God Of football - Chapter 214

Chapter 214: Sly Chapter 214: Sly As the clock ticked closer to halftime, the score remained deadlocked at 0-0.

The atmosphere in the Mestalla Stadium was electric, the passionate fans chanting and cheering, urging their team to break the deadlock With just five minutes left in the first half, Izan jogged toward José Gayà, the captain and a veteran leader on the pitch.

Almeida and Pietro joined them near the edge of the penalty box during a brief lull in play after winning a throw-in.

The four formed a tight huddle, speaking in hushed tones to avoid giving away their strategy.

“Alright,” Izan began, his voice steady despite the pressure.

“We need to catch them off guard.

Gaya, you overlap down the left and pull their right back out of position.

Almeida stays central and draws their defensive midfielder away from the edge of the box.

Pietro, make a near-post run to drag the center-backs.

I’ll come in late for the second ball.

If they hesitate for even a second, we’ll punish them.” The players nodded, each visualizing their role in the sequence.

Gayà clapped Izan on the shoulder.

“You’ve got this, kid.

Let’s make it happen.” As play resumed, Valencia earned a throw-in deep in the opponent’s half.

Gayà quickly took it, passing it to Almeida, who immediately laid it off to Izan.

Izan, with his signature blend of composure and flair, executed a feint that left his marker stumbling.

He passed back to Gayà, who had sprinted into the overlapping position as planned.

Gayà sent a low-driven cross into the box, just as Pietro darted toward the near post, dragging both center-backs with him.

Almeida hovered just outside the penalty area, drawing the defensive midfielder.

The ball skimmed past Pietro, exactly as designed, and found its way to Izan, who had positioned himself perfectly at the edge of the six-yard box.

Without hesitation, Izan unleashed a curling first-time shot with his left foot, sending the ball sailing past the outstretched goalkeeper into the top corner of the net.

The stadium erupted into a cacophony of cheers and applause, the roar deafening as Valencia fans celebrated the breakthrough.

“Gayà with the overlap…he whips in a low cross…Pietro’s movement is brilliant, and-wait!

Here’s Izan at the back post!

He hits it!

GOOOOOOAL!!!

Izan does it again!

What a strike from the 16-year-old sensation!

Valencia leads 1-0 just before halftime!” The commentator’s voice crescendoed with excitement, his words echoing the disbelief and joy of the fans.

The Mestalla erupted into pandemonium.

Fans jumped to their feet, waving scarves and flags, chanting Izan’s name.

The Ultras in the Curva Nord section ignited flares, their passion illuminating the already electric atmosphere.

“Izan!

Izan!

Izan!” the chants grew louder, as supporters embraced one another in celebration.

On the pitch, Izan was mobbed by his teammates, Gayà lifting him off the ground in a bear hug.

Almeida and Pietro ruffled his hair, grinning from ear to ear.

Izan, though composed, couldn’t hide the spark of pride in his eyes.

He pointed to the sky in a quiet moment of gratitude before turning to the fans, raising his arms to acknowledge their support.

As the referee blew the whistle to signal halftime, Valencia walked off the pitch with renewed energy, their one-goal lead a testament to their teamwork and Izan’s brilliance.

The fans continued to cheer, their belief in their young star soaring to new heights.

In the locker room, the players rallied around Izan.

“You’re a magician, kid,” Gayà said, clapping him on the back.

Izam smiled at Gaya’s words before simply walking to his locker.

…..

On the other hand, the atmosphere in the Real Betis locker room was tense.

The players sat on benches, some catching their breath, others replaying Valencia’s goal in their minds.

The coach, a sharp-eyed tactician with a reputation for analyzing young talent, strode in with purpose.

He clapped his hands, commanding attention.

“Listen up!” he barked.

“We’ve been outplayed by a 16-year-old.

That’s unacceptable, as we expected, but I think I might have figured him out.” [At this point, every coach does] The players exchanged glances, some skeptical, others intrigued.

The coach grabbed a marker and stood in front of the tactics board, circling Izan’s position repeatedly.

“This kid-this Izan-is brilliant, no doubt,” he admitted.

“But brilliance often comes with predictability, especially with players so young.

He thrives in space, he loves late runs, and he’s always thinking two steps ahead.

We’re going to cut off his supply and isolate him.” He pointed at his midfielders.

“First, double-mark him whenever he drops deep to collect the ball.

Don’t give him time to think.

Juanmi, that’s on you.

Press him hard, but don’t foul unless you absolutely have to.

Make him rush his decisions.” Turning to his defenders, the coach continued, “Second, if he tries those late runs, we stick to zone marking.

Don’t follow Pietro or Almeida if they drag you out of position.

Stay compact and force Izan to run into traffic.

The moment he hesitates, we win the ball back.” Finally, he addressed the team as a whole.

“We’re not just stopping him-we’re frustrating him.

He’s young; if we shut him down early in the second half, he’ll lose confidence.

Then, we hit them on the counter.

Let’s turn this game around!” The players nodded, their confidence slowly returning.

One defender, Chadi Riad smirked.

“He’s good, but let’s see how he handles being suffocated.” The coach gave a tight smile.

“Exactly.

Make him invisible, and Valencia will crumble.

Now get out there and show them what we’re made of!” As the players filed out of the locker room, there was a renewed determination in their eyes.

Whether or not the plan would work, one thing was certain-Real Betis wasn’t going to make things easy for Izan in the second half.

The second half kicked off with Real Betis executing their coach’s instructions to the letter.

Izan found himself swarmed every time he touched the ball, with Juanmi pressing him aggressively and another midfielder cutting off his passing lanes.

The Valencia fans grew restless as their team struggled to find the same rhythm that had led to the first goal.

Izan, however, remained calm.

Every time he received the ball, he absorbed the pressure, playing short, safe passes back to his midfielders.

To the untrained eye, it seemed like he had been neutralized.

But in Izan’s mind, the game was a chessboard, and he was setting up the next move.

In the 68th minute, Valencia managed to recover possession deep in their half.

Gayà quickly pushed forward, feeding the ball to Almeida, who in turn passed it to Izan near the halfway line.

Once again, the Real Betis players converged on him like moths to a flame.

The commentary team noticed the shift and commented on it.

“Real Betis have done an excellent job of shutting Izan down so far in this half.

Every time he gets the ball, he’s got two, sometimes three players around him.” “Exactly.

It looks like the teenager is struggling to find space or make an impact like he did in the first half.” But Izan wasn’t struggling-he was baiting them.

With a quick glance, he spotted Hugo Duro making a darting diagonal run between the center-backs.

Izan feigned a pass to Gayà on the wing, drawing the defenders toward the left.

Then, with a moment of sheer brilliance, he slipped a perfectly weighted through ball between two Betis players, threading the needle like a seasoned maestro.

Duro latched onto the pass, his first touch immaculate as he raced toward goal.

The goalkeeper rushed out, but Duro kept his composure, slotting the ball past him and into the bottom corner.

“What a pass!

Izan, out of nowhere, with a defense-splitting through ball!

Hugo Duro is in…and GOOOOOOOOAL!

Valencia doubles their lead, and it’s that young man again orchestrating the magic!” “Incredible vision from Izan!

Just when we thought Real Betis had him under control, he proves why he’s the best player on this pitch tonight!” The Mestalla erupted once more, the fans now chanting not just Izan’s name but also Hugo Duro’s.

The Valencia players swarmed Duro in celebration, while Izan, grinning knowingly, pointed to his temple as he jogged back to his half.

The camera panned to the Real Betis coach on the sidelines, his face a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

He threw his hands up, muttering under his breath as he turned to his assistant.

“He played us…” On the pitch, the Real Betis players were visibly rattled.

Juanmi, who had been tasked with marking Izan, slammed the ball into the ground in frustration.

“How did he see that pass?” he muttered, shaking his head.

The Valencia supporters were in full voice now, the Mestalla rocking with chants of, “¡Izan, Izan, nuestro campeón!” One fan, holding up a banner that read “The Wizard of Mestalla”, turned to the person next to him and shouted, “Amunt¡ Valencia” As the players reset for the restart, Izan gave a quick nod to Hugo Duro and a sly smile to the Real Betis defenders.

They had tried to stop him, but Izan had proven once again that he was always a step ahead.

The second goal wasn’t just a moment of brilliance-it was a statement: Izan could adapt to anything.

A/n: second of the day.

Sorry guys I updated the wrong chapter.

Anyways have fun and I’ll see you in a bit.

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