Football singularity-Chapter 547 Adrian Again

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"Oh, it’s a late slide from Alexander-Arnold—but Rakim’s just managed to leap over it at the last moment," Peter Drury commented as the young winger landed in a stagger, using his hand to keep himself upright. "He may have hit the ball, but Rakim looks less than pleased by the challenge."

True to his words, he could be seen with his arms raised in a questioning manner at the referee. "Danny Makkelie doesn’t seem to think that challenge warrants a free kick and merely motions for them to take the throw-in. However, you can understand the players’ frustration after having suffered an injury against this very team in the first leg." Clive Tyldesley commented as the young star shook his head in disbelief before going to pick up the ball for the throw-in.

Rakim took a deep breath, rolling his neck once before wiping the slick ball against his shirt. The jeers from the Anfield crowd rolled over him in waves, showing their displeasure at what they perceived as him trying to get one of their players booked. He didn’t care, though, as he used one of his hands to gesture at Leon and Kai, only to hear someone yell, "What the BLEEP are you doing? Drop the ball?"

Looking over to where the voice was coming from, Peter Bosz’s annoyed glare met him. Throwing a sheepish thumbs-up to the coach, he rolled the ball to Sinkgraven, who awkwardly jogged up to take the throw-in. That was just a small episode in the dying minutes of the match, which suddenly intensified in momentum.

Unlike before, where the Germans were content with defending their lead, they now actively countered. Sinkgraven’s throw found its way to Havertz, who cushioned it with his chest before spinning away from Henderson’s pressing. The midfielder’s touch was sublime, setting himself up perfectly for a through ball into the box.

"Brilliant play from Havertz there. Can Leon reach it, though?" Drury observed, his voice rising as the spectators rose to their feet. "Virgil van Dijk!"

The defender managed to slide forward, his boot connecting with the ball, doing just enough to deflect the ball towards Adrian. The keeper wasted no time booting the ball out of his penalty area.

The clearance sailed high into the night air, arcing over the halfway line where James Milner rose to meet it at the halfway line. With a solid tilt of the head, he nudged it forward to the stationary Origi who was holding off Tah. Instead of stopping the ball on the bounce, he flicked it behind into the area behind Bender.

[85]

Mane, anticipating the pass, managed to beat Bender to the punch, but the fullback quickly caught up, doing his best to hold him off. He drove toward the edge of the box, his strides quick and deceptive, but Bender refused to back off. Shoulder to shoulder, they went—one trying to cut inside, the other denying every sliver of space.

As Mane attempted to feint left, Bender lunged with a well-timed hook of the leg. He got a clean boot to the ball, the tackle’s momentum sending both players tumbling over the slick grass. "Lars Bender, with a captain’s challenge!" Tyldesley said. "It had to be perfect—and it was."

A quick glance from the referee confirmed no foul, and the crowd’s groans turned into groans of frustration. Before either side could reorganise, Tapsoba swooped in, picking up the loose ball. Looking up the flank, he spotted Amiri, who had just crossed the halfway line with his marker in tow.

Without much thought, he sent a weighted through ball along the line that curved back into the field as Amiri and Robertson chased after it. Amiri reached it first, just before the ball could roll across his body, and having to slow down to control the ball gave Robertson just enough time to catch up with him. Not minding the defender who tried to get in front of him, he chopped it back inside with his right foot, wrong-footing Robertson and darting away down the wing.

The German midfielder didn’t have Bailey’s raw pace, but his tight control was one of the best in the team. His effectiveness was evident, as he controlled the ball with ease despite the wet surface. Breaking past Robertson, he entered in full stride as Gomez chased after him from his left.

He kept his composure under the pressure from Gomez, his head turned left and right to scan for options. Spotting Palacios, who had wandered up the field, he sent a backheel pass and angled his run back towards the corner flag.

Palacios adjusted with a deft first touch, checking his shoulder as Wijnaldum came sliding in. Calmly, he nudged the ball forward and sent a looping diagonal pass toward the opposing side of the box, where Rakim had ghosted in front of Trent. He feinted a shot as the ball descended, forcing Trent to move, but he merely tapped it down.

Before the Liverpool right-back could regroup, Rakim sent a rabona pass towards the corner flag. Sinkgraven surged past them a second later, whipping a first-time cross into the box. The ball curled wickedly through the rain-slick air, skimming just over the back-tracking Milner’s head at the near post. It bent into the six-yard box, where Leon Bailey and Van Dijk flung themselves at it.

"Leon Bailey arriving!" Peter Drury exclaimed as his diving header caught the ball flush, sending it bulleting toward the bottom-left corner. Adrian reacted late, but Lady Luck was on his side as it clipped the inside of the post!

"It’s off the woodwork! It’s chaos in there!" Tyldesley exclaimed as the ball ricocheted out into a scramble of legs. Many a foot poked at sending it bouncing until it eventually trickled out to Amiri on the right edge of the box.

He faked a shot and moved out of the way of Robertson’s slide tackle attempt. Managing to take aim despite the mass of bodies rushing out, he swung his weaker left foot, going more for precision rather than power. The shot bent low through the crowd—a skimming drive that kissed the greasy grass and looked destined for the far corner.

"Amiri with a curler—" Drury exclaimed as Adrian, despite seeing the ball late, launched himself low and right, fingertips brushing the ball just enough to alter its course. It clipped the base of the post again and cannoned off out for a corner.

[90]

The corner flag flapped wildly in the wind as Rakim jogged over, wiping his forearm across his brow. The Anfield crowd was at full volume now—whistles, boos, and the hum of anxiety coiled together. Time was running out, and the away side made no effort to speed up their play.

The fourth official’s board lifted, showcasing three added minutes, much to the displeasure of both teams for entirely different reasons. The home side wanted more minutes, and for the away side, three minutes were three too many. "Three minutes. Three long, agonising minutes left for Liverpool... and three short, golden ones for Leverkusen to hold."

Rakim placed the ball precisely, making sure to wipe away stray strands of grass before finally stepping back to angle for the setpiece. He wasted another good ten seconds before whipping in a dangerous cross aimed at the back post into the box. The cross took a wicked arc, angling just beyond the reach of Adrian and into the mass of bodies. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Tapsoba climbed highest, beating Van Dijk to the ball with a crunching leap, but only managed to graze it with the back of his head. The flick sent the ball pinballing dangerously across the six-yard box. Bailey lunged in, trying to toe-poke it home, but a lunge from Gomez deflected outwards.

It awkwardly bounced Palacios’ way, and the midfielder tried to get a foot on it, but the angle was too tight, and he only ended up getting a shin to it. His makeshift shot ricocheted off Milner’s thigh before trickling out to Havertz at the edge of the box. As the ball rolled toward him, he shaped his body, drawing his leg back, looking to take the shot the first time.

With defenders rushing out, he had milliseconds to decide where he wanted to place it. Picking out an angle, he didn’t hesitate to blast it forward with all his strength. The shot blazed low and hard, threading through a forest of legs—only for Adrian to dive brilliantly to his left, parrying it with an open palm!

"Adrian again! The Spaniard refuses to go quietly!"

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To Be Continued...