The Greatest of all Time

Chapter 50: A Counterattack

FC Riga kicked-off the first half strongly, passing the ball around the pitch from end to end. Their players arrayed themselves in a 4-4-2 attacking formation. The Latvian fans cheered them on loudly, boosting their morale as the scales tilted in the Riga team's favor.

The NF academy players followed Coach Johansen's instructions to the letter. Ten men stayed behind the ball and left the Riga boys to pass the ball around as much as they wished. Their goal was to lure the Riga team into a false sense of security before killing them off with counterattacks. They were playing a style similar to that adopted by Greece in the 2004 Euro Cup. They were focused on defending first and scoring later if an opportunity arose.

The Riga team pushed Zachary and his teammates back into their half without giving them many opportunities to win back the ball. For the first 12 minutes, they held the majority of the possession, almost 75% percent by Zachary's estimation.

They played short grounded passes at a leisurely pace, advancing deeper towards the NF academy's box. None of their players held on to the ball for more than four touches before passing it on. It was like they were fighting for possession rather than a chance to penetrate the NF academy's box.

Their four midfielders often arrayed themselves in a diamond formation to receive and distribute passes effectively. Their number-6 was the defensive point of the diamond. He ensured that Riga's attacking midfielders always had a free back by positioning himself in front of the defenders.

Their wingers filled the two positions on the left and right of their diamond. The wingers helped out in the middle, relieving their number-6 of the insignificant pressure imposed by Zachary and his teammates. Although the Riga passes were a bit rough around the edges, they were still fluid—at least at the level of an under-18 academy team.

Their short blonde captain completed the diamond as the attacking midfielder. He caused Zachary and his teammates a few problems. He had a good eye for the ball and—was technically strong, sometimes letting loose teasing passes that beat the NF Academy defenders.

In the 12th minute, he unleashed one such a lofted pass from the center circle. One of Riga's forwards latched on to it at the edge of the box after leaving Magnus in the dust. The Riga number-9, a tall dark-haired fellow, controlled the ball with ease and unleashed a right-footed shot that smashed off the crossbar.

The Riga number-9 cursed in a foreign language at the NF academy's good luck. Zachary and his teammates, though, were not the least bit fazed by Riga's missed chance. They had faced similar situations in their friendly matches against the Rosenborg teams a few months prior.

Robin Jatta, NF academy's center-back, timed the resulting ball perfectly and cleared it out of the box with a bicycle kick. Zachary chased after it, following its trajectory mid-air. Four of his teammates that had been defending against Riga's relentless barrage of attacks also followed in quick succession. The boys in blue ran like a pack of wolves with the intent to attack immediately after regaining the ball.

Zachary had already predicted where the ball would land using his Zinedine-Visual-Juju. With his long strides, in motion like the wheels of a racing bike, he got to the ball faster than all the other players in the defensive midfield.

He didn't let it bounce since that would slow down his pace. He chested the ball to the side and wedged it with his angled foot, bringing it under his control with motions as fluid as water.

He then spun and took off towards the other side of the pitch without a pause. He didn't want to waste a single second since Coach Johansen had instructed him to utilize every counterattacking chance to catch the Riga team off-guard. He would follow the coach's instructions to the letter and score a winning goal as quickly as possible.

On looking ahead, he realized that Örjan Börmark, the academy's lone striker, had freed himself from his mark and was running towards the right-wing.

Zachary didn't hesitate to kick the ball towards him without pausing his run. The two of them played a one-two, getting past two Riga midfielders, and soon stepped into the opposing half. Their passing was seamless, exploiting the spaces in the wings, bearing down on Riga's goal.

Soon, Zachary decided to go solo since Örjan couldn't match his pace. After collecting a short pass from the striker, he bolted towards Riga's 18-yard box like his life depended on it. He was much faster than he had been a few months prior, thanks to his grueling winter training and consumption of the D-grade agility elixir.

A defender extended his long legs to steal the ball at his feet. However, Zachary flicked the ball to his left foot, beyond the defender's reach, and continued his dash towards Riga's goal. He wove past the four defenders with his formidable alternating pace, like a drifting cloud blown by the wind.

Zachary had nothing else in his sights except for two obstacles; the defenders blocking his path towards Riga's goal.

He didn't pause to dribble, but circled past them, cutting into the pitch, towards the box. He was sure they couldn't match his speed. In his mind, he was already picturing the way he would beat the goalkeeper and score NF academy's first goal.

However, as he got past the second to last defender before entering Riga's box, he felt a tug on his shirt. Zachary cursed inwardly as the defender's foul play messed up his dribbling rhythm, slowing him down. Worst of all, the center-back would get away without a red-card since he hadn't been the last man. NF academy's counter would then end up fruitless unless they scored from the resulting freekick.

He didn't want to bet on his Bend-it like Beckham Juju since he hadn't perfected it yet. He focused his mind, searching for a way to shake off the defender. However, the grip on his shirt tightened, pulling him back and almost taking him to the ground. Zachary's mood sank. He started planning to dramatize his tumble, hopefully influencing the referee to send off the player that was holding him back.

However, in the corner of his eye, he noticed a dark shadow rushing by—into the box. The Zinedine-Visual-Juju was at work again.

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