Football singularity-Chapter 672 Peneka
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[09/12/2020 | Santiago Bernabéu, Madrid | 21:10 Local Time]
[UEFA Champions League Group Stage MD6 | Real Madrid vs Bayer 04 Leverkusen]
[11]
The match's intensity rose as both sides settled into their rhythm. The battle in the midfield noticeably intensified as the German side started fighting for ground. Casemiro clattered into Wirtz in midfield, stopping the German teenager's run as he hit the turf hard. Despite the Germans' protests, the Italian referee gave no foul.
Madrid built from the stop as Kross picked up the loose ball, speeding up the tempo. He pinged a pass forward to Modrić. The Croatian flicked it to Asensio on the right. The Spanish winger had been quiet so far, but now he came alive.
He took on Wendell with a sharp stepover, creating separation, then drove into the box. His shot was curled toward the far corner, but Hradecky got down quickly, gathering it safely in his gloves cleanly. The Finnish keeper immediately jumped up, sprinting to the edge of the box, looking to spark a counter, throwing it quickly to Sven Bender.
The German centre-back played it forward to Baumgartlinger, who was already under pressure from Benzema. He managed to poke it through to Wirtz, who had dropped deep again to create a passing option.
[15]
Wirtz turned, evading Casemiro's challenge with a deft touch, dribbling forward with pace as Leverkusen swarmed forward with numbers. Schick was making a run, dragging Varane with him. Rakim was charging up the left wing, and Diaby was wide on the right. Madrid's defence remained composed despite the pressure as the midfielders converged on him.
Wirtz drove forward ten yards, drawing Modrić toward him. At the last second, he played a perfectly weighted pass into the channel between Ramos and Mendy. Rakim timed his cut to perfection, staying onside by inches as he latched onto the ball.
He burst into space, his acceleration leaving both defenders trailing, but the ball took him away from the goal. Courtois rushed out, closing the angle, but Rakim had options, so he cut back with a simple L drag, creating some separation. Schick was racing to the far post while Diaby cut across the box to the penalty spot.
Rakim's right foot met the ball, but instead of shooting, he guided it across the box, skipping past Varane's outstretched leg. Diaby was there, the goal gaping; he had to tap it in, but as his foot met the ball, a white jersey slid in to block it. "Casemiro!!" Rae exclaimed as the Brazilians foot deflected the ball beyond the post out for a corner. "He hustled back and made it in time to save his team on the line."
"What hustle from the holding midfielder," Robson said admiringly. "Thirty-yard sprint back to make that interception, Incredible athletic prowess."
[18']
Rakim swung in a dangerous inswinger toward the near post from the corner flag. Bodies converged in the six-yard box—white shirts and red shirts battling for position. Tapsoba attacked it, his run taking him past Ramos, his header a powerful, glancing off the top of his head toward goal.
Courtois reacted instinctively, punching it clear with both fists. The ball fell to Aránguiz at the edge of the box, who struck it first-time on the volley. The shot was rising toward the top corner—Varane threw himself into the path, the ball smashing against his shoulder and ricocheting out of play. The French defender crumpled to the turf, grimacing in pain, but immediately signalled he was okay.
"Another block!" Rae shouted. "Real Madrid is defending desperately here! Leverkusen are all over them!"
"This is not what Zidane would have expected," Robson added. "Madrid are supposed to control these matches, but Leverkusen are matching them blow for blow. The young Germans are fearless."
[26]
Real Madrid finally steadied themselves, reasserting control through their experienced midfield. Kroos dropped deeper, almost playing as a third centre-back, dictating from there. His passing was metronomic—left to right, short and long, always finding white shirts.
In the 28th minute, he received a pass from Ramos and turned away from Wirtz's press, looking for space ahead. Modrić had drifted into a pocket between Leverkusen's midfield and defence, and the German midfielder threaded a pass with surgical precision. Modrić took one touch to control, his body already turning toward the goal.
Baumgartlinger tried to close him down, but the Croatian was too quick, his second touch a backheel that completely bamboozled the Austrian midfielder, playing it into Benzema's feet. The French striker was surrounded—Tapsoba in front, Sven Bender to his left. His technical quality shone through as he cushioned the ball with his right boot and executed a quick Cruyff turn that left Tapsoba grasping at air.
Suddenly, he was facing goal, twelve yards out, only Hradecky to beat. He shaped to shoot with his right foot, the goalkeeper already committing—Then Benzema dragged it onto his left, creating another yard of space. His shot was placed, not powerful, aimed for the bottom left corner.
Hradecky launched himself, fully extended, his left hand reaching desperately—his fingertips grazed the ball, just enough to divert it onto the inside of the post. The ball rebounded back into play, Asensio pouncing on it, but Wendell was there first, clearing frantically for a corner.
"HOW IS IT STILL NIL-NIL?!" Robson's voice cracked with disbelief. "That's three world-class saves from Hradecky! The Finnish goalkeeper is on fire again!"
[31']
In the 31st minute, the Germans caught the Spaniard on a counter. Madrid pushed too many bodies forward for yet another attack, with Ramos once again surging forward. Right back Lucas Vázquez's delivery was cleared by Tapsoba, his header finding Wirtz in space just outside his own box.
The German teenager didn't hesitate turning with the descending ball as he brought it under control. He immediately dribbled forward without even thinking as the attacking quartet once again charged forward. Schick was sprinting up the middle, Rakim and Diaby bombing forward on the wings. Madrid had only three defenders back—Varane, Mendy, and Casemiro scrambling to recover.
Wirtz drove forward twenty yards, the ball glued to his feet as he crossed the halfway line. Ramos, like a freight train, gave chase but couldn't catch him. Past the centre circle, he looked up and released a powerful through ball down the right flank.
Diaby was covered by Mendy, who exploded forward, staying onside long enough, his pace taking him clear, staying onside by an arm's length. Mendy gave chase, his long strides eating up ground, as he tried to guide him wide, but the advantage was with the Frenchman.
Twenty-five yards from the goal, with the box fast approaching, he came to a sudden stop, turning past the chasing midfield. He cut the ball across the top of the box into Schick's run, but the forward let the ball roll through his legs. Varane did the same subconciosly, and the ball slipped to the left edge of the box.
Casemiro, who had tried his head to face the ball, couldn't react in time as Rakim cut across in front of him, latching onto the ball. He turned to give chase, stretching his hand out, trying to halt the winger, but he remained firm, shaping to shoot. Courtois rushed out, trying to close the angle, making himself big.
Rakim took one touch into the box with his right foot, setting himself up as he tried to push the defender off him. But the man seemed to have taken his left arm into a vice grip, unwilling to let go. His danger sense tingled, and he immediately abandoned the ball, nudging it lightly as he jumped, tucking his feet.
Varane slid in desperately, his outstretched leg catching Rakim's trailing foot. Casemiro's tug lost all resistance, pulling him backwards as he tumbled to the ground with a painful thud, the ball spinning away harmlessly. Orsato's whistle pierced the air immediately as he sprinted to the box, his arm pointed to the spot.
"PENALTY LEVERKUSEN!" Rae's voice exploded. "The referee has given it! Raphaël and Casemiro have brought down Rakim Rex!"
The stadium erupted in protest figures of white converging, trying to talk to the referee. Rakim on the ground rubbed his back with a grimace, barely catching the ensuing chaos when a voice spoke as he felt a tug on his arm, trying to pull him up. "Don't milk it, that was barely a love tap," Casemiro said in broken English, but before he could even finish, a figure in red shoved him back.
"Oh, looks like things are getting rowdy," Robson said in surprise, watching the happenings below. Baumgartlinger, who had just arrived at the scene, did not appreciate the Brazilians actions and shoved him back without hesitation.
Baumgartlinger's shove sent Casemiro stumbling back, sparks flying instantly between both sets of players. Ramos stormed in, chesting up to the Austrian, hands raised in warning. Sven Bender moved between them at once, palms out, corralling his teammate while Benzema and Modrić pulled Ramos away.
Daniele Orsato cut through the chaos with sharp blasts of his whistle.
"Enough!" he barked, separating the groups with sweeping gestures. He pointed first at Baumgartlinger, pulling him aside and giving a stern warning, next at Raphaël Varane and Casemiro, who both received a yellow for their challenges.
Rakim finally rose to his feet, brushing dirt from his kit as the Bernabéu jeered.
"And now," Derek Rae said, breath tight with anticipation, "Leverkusen have a golden chance to take the lead at the Bernabéu."
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To Be Continued...
