Danilo shook his head in disbelief, but deep down, he knew. He had lost control.
Francesco Guidolin turned away, muttering under his breath. His team, who had played with a man advantage for so long, were now level in numbers.
Benjamin sat up as the medics checked him over. A brief exchange ensued between them, followed by a nod, and then he was on his feet, rolling his ankle carefully. He was fine.
The away crowd erupted in cheers.
[David, Benjamin is back up! That's a warrior's mentality right there!]
[And Marco, the good news for AZ Alkmaar faithfuls—It's all square now! Ten men each! Game on!]
Gertjan Verbeek clapped his hands, shouting instructions. His players responded with newfound energy, their belief surging.
They could do this... They would do this. The final minutes were going to be a war.
Gertjan Verbeek wasted no time. He turned back to the bench, his eyes locked on Adam Maher.
"Now!" he barked.
