God Of football

Chapter 1035: A Dangerous Alternative!

The noise from the blue-and-white end continued long after the attack had finished.

For the first time all evening, Spain’s supporters had an answer roaring back at them from the opposite side of the stadium.

For a few moments the stadium sounded Uruguayan, and as this went on, the throw-in came quickly on the pitch.

The toss from Maximiliano Araújo found Bentancur again, who had been a headache to follow for Rodri.

Before the former Ballon d’Or winner could pose a threat, Bentancur slipped possession inside.

Viñas received with his back to goal and turned blindly before curling a hopeful ball toward the far side of the area.

It shouldn’t have been dangerous, but the cross kept bending and bending until Raya suddenly found himself backpedalling.

The Arsenal keeper had stepped off his line expecting something else entirely, but now he was scrambling.

Just as it seemed like the ball would nestle into the back of the net, it drifted at the last, hitting the side netting as the stadium gasped again.

Raya, who had stumbled onto his bottom after backpedalling so fast, laughed nervously.

In that moment, it felt like it was the only thing he could do as he got back to his feet a second later.

”David Raya won’t want to watch that replay too many times.”

”No,” Moreau chuckled, responding to Drury’s statement.

”That was becoming very awkward.”

Raya gathered the replacement ball and restarted play quickly, and the next seven minutes became a fight.

Every second ball had three players contesting it, and every loose touch attracted pressure.

In the proceedings that went on, every metre had to be earned as the midfields of the two teams battled.

Valverde and Pedri traded possession while Bentancur and Rodri collided repeatedly in midfield, and in the midst of that, Ugarte began chasing anything that moved.

But gradually, Spain started winning despite having a player less and the reason for that, as always, was none other than Izan.

He dropped deeper, joining the midfield battle and soon, things that weren’t present previously, like one extra passing lane and one extra option to pass the ball to, became present.

Whenever Uruguay felt like they had somehow had the ball trapped, it kept finding ways to go.

Eventually, the effect spread and Spain started keeping the ball longer and with that came pressure building once more on the South American side.

Uruguay found themselves in an uncomfortable place.

Too deep to counter and too stretched to press.

And Spain sensed it.

The attack developed through the middle, with the ball finding Pedri first, and then Ruiz before finally making its way to Izan.

And the moment he touched the ball, the Akron began feeling expectant as always.

”He has options here,” Drury said as Izan’s gaze began moving around.

Nico’s run wasn’t quite there, Lamine’s lane wasn’t really clear, and Ferran was marked.

For a second he searched, but a moment later, he stopped searching.

And went himself.

”Oh, he’s off,” Drury called, a bit caught off guard, and that translated to

Ugarte barely having the time to react on the pitch as Izan accelerated past him with the ball glued to his feet.

But then suddenly, Giménez stepped out, looking to halt the move, only to find the ball slipping beyond him without him even having to try.

The crowd exploded, and suddenly, Izan was through, or would have been.

For fear of what would happen if Izan got away, the defender’s arm shot out.

A desperate act from a desperate man, and despite Izan’s best efforts to go away, the shirt was squeezing the breath out of him, forcing his stride to break, and in the next moment, the stadium erupted.

”PENALTY!” Drury screamed instantly as Izan’s form hit the ground and the whistle followed a heartbeat later as the referee pointed straight to the spot.

At that, Spain exploded into celebration all around the stadium while Uruguay exploded into protest.

Izan remained on the turf for a second longer than everyone else, mostly because he was surprised.

He hadn’t realised he’d gotten that far.

While he was stuck in his thoughts, Pedri arrived together with Ferran as the duo helped him back up.

”Guess I’ll take it,” Izan said, still a bit confused.

Around them, the Uruguayan players were surrounding the referee.

The Akron was split directly down the middle.

Cheers.

Boos.

Whistles.

Everything at once.

Izan already had the ball tucked beneath his arm, moving towards the spot when the referee blew his whistle before pressing a hand to his earpiece.

Following that, the noise changed immediately.

”Oh...” Drury’s voice lowered.

”We may not be done here.”

Down on the pitch, the referee listened but said nothing for a while as the two sides waited.

The eyes across the stadium tried unsuccessfully to read a man’s expression, but just as it seemed things might never end, the signal came with the referee making a rectangle sign as he indicated towards the VAR on the sidelines.

”Oh, he’s going to have a look now,” Drury muttered as the noise in the stadium climbed higher and higher again, both halves hopeful that the verdicts they wanted would come out.

The referee walked toward the monitor, watching one replay after the other and from numerous angles.

The wait felt endless despite lasting less than a minute.

Finally, the referee turned and began walking back, and when he got back towards the pitch, he crossed his arms.

The decision had been made; it wasn’t a penalty!

The Uruguayan end erupted while the Spanish end groaned.

A moment later, the referee pointed to the edge of the area, indicating the free kick instead, all while Izan shifted the ball against his hip.

The disappointment barely lasted a second before he got out of the penalty box.

Because the referee was now pointing exactly where he wanted it placed.

And that somehow felt dangerous too.

”Not a penalty,” Drury said.

”But I am not entirely convinced that helps Uruguay.”

All around the stadium, the Spanish crowd began getting hopeful once more.

Because everyone knew what he meant to have Izan standing beside a freekick in a favourable position.

Izan set the ball down as the referee measured the distance for the wall to be assembled.

When he was done, Muslera began barking his instructions, trying his earnest to block even light from penetrating his wall.

All while this happened, the Akron had gone strangely quiet.

And in the middle of it all, Izan slowly began taking steps backwards.

Never taking his eyes off the goal.