The cross curled in, dipping dangerously toward the penalty spot.
Nwofor leapt, connecting with a powerful headertraight at Esteban.
Rob: [Right at the keeper!]
A collective exhale from the crowd. Esteban Alvarado clutched the ball to his chest, holding on as if his life depended on it. For a second, he didn't move—just lay there, catching his breath, letting the tension settle.
Chris: [That was the moment. If Nwofor had placed it anywhere else, this game could've been level]
Benjamin's leg wouldn't stop bouncing. He checked the clock. Eighteen minutes left. Still too much time.
Alvarado finally rose, scanning the pitch before rolling it short to Gorter. No need to rush. They had the lead.
AZ Alkmaar tried to slow it down, but VVV-Venlo weren't having it. They pressed high, forcing mistakes, forcing long balls that were easily won back.
And now—here came another attack.
