God Of football-Chapter 284: Knockout Football [Georgia]

The bus doors hissed open. A wave of cameras and flashing lights met the Spanish national team as they stepped onto the pavement outside RheinEnergieStadion

The air was thick with anticipation—this was the Round of 16, and mistakes could not be undone.

Izan adjusted the strap of his bag and followed the team inside, the rhythmic chants of the Spanish supporters reverberating through the tunnels.

The stadium was already filling, pockets of red and yellow dominating the stands. This was not just another game; this was where the tournament truly began.

Inside the dressing room, the players settled into their routines. Pedri sat on the bench, lacing up his boots with a quiet focus.

Rodri stood near the tactical board, exchanging final thoughts with the coaching staff.

Lamine Yamal, leaned against the lockers, bobbing his head to the music playing through his headphones.

Izan took his place on the bench and began wrapping his wrists. He wasn’t in the starting eleven today.

Luis de la Fuente had opted for Dani Olmo in the midfield, a move that made sense tactically. But he knew he would be needed today.

Luis de la Fuente stepped to the center of the room. The conversations died down instantly.

"Alright, listen up." His voice carried the authority of a man who had been here before.

"We know what Georgia brings. They’re going to sit deep, hit us on the counter.

We cannot afford to be careless in transition. Control the tempo, move the ball quickly, and be patient. The goal will come."

He turned to Olmo. "Dani, drop between the lines and give them problems. Find the gaps." Then, to Rodri, "Dictate the pace. Keep everyone calm."

The final moments before kickoff passed in a blur. Jerseys pulled on. Boots tightened. A last-minute stretch. Then the signal came. It was time.

The players walked down the tunnel, stepping into the arena where the noise swelled to a deafening roar.

Izan jogged onto the grass, taking in the atmosphere. Even from the bench, he could feel it—the weight of expectation, the thrill of the unknown.

The anthem played. The referee checked his watch. The stadium held its breath.

The whistle blew.

...

" Good evening folks and welcome to the RheinEnergieStadion! We are already underway and Spain, in their traditional red, immediately take control, while Georgia, in white, set up in their deep defensive shape, looking to strike on the counter."

From the opening minutes, Spain’s dominance was clear.

The ball zipped between Rodri, Pedri, and Dani Olmo as they searched for gaps in Georgia’s disciplined defensive structure.

Lamine Yamal, hugging the right touchline, saw plenty of the ball early.

In the 6th minute, he received a switch from Cucurella, sized up Kakabadze, and then burst inside with a sharp cut.

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A quick one-two with Morata sent him into the box, but Kverkvelia slid in with a perfectly timed challenge to clear the danger.

"Early warning signs from Spain! Lamine Yamal already causing problems down that right-hand side!"

Spain kept up the pressure. Pedri, always scanning, slipped a delicate ball through to Olmo, who turned sharply and fired from the edge of the box—Mamardashvili got down well to smother it.

But Georgia were dangerous. They waited patiently, then struck with terrifying speed.

"Ohhh, would you believe it?! Georgia take the lead, and it’s a nightmare moment for Robin Le Normand!"

It started with a simple clearance. Spain had Georgia pinned back, but a long ball from Chakvetadze flipped the game in an instant.

Kvaratskhelia sprinted into space, leaving Navas behind. He looked up, spotted Mikautadze making a run, and drilled a low cross into the box.

Le Normand, trying to cut it out, mistimed his touch. The ball skidded off his shin and flew past Unai Simón at the near post.

Stunned silence. Then, an explosion of noise from the Georgian fans.

Le Normand buried his face in his hands. Kvaratskhelia pumped his fists, roaring toward his teammates.

"This was not in the script! Georgia lead, and now Spain have to chase!"

Spain didn’t panic, but there was an immediate shift in intensity. The ball moved faster, and the passes were sharper.

Morata, frustrated with Georgia’s deep block, dropped into midfield to link up play.

In the 23rd minute, he received the ball near the center circle, turned, and sent a perfectly weighted through ball to Nico Williams.

The winger raced into the box, chopped inside onto his left foot, and curled a shot toward the far corner—

"Ohhh, just wide! Nico Williams inches away from the equalizer!"

Spain kept pushing. Pedri and Olmo combined on the edge of the box, Pedri flicking the ball into space for Lamine Yamal.

The 16-year-old let it roll across his body then unleashed a left-footed strike—

Blocked! Kverkvelia threw himself in the way. The ball bounced loose, and Rodri followed up with a thunderous volley—

Saved! Mamardashvili reacted brilliantly, diving to his right to parry the shot.

"Spain knocking on the door, but Georgia refuse to let them in!"

And yet, Georgia were not just surviving—they were still threatening.

In the 31st minute, a misplaced pass from Cucurella sparked another Georgian break. Kvaratskhelia picked up the ball in midfield and drove forward with a terrifying pace.

Spain scrambled to recover, but he slipped a pass to Mikautadze, who found himself in space just outside the box.

He opened his body and curled a shot toward the top corner—

"Mikautadze… just over! A huge let-off for Spain!"

Spain couldn’t afford to keep conceding these chances and they knew it.

A few minutes after Georgia’s attack, a goal came and it came from persistence. Spain had been hammering away, and finally, Georgia cracked.

A quick switch from Pedri found Nico Williams, who drove at his defender and won a corner. Lamine Yamal swung it in, the ball was half-cleared to the edge of the box—

Rodri was waiting.

One touch to set himself, then a low, precise strike through the crowded penalty area. The ball skimmed past defenders, past outstretched legs—

And into the bottom corner.

"GOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAALLLL"

"RODRI! SPAIN ARE LEVEL!"

No celebration concurred. Rodri just picked up the ball and jogged back toward midfield. There was no time to waste.

The Spanish fans roared, knowing this was just the beginning.

....

The players walked down the tunnel at the RheinEnergieStadion, Spain having restored parity but still locked in a battle with Georgia.

The tension was thick. In the Spanish dressing room, Luis de la Fuente paced near the tactical board, speaking in measured but firm tones.

"We’re controlling the game, but we’re letting them breathe too much," he said, pointing at the defensive third.

"Their counters are fast, and if we lose concentration for even a second, they will punish us again."

Rodri, still breathing heavily from his equalizer, nodded. Spain’s midfield had dictated play, but Georgia remained dangerous.

De la Fuente continued, shifting focus. "We need to stretch them more. Lamine, Nico—wider. Dani, move between the lines. Morata, stay central. We keep the pressure on. The next goal must be ours."

In a quieter corner of the room, Izan finished adjusting his gear. He exchanged a brief nod with a couple of teammates before quietly taking his seat among the substitutes.

He didn’t vocalize his thoughts or inner resolve; instead, he simply absorbed the tactical instructions and the measured tone of the coach’s voice.

...….

Back on the pitch, the second half was about to begin and the fans were all in for it. The crowd’s roar swelled as the players re-emerged from the tunnel.

The atmosphere in the stadium was electric—a blend of expectancy and focus that set the stage for the unfolding drama.

On the bench, Izan watched as his teammates came onto the pitch.

The collective energy was palpable, with every instruction from de la Fuente resonating in the careful spacing and calculated runs that had already started to reshape the game.

After a while, the whistle blew to signal the restart. In the first minutes of the second half, Spain maintained their methodical approach.

Pedri slid a crisp pass to Dani, who quickly exchanged one-twos with Morata along the edge of the box.

Lamine drifted wide, stretching the Georgian defense as planned, while Nico found pockets of space near the sideline to receive a long diagonal ball.

"Spain are clearly implementing the halftime adjustments," the commentary boomed over the stadium speakers.

"The players are moving wider, and the pressure is mounting on the Georgian defense."

As Spain pressed forward, the game began to take on a back-and-forth quality. A sequence of rapid exchanges saw Dani and Pedri linking up to break through a momentary gap in the opposition’s defense.

A well-timed cross from Lamine met Nico’s path, forcing a scramble among the Georgian defenders.

The ball ricocheted off a body, landing at the feet of Rodri, who attempted a low drive toward goal in the same manner he had when he scored in the first half.

Giorgi Marmadashvilli was alert and managed to nudge the shot away, maintaining the balance for a brief spell.

The Spanish fans groaned at the save but they knew, something was edging close.