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[85]
At the whistle, Rakim ran over it and peeled left; Demirbay went direct instead, fizzing a dipping strike toward Neuer’s near upper right corner. The strike carried venom as it beat the wall, taking the shortest distance to the goal. Neue clocked it, though, as he shuffled along his line, with a quick set of side steps before springing into the air.
His right hand punched the dipping ball up and over, the leather kissing his knuckles before skimming the roof of the net. The slap of his landing echoed in the empty bowl. Derek Rae rose with it. "Manuel Neuer rescues Bayern again! Demirbay caught that flush."
Robson joined in with equal excitent. "There’s a reason why Neuer is among the conversation of the greatest keepers in the world. The ho side is doing everything right as they continue to ask the right question, but when you have a Manuel Neuer guarding your goal, you have three lives."
Demirbay jogged across for the corner, wiping sweat with the underside of his sleeve. He opted for a pacy cross to the near post, where Bender attacked it, managing to glance it with the side of his head. The ball flashed through a thicket of legs and might have fallen for Wirtz, but Javi Martínez stiffened his neck and headed clear.
Aránguiz recycled the loose ball and lofted it back to the penalty spot, where Tapsoba tried to bring it down with his chest. Kimich was there, though, and nicked it on the bounce, allowing Bayern to escape the siege with two simple passes. Kimmich to Gnabry, Gnabry laid it back to Davies, who overlapped, sprinting the ball into the safety of the middle third.
[87]
The match grew frantic as the final minutes neared, with both sides constantly attacking each other. In one instant, Rakim received a cross-field pass from Bailey after the Jamaican escaped the pressure of Kimich and Perisic. He chested the ball down a couple of yards past the halfway line, bringing it under control before Davis could close him down.
Not letting the Canadian settle, he feinted forward but laid the ball off to Wirtz, who sped forward in the middle channel. The midfielder held onto it, drifting further inward with a quick set of footwork that saw him glide past two defenders. Before Kimmich could get close, he released the ball towards the steady feet of Vollland, who held off Hernandez.
The striker flicked it wide, sending the ball skimming along the ground into the run of Diaby, who blew past Pavard. The Frenchman latched onto the ball, cutting into the side of the box at pace. His eyes locked onto the far post, and with Pavard stumbling behind him, the winger powered a left-footed strike across the face of the goal.
The shot scread low and hard toward the bottom far corner. Neuer, who had been guarding the area at the near post, was caught montarily wrong-footed. Lady Luck smiled upon him, though, as the loud clang of the post resounded a second later, sending the ball flying towards the other side of the box.
It was a mont of agony for Leverkusen as Diaby fell to his knees in disbelief. Rakim, who had been running in from the other side of the box, stretched his leg out trying to grasp the ball. Davis was quicker, managing to deflect the ball, sending it spilling out of the box into the path of Demirbay and Martínez.
The Spaniard tried to force the German out of the way, but Demirbay stayed steadfast, shielding the incoming ball. He braced himself as Martínez leaned in with full weight, trying to muscle him off the ball. The challenge was clumsy, arms entangled, boots scraping against each other’s ankles.
Demirbay managed to pivot, shielding the ball with his back as Martínez lunged one step too far—clipping Demirbay’s standing foot just as he tried to push the ball forward. The whistle shrieked imdiately as the German midfielder ca crashing to the ground. The referee stord over, his hand already moving to his pocket. Martínez threw up both arms, protesting vehently, but the yellow card was brandished all the sa.
"A reckless one," Derek Rae stated. "Martínez just lost his head there—right in front of the referee, no question about it."
"Demirbay did brilliantly to hold him off, and now Leverkusen have yet another dead-ball opportunity." Robson’s tone was graver. "This could very well be their very last chance to level this ga in these dying minutes."
The ball was placed just outside the D, to the right of centre—pri territory for a direct kick. This ti, Rakim stood over it again with Demirbay, but the look in the teenager’s eyes said it all. He wanted this one, and from the looks of it, he might have won the argunt between the two.
The four-man wall took its ti to assemble because the Munich side wasn’t interested in letting them take it quickly. A lot of shoving and pulling in the box occurred between players, causing a few interruptions where the referee had to intervene. After a few stern warnings and even two yellow cards, the situation finally cald down as the referee had had enough.
[90 1]
Monts later, Rakim stood a couple of strides behind the ball, feet planted, eyes fixed on Neuer beyond the wall. The Bayern captain had been barking orders, organising the wall, signalling exactly where he wanted his defenders to shift. But that soon ceased as he was satisfied with his walls set up, as he now stood centrally closer to the near post.
Demirbay jogged a couple of steps away from the wall, standing perpendicular to it along the flanks, drawing Kimich to follow him. Rakim, behind the ball, took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he waited for the go signal. (Fweeet) A second later, the referee brought the whistle to his lips, causing a shrill whistle to resound, deepening the silence.
"It is the mont of truth. Can he convert this opportunity?" Raes’ voice resounded as they watched Rakim size up the wall. "We know he can take it with boot feet, and he certainly has options within the box."
"The burden is heavy on this young man’s shoulders, but we have seen him do much harder things." Robson chimd in as Rakim began his run-up, side-stepping to his right as he took a curved approach. "And he was always going to go for it, was there ever any doubt?"
The sound of Rakim’s boots against the turf was rhythmic as he sped up towards the ball. A step away from the ball, his right foot planted a few inches from it as he angled his body. He twisted his wrist with a pace that would put a tango dancer to sha, generating quite a bit of torque as his left foot whipped around.
(boom) A resounding boom resounded as his green boot connected cleanly with the ball, wrapping it around the jumping wall by re inches. The power and curl behind the strike was so violent that the players barely blinked, and the ball was at the top, far left corner. Ti didn’t even slow for a mont, as Neuer remained glued to his spot as the shrill sound of the ball hitting the crossbar resounded.
For a heartbeat, no one moved as the woodwork humd violently, as the spinning ball harmlessly bounced off the ball cather behind the goal. The cara zood in on the ball behind the goal, capturing the mont a half-torn ball was left after the air rapidly escaped its shell. The silence that followed was deafening—then ca the gasps, the disbelief from the benches, and the anguished shout from Rakim himself.
Neuer, frozen for a full second, only reacted after the bar had rung—his eyes wide, hands still in the air. Derek Rae’s voice dropped into disbelief: "He caught it perfectly... perfectly... but the crossbar denies him glory!"
Robson exhaled through clenched teeth. "You will not strike a free-kick cleaner than that. Neuer had no chance—that’s an inch from immortality, Derek and I feel for the kid."
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To Be Continued...
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