God Of football

Chapter 272 - 2 Goals in 5 minutes

By the 10th minute, it was clear—this was a war for midfield control.

Rodri and Fabian Ruiz took turns engaging Brozović and Modrić. The Croatians, masters of short passing under pressure, moved the ball just fast enough to escape Spain’s clutches.

Pedri, meanwhile, floated between the lines, a silent predator waiting for space to exploit.

Every time Spain recycled the ball, he was there, head swiveling, orchestrating the next move, and one such move saw, Yamal through on the byline.

Lamine Yamal, a blur of movement, skipped past Sosa on the right and curled a cross toward the back post.

The stadium watched on as Nico Williams rose above Juranović, heading the ball powerfully downwards.

The stadium held its breath sensing a golden moment but Livaković reacted instinctively, kicking the ball away with his left boot.

Another near miss.

”Spain are relentless here” the commentary box sounded.

Although Spain had most of the ball, Dalić’s men weren’t passive. In the 15th minute, they nearly silenced the Spanish crowd.

A sweeping move saw Gvardiol step forward, carrying the ball into midfield before slipping a pass to Kramarić.

The striker held it up and squared it to Modrić, who spotted an unmarked Perišić at the far post.

A deadly moment—Perišić wound up and struck a volley toward the bottom corner.

Simón, at full stretch, pushed it wide!

Croatia’s bench rose in unison clapping at their team’s efforts while Dalić clenched his fists. ”We can’t afford to not make chances like that count” he muttered to his assistant.

Sensing the danger, Spain adjusted. Rodri dropped deeper, allowing the fullbacks to push higher.

Pedri and Fabian Ruiz began to find more pockets of space and the rhythm shifted and the following minutes saw Spain strike again.

A diagonal ball from Rodri found Nico Williams near the edge of the box.

The winger took one touch to control and another to drive past Juranović before firing a low shot toward the near post.

Livaković was beaten—

But the ball shaved the outside of the post and rolled out!

Gasps filled the stadium. Spain was knocking, but Croatia refused to break.

As the 20th minute arrived, both teams had thrown their first punches.

The deadlock remained, but the message was clear—this was a match between equals, a battle waiting to explode.

Spain’s attacking momentum remained relentless. The fluid interplay between Pedri, Fabián Ruiz, and Rodri kept Croatia pinned, their defensive line stretched thin but the latter side didn’t let up.

After Croatia forced a corner, the leading set piece saw Gvardiol meet the ball almost putting Croatia ahead but Aymeric Laporte cleared the ball off the line.

On the other end, Izan leaned forward on the bench, eyes narrowing.

”That was too close,” he muttered.

De la Fuente turned to his assistants. ”We need better control in transition.”

Quickly, his assistants got to work finding ways to break down Croatia’s setup on paper.

Back to the other technical area, Dalić urged his players on. ”Keep exploiting the space! Stay aggressive!”

Rodri, sensing the danger, dropped deeper to stabilize Spain’s shape. Pedri and Fabián found more pockets of space, re-establishing control and the rhythm shifted again.

Online, fans showed their approval at the match where there was never a dull moment. At least up till now even though there was no goal.

.....

@MadridistaX: Nico Williams is a PROBLEM. Juranović can’t handle him.

@CroatianPride: Modrić is still running this game at 38. Absolute legend.

....

In the Spanish dugout, Izan shook his head.

”That was the one,” he muttered after Spain wasted another chance.

Beside him, Oyarzabal exhaled. ”We’re knocking. Feels like a goal is coming.”

Zubimendi, still locked into the game, muttered, ”One more chance and it’s in.”

”Spain knocking on the door, but Croatia refuses to break.”

”And you can feel the tension rising. These are two teams trading their best punches.”

As the half-hour mark dawned, both teams had landed their early blows.

The deadlock remained, but the message was clear—this was a match between equals, a battle waiting to explode and the first strike would come soon.

The Olympiastadion buzzed with nervous energy. Both teams had tested each other, but now, Spain made their move.

It started with a crisp build-up from the back, Rodri dictating the tempo, before shifting the ball wide to Yamal.

The 16-year-old, fearless as ever, darted forward, cutting inside Sosa (Croatia) before laying it off to Morata at the edge of the box.

”Morata’s always in the right place at the right time,” the commentator said, as Morata took a moment to size up the situation.

Morata, always aware, saw the run.

Fabián Ruiz ghosted between the lines, received the pass, and lifted a perfect through ball over the Croatian defense.

”A beautifully weighted pass from Fabián—Morata’s in!”

Morata was through.

One touch. One finish.

”Morata, he’s got a clear shot… and it’s in!”

The ball nestled into the bottom corner past Livaković.

GOAL!

SPAIN 1-0 CROATIA.

The crowd exploded, the Spanish fans sending a wave of joy through the stadium as Morata wheeled away, arms outstretched, his face alight with pride.

”And that’s why he’s the leader!” the commentator shouted, a nod to the veteran striker’s poise and class.

On the bench, Izan clapped, smirking. ”The captain delivers.”

Ferran Torres nodded. ”He’s sometimes just inevitable, isn’t he?”

”Other times, he just wastes time them,” Oryazabal said with a small grin

Across the pitch, Modrić clenched his fists, rallying his teammates. Croatia had conceded, but they weren’t out of this yet.

”Spain strike first in Berlin! Morata gets the goal, and now Croatia must respond quickly,” the commentator continued. ”You can’t afford to let a team like Spain build confidence.”

Dalić, Croatia’s coach, was already gesturing from the sideline, urging his players to refocus. ”Get the ball moving quicker!” he shouted, as his players gathered in a huddle.

The camera cut back to Spain’s bench, where the atmosphere was tense but confident. Izan’s eyes narrowed.

...

The commentary box was alive with excitement, the tension palpable as the match progressed.

Both teams had been testing each other relentlessly, and the atmosphere was electric, with the result hanging in the balance.

Commentator 1: ”Well, we’re now approaching the 33rd minute, and what a match this has been so far!

Spain have been dominant in possession, but Croatia, with their trademark composure, haven’t let the Spaniards have it all their own way. You can feel both teams are itching for the breakthrough.”

Commentator 2: ”Absolutely, Spain have been building with real intensity.

Rodri and Fabián Ruiz have been pulling the strings in midfield, and the movement of players like Yamal, Pedri, and Nico Williams is just too good.

It has been causing all kinds of problems for the Croatian defense.”

Commentator 1: ”And don’t forget about Croatia! Modrić, despite being 38, is still playing with the vision of a man half his age.

The way he’s orchestrating from deep has been incredible. It’s no wonder he’s one of the best midfielders to ever play the game.

But Spain… Spain are relentless. They’re knocking and knocking, and it feels like a matter of time before they break through again.”

Commentator 2: ”That’s the thing about this Spain side, they’ve got that hunger. When they’re in possession, they’re not just looking to control the game—they’re looking to pierce through defenses, and they’ve got the players to do it.

Nico Williams, in particular, has been a problem for Croatia’s right-back, Juranović. He just can’t keep up with the pace of Williams.”

Commentator 1: ”And we’re seeing that again right now—Spain are just attacking with such fluidity. Look at Yamal, so confident, so composed.

His combination with Fabián and Morata in the build-up to the first goal was sublime. This is a well-drilled Spain team, but Croatia is not making it easy for them.

They’re responding well, defending resolutely, but can they withstand this pressure for long?”

Commentator 2: ”It’s a battle of willpower now, and Croatia can’t afford to let Spain’s momentum build.

But Spain, look so clinical when they go forward. You can sense that another goal is coming…”

Suddenly, as if responding to the commentary, Spain surged forward again.

Commentator 1: ”Hold on a second! Spain are on the attack again! Rodri sprays a perfect ball out to the left… Yamal’s off—he’s quick—he’s got the defender on his back…”

Commentator 2: ”This kid is a menace! Yamal dances past Sosa again, cutting inside—he’s looking for options, looking for the right pass…”

Commentator 1: ”And here comes the ball into the box—Fabián’s there! He’s got space—he lays it back for… Pedri! No, it’s Fabian Ruiz again! HE’S IN! HE’S IN!”

Commentator 2: ” Fabian Ruiz. Can he finish?”

Commentator 1: ”One touch, one shot—OH, IT’S A GOAL! Ruiz doubles Spain’s lead, what a finish!”

The crowd erupted, the Spanish supporters in full voice, waving flags and cheering as Fabian Ruiz celebrated with his teammates, hands raised to the sky, a look of sheer determination on his face.

Commentator 2: ”What a finish! Ruiz’s clinical strike gives Spain a 2-0 lead. You have to admire his composure under pressure.

The pass from Yamal was inch-perfect, and Ruiz didn’t hesitate—he took the shot first time and buried it into the bottom corner. Livaković had no chance.”

Commentator 1: ”The quality of this Spanish side is undeniable. The way they’ve moved the ball, the precision in the final third—it’s what separates the top teams from the rest. Croatia has had their moments, but Spain have made theirs count.”

The camera shifted to Izan on the bench, his focus unbroken, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Commentator 2: ”And as we see on the bench, Izan, who had been a standout in the Spanish league this season, looks pleased with what he’s seeing.

His team is in control now. But there’s still a long way to go. Croatia won’t go down without a fight.”

Commentator 1: ”Absolutely, and with players like Modrić still pulling the strings, we know Croatia has the talent to create something special.

But this Spain team, they look like they’ve turned a corner in this match. What a performance, and what a moment for Ruiz.”

As the celebrations continued on the field, Spain were now two goals up, and the stadium buzzed with the intensity of what had just transpired.

Both coaches had their work cut out for them, but for now, Spain held the advantage. The battle had shifted, but the war was far from over.