was waiting in acres of space out on the left flank, Kayden seemed on the verge of doing just that.
Not on my watch.
Lee Han had zero intention of letting him pass it up. Kayden needed his resurrection today. And for a striker, nothing resurrected confidence quite like putting the ball into the back of the net.
"Don't think! Shoot!"
Just as Kayden looked poised to slip the pass to Wright to avoid the recovering Stoke midfielder, Lee Han's roar cut cleanly through the din of the stadium and rang in his ears. Kayden chose to trust the teammate who had backed him all match long.
Twisting his body away from what looked like an inevitable pass, he rolled the ball with the sole of his boot to evade the sliding midfielder's challenge. Carving a pocket of space outside the box, he cocked his leg to shoot. Naturally, the Stoke defenders, having suffered so much punishment already, turned their backs and braced themselves to block. But Kayden expertly exploited their hesitation.
He didn't unleash a blind blast.
Following the striker's instinct that had finally reawakened after a long slumber, he nudged the ball one more stride forward, using the defender's frame to completely blind the goalkeeper's line of sight. Before the defenders could spin back around after realizing they had been duped, he unleashed the strike.
It wasn't a hit of raw power. Snapping his ankle, he wrapped his foot around the ball, bending it cleanly around the defender's silhouette.
Rip!
Curling in from the left edge of the box, the ball bent past both defender and goalkeeper by inches, clipping the inside of the post before rippling the netting.
"Aaaarrrghhh!"
As the net bulged, Kayden collapsed onto his knees, roaring at the sky as tears welled in his eyes. No offside flag. No foul. The ball was well over the line. It was an undisputed, undeniable goal.
"In the eighty-eighth minute! Kayden Obreim finally claws his way out of the depths of his drought, scoring his first league goal in nine matches!"
"A vital goal for Luton Town, and a sorely needed lifeline for Kayden to wash away his struggles! Just look at him weeping—it shows the sheer weight of what he's been carrying on his shoulders."
"Luton Town take the lead! Stoke City are suddenly scrambling!"
The Luton players rushed over to Kayden, fully aware of the grind he had weathered, and mobbed him with fierce congratulations.
"What a trajectory! Absolute filth!"
"See? You've got it in you!"
"Keep playing like that from now on!"
His back throbbed from the flurry of hearty slaps, but Kayden couldn't care less, cycling between beaming grins and wet sobs. Lee Han walked up to him.
"Feels good to score, doesn't it?"
"It feels amazing."
"Then how about you let me taste that feeling too?"
Hearing Han's teasing remark, Kayden let out a chuckle.
"You score in every damn match."
"Which is exactly why I want one today too, don't you think?"
"All right, all right. Who am I to say no to you? Don't worry, I'll return the favor."
"I'll hold you to that promise. Come on, let's get back to our half."
Snapping back to reality, Kayden noticed the referee's stern glare in the distance, signaling that the celebrations had gone on long enough.
"Keep striking the ball like that," Han added. "Even if you don't score another, I'll force the second ball into the net no matter what."
"Thanks, Han."
Taking Han's outstretched hand, Kayden pulled himself up and trotted back toward the center circle.
Just as Lee Han had promised, late in stoppage time, Kayden unleashed another shot that rattled off the woodwork—and Han threw himself into the air, driving the rebound into the net with his head to seal the victory.
"Stoke City's final attack drifts harmlessly over the line, and there's the final whistle!"
"Championship Round 21, Stoke City versus Luton Town! With Kayden Obreim's deadlock-breaking winner and Lee Han's stoppage-time sealer, Luton walk away with all three points!"
"A bitter pill to swallow for Stoke City after those final ten minutes."
"On the other hand, Luton Town secure the win while witnessing Kayden Obreim signal his glorious resurgence—a match they couldn't have scripted better."
"Following the sudden news of Dominic's injury, this will be a massive relief for Manager Gordon Morton."
"Let's hope the squad stays healthy through the remainder of the first half of the season."
"Indeed. The Championship is an absolute grind with forty-six fixtures—far more demanding than the Premier League. Lee Han needs to be careful with injuries as well."
"That wraps up our broadcast for today. Thank you to everyone who stayed up late to watch, and have a great night."
A goal's a goal. What more do you want?
I promptly clicked the report button on the video showing me staring blankly into the net.
By the time the first half of the season neared its conclusion, tactical analysis of each team's key players was usually well established across the league. Managers knew who pulled the strings, who spearheaded the attack, and which specific threats demanded extra markers. Whether those counter-strategies proved effective on the pitch was another matter, but on the tactical whiteboard, a manager had to have an answer.
I'm losing my mind. Truly.
Carsley Wagner, manager of Coventry City FC—Luton Town's opponents for Round 22—stared at footage of Lee Han that he had replayed dozens of times today alone. Footage from the previous season was practically useless given how drastically Luton's tactical setup had evolved, forcing him to pour hours into recent tape.
How on earth are we supposed to counter this?
The more tape he watched, the more hopeless it seemed. From match to match, the player's style swung between two wildly contradictory extremes. If you focused on neutralizing his aerial dominance, his footwork tore your lines apart. Yet if you compressed space to smother his passing and ground finishing, he somehow muscled the ball into the back of the net with his head anyway.
It's not like I can prepare two separate game plans either.
Naturally, real life wasn't a video game. He couldn't just hand his players brand-new tactical instructions a few hours before kickoff upon seeing the opponent's starting eleven. And attempting to drill two bespoke tactical systems for a single match would almost certainly backfire, leaving them masters of neither.
Carsley knew his squad's limits. Players were human beings, not machines; they needed practice and repetition. Even under intense drilling, pulling off a single tactical setup properly was an achievement in itself. And kickoff was less than four days away.
A dilemma. A complete and utter dilemma.
If they stuck to their usual Plan A, the legendary Gordon Morton would dissect them and tear them to shreds.
In fact, he's probably finished analyzing us already.
That had happened to every other club in the division—it was an immutable constant. Carsley possessed enough self-awareness not to believe his tactical setup was unplayable even when anticipated. He knew his own caliber. Yet if he prepared a brand-new counter-tactic, it was literally a fifty-fifty gamble.
The only saving grace was that Luton had never switched tactics erratically midway through a match. If Lee Han played with his feet, you only had to worry about his feet for ninety minutes; if he played with his head, you only had to worry about his head. The fatal problem, however, was that Carsley wouldn't know whether Han would play as an aerial target or a technical playmaker until Luton submitted their team sheet on matchday.
"Haah... In the end, it all comes down to whether their players have an off day."
He sighed, chewing on a strip of beef jerky. The only matches Luton Town had dropped points in this season were games where injuries fractured their lines, or where the entire squad suffered an off day physically.
Carsley let out a self-deprecating chuckle and turned back to the tactical sheets he had drafted with his staff. Even if the odds were stacked against him, he was still the manager of Coventry City. He had to polish the plan as much as possible so he could present it with confidence to his players.