Johnson chased him down, his legs now heavy and slow. Benjamin curved his run inward, then pulled it back onto his left and rolled a pass to Henriksen, who immediately gave it back.
Benjamin paused on the edge of the 18 yard box. This time, he wasn't looking for the shot. He was waiting for support.
Martens arrived.
A flick. A dummy. Back to Benjamin.
He shifted his body weight, danced left, then dragged the ball right, creating just enough space for a cross.
He curled it in low, flat, and fast.
Too quick for Altidore, but it flashed through the six-yard box.
Any touch would have done it.
But none came.
Reina dove anyway, palms low, then scrambled to his feet and screamed for someone to mark.
[He's still dangerous.]
[They've given him too much room again.]
Liverpool recovered possession quickly, trying to exploit the gap left behind.
