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[04/07/2020 | Ti: 21:45 PM | DFB-Pokal Final Leverkusen 1 : 2 Bayern| Location: Olympiastadion Berlin]
The cara panned across the Olympiastadion as the players huddled at their technical areas, bodies hunched, shirts drenched in sweat, physios spraying cold mist over cramped legs. Derek Rae’s voice ca in, heavy with the weight of the occasion.
"Well, Stewart, ninety minutes weren’t enough to separate them. Both teams have run themselves into the ground, and now it’s about who has the legs and the will to carry this through another thirty."
Robson didn’t hesitate. "That’s exactly it, Derek. This is where tired minds and tired legs make the difference. Flick will lean on his experience—Thiago, Coutinho, Lewandowski—they’ve been here before, they know what it takes. Bosz, on the other hand, has injected energy with Bailey and Bellarabi, and Rakim is still full of running. He’ll tell his side: keep believing, keep pushing."
The cara cut to Bosz crouched in front of his n, gesturing rapidly with his hands. He seed to want to raise his players’ morale forcefully and would drag them across the finish line if he had to. At the Bayern technical area, Flick paced calmly, arms folded, giving instructions to his playmakers. Trainers would go around checking on their players, giving massages and water when needed.
"This, Stewart," Derek continued, "is when you have to dig into reserves you didn’t even know you had. One mistake, one mont of brilliance—it turns you into a hero, and could decide the Pokal."
"You can feel it," Rae concluded. "They will want to decide it in one more half-hour to crown the winner in Berlin."
~~~
[91]
The referee’s whistle signalled the start of extra ti, and both teams trudged back into position with heavy legs but fiery eyes. Leverkusen got the ball rolling, Havertz imdiately dropping deep to dictate the tempo. "And here we go again," Derek Rae announced, his voice steady but brimming with tension. "Thirty minutes to decide the German Cup, or penalties if they can’t be separated."
Stewart Robson’s analysis was imdiate: "You can see the difference in body language already, Derek. Bayern’s veterans look composed but weary, while Leverkusen’s youngsters still have that hunger in their eyes."
The opening exchanges were cagey, both sides clearly feeling the effects of a gruelling ninety minutes. Passes that had been crisp earlier were now sloppy, or too rushed, touches that had been sure were now heavy. But the intensity never wavered as they fought for every inch with tackles flying left, right, and centre.
[94]
Bailey was causing havoc down Leverkusen’s left flank, his fresh legs allowing him to sprint past tired Bayern defenders like they were standing still. In the 94th minute, he collected a pass from Demirbay and imdiately set off, forcing Pavard into a foot race. The Jamaican managed to trick him into thinking he would go to the byline, allowing him to cut inside when the full back stepped back.
His move drew Boateng out of position, who looked to shut down the dead space, but the winger slid the ball past him before he could react. Volland had tid his run to perfection, staying onside by inches as he latched onto the through ball. With only Neuer to beat, Volland tried to wrap the ball past the keeper into the far corner.
But the Bayern captain wasn’t done yet. Diving full stretch to his left, Neuer managed to get a palm to the ball, deflecting it away from the goal. Alaba shielded the ball, bodying Havertz away before clearing the ball out of the box. "What a save from Neuer!" Derek Rae exclaid. "And what an opening statent from the Leverkusen side."
"You can tell how much they want this. Derck Bayern will have to earn it." Steward analysed before breaking down what led to the chance.
[98]
Despite starting strongly in extra ti, they were still facing Bayern, and their response to the pressure was swift and clinical. Coutinho, who had been relatively quiet, suddenly ca alive on the Bayern right wing. Collecting the ball in midfield, the Brazilian danced past two challenges with flair, showing why he was valued at 120 million euros.
He found an opening before Wendell could lock him down and sent a defence-splitting ball into the box. The pass to Lewandowski was inch-perfect, slipping past the outstretched leg of Tapsoba.
The Polish striker angled his run with Bender at his back, receiving the ball inside the box with feather-light grace. Taking the ball away from Bednar behind him, he opened up the angle with the outrushing Hradecky, unleashing a fierce drive toward the bottom corner.
Hradecky threw himself down low, getting a hand to the ball, but couldn’t keep it out. The net bulged, and Bayern’s bench erupted in celebration. "Lewandowski strikes again!" Stewart Robson shouted. "Just when you thought the well was dry, the Polish master finds another goal! And that, my friend, is why he’s one of the best strikers in the world - in the biggest monts, he delivers!"
[Bayern Munich 3-2 Bayer Leverkusen (Lewandowski 98’)]
[102]
From the restart, Leverkusen threw everything forward like a pack of starving wolves. Bayern struggled to settle into their familiar passing ga, as the ball carrier soon found themselves surrounded by black shirts. Forced to clear it long in the end, Leverkusen recovered possession from an aerial duel.
Rakim collected the ball from Baumgartlinger on the right wing just past the halfway line and imdiately cut inside. Beautiful chaos was the only word to describe what unfolded as the youngster went on a run. Two step overs and a shoulder dip, he got Thiago to bite, allowing him to glide past him.
Drifting back right, Goretzka and Davis stepped up to get in his way. He feinted a breakout to the touch line with a step over, but rely tapped the ball to his right into his stride to dodge Goretzka. Before Davis could intervene, he did the opposite with his right foot slipping in between them as he broke past. An arm tugged at his shirt, pulling him back, and he quickened, pulling the ball back before Alba could interfere.
His right had shot out, slapping the hand, tugging him away as he slid the ball to his left, poking through the open legs of Goretzka. Stumbling past his outstretched leg, he shoulder checked Davis, who had gone underneath Goretzka, allowing him to regain the ball. Watching Kimich get closer with a dangerous glint, he released the ball with the outside of his right boot.
The pass curved wickedly along the D like a crooked barber trying to do a line-up, spinning narrowly past Pavard, who had stopped to react to the oncoming ball. That proved to be a mistake as he couldn’t reach it, and Bailey, who was making a run in, slipped in behind, latching onto the through ball. Neuer is world-class, but the Jamaican wasn’t going to miss this, and he did not, as he calmly slotted the ball far and low, the German wall couldn’t reach.
"Oh my lord Steward, they have scored, and what did we just witness?" Derek Rae’s voice cracked with pure disbelief. "What a goal! What a run from Rakim Rex! He’s torn Bayern apart single-handedly!"
Stewart Robson was equally breathless. "Derek, we talked about one mont of brilliance before extra ti and oh boy did we get one. He made Goretzka, Davies, Alaba, and even Pavard look like schoolboys. The kid’s got ice in his veins!"
[Bayern Munich 3-3 Bayer Leverkusen (Bailey 102’)]
[107]
Bayern tried to respond imdiately, but Leverkusen were riding high and were unwilling to give them an inch. Thiago, normally so composed, misplaced a simple pass to Coutinho under the pressure of Baumgartlinger. Demirbay pounced on the loose ball and imdiately looked upfield.
His diagonal pass found Rakim in space down the right wing, with Davis a couple of yards from him. He didn’t do anything fancy as he saw the nearby players react aggressively the mont he got on the ball. Instead, he fought for a yard of space beyond Davis and whipped in a curling cross toward the penalty spot.
Volland exploded forward, leaping into the air between the centre-backs. The striker t the ball with the top of his head but was unable to guide it, sending it onto the back of Boateng’s head. It took an awkward deflection flying goalwards, forcing Neuer to backpedal frantically...
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To Be Continued...
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