God Of football - Chapter 211

Chapter 211: Extra Man Chapter 211: Extra Man The shrill sound of the referee’s whistle signaled halftime, the Valencia players began their slow march toward the tunnel.  Despite leading 1-0, their faces betrayed little joy.  The first half had been a grueling test of discipline and resolve, with two well-crafted goals from Valencia disallowed for razor-thin offsides.  The crowd at Son Moix, relentless in their hostility, made every moment feel like a battle.

The stadium erupted into a mix of boos and chants as the Valencia players walked off.

Izan, who had created much of Valencia’s attacking threat, remained stoic.  He ignored the jeers raining down from the stands, his mind already racing through scenarios for the second half.  Behind him, José Gayà, Giorgi Mamardashvili, and the rest of the squad trudged forward, mentally bracing for the war to come.

Commentators filled the broadcast with their analysis as cameras panned to the Valencia squad disappearing into the tunnel.

“What a first half we’ve had!

Valencia could easily be out of sight but for those two disallowed goals.

Izan, once again, has been instrumental.  His ability to read the game, pick a pass, and glide past defenders is simply astonishing.” “But let’s not write off Mallorca,” another pundit added.

“They’re a different beast in the second half, especially here at Son Moix.

Valencia will need to keep their focus.

A one-goal lead is never safe in a game like this.” The Valencia dressing room was a stark contrast to the chaos of the pitch.

Players slumped onto benches, sweat dripping from their faces, as they gulped water and caught their breath.  The air was thick with tension, but there was also a sense of quiet determination.

Rubén Baraja, the Valencia coach, stood in the center of the room, his arms crossed.

His eyes scanned the players, his expression firm but calm.

He clapped his hands to get their attention.

“Listen up,” Baraja began, his voice steady.

“We’ve done well out there.

You’ve kept your shape, stayed disciplined, and created chances.

But this is only half the job.” He paused, letting his words sink in.

“Mallorca is going to come at us in the second half.

They’ll throw everything they have at us.

But you need to stay calm.

Stay compact.

Trust each other.” Baraja turned to Izan, who sat near the middle of the room, his young face a mix of puzzlement and focus.  “Izan, keep doing what you’re doing.

You’re causing them problems every time you touch the ball.

Be ready for those moments-they’ll come.” The coach’s gaze shifted to the rest of the squad.

“This is our game to lose.

Don’t let the noise, the pressure, or the referee get to you.

Forty-five minutes, boys.

Give it everything.” The players nodded, their confidence bolstered by Baraja’s speech.

Izan leaned back, his mind replaying the first half’s key moments and thinking about how he could do more.

After the 15-minute period passed, the Valencia players returned to the pitch to a cacophony of boos and whistles.

The Mallorca fans had not relented, their voices filling every inch of Son Moix.  Flares lit up the stands, and chants in Mallorquí echoed across the stadium.

It was a hostile environment, and Valencia needed to stay composed.

As the second half kicked off, Mallorca immediately ramped up the intensity.

They pressed higher, tackled harder, and moved the ball faster.  Every touch from a Valencia player was met with jeers, while every Mallorca tackle drew thunderous applause.

In the 51st minute, Mallorca found their equalizer under controversial circumstances.

A long ball from the midfield found Vedat Muriqi, who appeared to be clearly offside.  The linesman kept his flag down, and Muriqi raced toward goal, calmly slotting the ball past Mamardashvili.

The stadium erupted in deafening cheers.

Valencia’s players surrounded the referee, their protests passionate but in vain.  Izan stood on the edge of the group, his arms outstretched in disbelief.

“Ref, he was offside!

You have to check it!” he pleaded, his voice carrying over the chaos but the referee just walked away, threatening to book any player who approached  “Oh, this is a shocking decision!

Muriqi was clearly offside when that ball was played.

VAR should intervene here.” But VAR did not intervene, and the goal stood.

The Valencia fans in the stands showed their disappointment at the refereeing but that was all they could do.

The injustice rattled Valencia.

Seven minutes later, Mallorca struck again.

This time, Dani Rodríguez picked up a loose ball after what seemed like a clear foul on Gayà in the buildup.

He drove into the box and unleashed a low shot into the corner.

The home crowd exploded, flares and scarves waving in celebration.

On the touchline, Rubén Baraja was livid.

He stormed toward the fourth official, shouting, “That was a foul!

How can you let that go?” The referee approached and showed Baraja a yellow card, but the Valencia coach did not back down.

“This is a disgrace!” he yelled, his voice echoing across the pitch.

A second yellow followed, and Baraja was sent off.

The camera zoomed in on Baraja as he walked toward the tunnel, shaking his head in frustration.

“Two questionable goals for Mallorca, and now Baraja is sent off for defending his team.

This is an absolute farce!

I’m not one to say but the referee will have a whole lot of trouble coming his way after this match.” Despite the chaos, Izan refused to let his team crumble.

He clapped his hands, shouting, “Come on, guys!

Heads up!

We can still do this!” His voice cut through the noise, and his teammates rallied around him.

“So we know they have an extra man in the referee by now but I don’t care about that.

I will book a place in the final for us so now I’m asking, ‘Are you worthy of that final?”  His words sounded a bit presumptuous but as Izan spoke, the players listened attentively, every word resonating with them because they knew he would do it.

“We are relentless.

We are Valencia, so fight”.

The Valencia players roared at the former’s words as they each dispersed to their positions.

[This is really giving off “THIS IS SPARTA” vibes Ngl] After the restart, Valencia were relentless as they tried to level the score.

In the 75th minute, Izan began to take control.  Picking up the ball deep in his own half, he skipped past two defenders with ease, his balance and close control mesmerizing.  The home crowd booed furiously, but they couldn’t help but gasp when he nutmegged another player and drove forward.

“Izan is taking this game by the scruff of the neck.

What a talent this kid is!” the commentator exclaimed.

Izan, with the ball at his feet, galloped across the field skipping past players like they had never played football a day in their life.

Getting to the arc of the box, Izan slipped the ball through to Hugo Duro but before the latter could shoot, a sliding tackle came from Sergi Darder to send the ball away for a throw.

“Having it tough aren’t ya?” he said to Izan with a subtle smirk but Izan didn’t give him the attention he wanted but instead ran towards the throw line for the ball.

With the ball in hand, Gaya hurled it at Izan who had run into space but before Izan could steady himself, he found Sergi Darder ramming into him from behind.

Izan winced slightly but held his ground.” This is a bit irritating” Izan muttered before proceeding to glance at the ball.

With a subtle flick, Izan lifted the ball before kicking it over Sergi Darder.

Caught off guard by the sudden skill, Sergi Darder tried to turn and hold Izan but slipped.

After seeing Darder fall, several Mallorca players approached Izan but he juggled the ball over them, sending it towards the edge of the box.

“Flashy but effective, Izan is away and it’s Izaaaaannn ” With the whole stadium watching on, Izan planted his left foot in the grass before sending a rocket from the Volley.

The ball skimmed on the grass before slowly rising as it went.

Pedrag Rajkovic tensed before lunging at the ball, his right palm getting to the ball but the power behind the ball was too great to be held.

Under the eyes of the crowd, the ball rustled the net with many fans wondering “What in the world have I seen?” For a moment, there was stunned silence.

Then, the Valencia fans erupted, their cheers drowning out the jeers.  “Ohhhhh my word!!!

Izan is truly the man for the job.

What a goal from HIM.

Heartbreak for Mallorca who thought it was over” Izan sprinted toward the corner flag, his fists clenched, roaring in triumph before putting his index finger to his mouth as if shushing the fans.  Izan’s teammates mobbed him, their earlier frustrations replaced by pure elation.

“What a goal!

Izan, take a bow!

From 32 meters out, he’s produced an absolute rocket to drag Valencia back into this game,” the commentator shouted.

The Mallorca fans were in shock, their voices momentarily silenced.

Boos soon followed, but the tension in the air was palpable.

With the aggregate score tied at 4-4, the final minutes were a whirlwind of tension.

Mallorca pushed desperately for a winner, but Valencia defended with everything they had.  Izan, despite dragging Valencia into the game single-handedly, was everywhere-tracking back to help his defenders, holding up the ball to relieve pressure, and driving forward whenever the opportunity arose.

As the referee blew the final whistle, the Valencia players collapsed to the ground, exhausted but proud.

Izan stood tall, his name echoing from the away section as the traveling fans chanted his name.

A/n: 2 out of 4.

Have fun reading.

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