The Liverpool supporters in the Anfield stands instinctively opened their mouths wide, their faces full of disbelief.
What had they just seen?
Jas Cook's perfectly weighted half-high cross, Ibrahimović charging forward between the two centre-backs, raising his foot and producing a stunning volley that nearly made people's eyes pop out!
Even the flat arc the ball traced through the air was breathtaking!
The Reds supporters were stunned. In the away section, more than three thousand Swansea fans erupted into wild cheers.
They waved flags bearing Swansea's crest while pumping their fists and shouting at the top of their lungs.
It was as if they were demonstrating toward the Liverpool supporters. Of course, this demonstration was not provocation, but a silent declaration:
Stunned, aren't you?
Don't look down on us just because Swansea are a Division Three team. Our players can still shock the world on the pitch!
After scoring, Ibrahimović ran a couple of steps toward the corner flag, only to realize he was heading toward the ho supporters' section. So he stopped, stood where he was, slightly raised both arms, and wore an expression of supre arrogance.
He looked around, as though he were a king surveying the world.
What entered his eyes were the shocked, open-mouthed faces of Liverpool supporters, and the disbelieving gazes of the Liverpool players as they stared at him.
Ibrahimović enjoyed this feeling far too much.
A grand stadium.
Countless supporters.
The spotlight focused on him.
Under the gaze of thousands, it was as though he himself had beco God!
"What on earth happened? What happened?
"Swansea have scored!
"Ibrahimović has produced an earth-shattering world-class goal!
"The difficulty of this shot was enormous!
"Jas Cook's cross curled behind Henchoz. Once Henchoz turned, he was already too late. He had no way to intercept or interfere with the ball. And what was Hyypiä thinking? Was he thinking about what he had for dinner?
"Ibrahimović rushed forward and unleashed a thunderous volley!
"The ball drew a dazzling arc through the air and flew into the top-right corner of Liverpool's goal!
"Unbelievable. An unbelievable goal!
"That volley was the work of a top-class star!"
After Lynn saw the ball go in, his own face also showed disbelief. Then he laughed. But after laughing twice, he imdiately returned to calm.
That kid Ibrahimović could be said to bring surprises constantly.
And he had one "bad habit": he always loved chasing high difficulty!
If he could strengthen areas like heading, the kind of ability a tall center-forward should possess, he would practically be the perfect striker. Unfortunately, he had never been interested in headers. Instead, he was obsessed with delicate technical ability that did not match his height at all.
The difficulty of this goal was obvious. Even Liverpool's star striker Owen might not have been able to score it.
But Ibrahimović had scored.
Still, this was not normal!
Lynn naturally understood that with a clear head.
So he had to stay calm, and he had to make sure Swansea's players stayed calm too.
Do not get carried away.
Liverpool had not truly exerted themselves yet!
Lynn appeared calm and restrained.
Unexpectedly, however, after seeing his team concede, Gérard Houllier shot out from the dugout and rushed to the touchline, emotionally roaring at his Liverpool players.
"Are you still asleep? Or are you planning to lie down on the pitch and sleep? It's still too early for bedti! Wake yourselves up! Are we going to be bullied by a group of kids in our own ho?"
Houllier's anger was not an overreaction.
After the match began, Liverpool's attitude had been far too arrogant.
They thought they could take down Swansea easily, only to discover that this bone was not so easy to chew. Before they could adjust, Swansea had struck them first!
Houllier's eyes were sharp. He naturally saw that the direction of the match had beco sowhat wrong. If he rely reminded his players lightly, they probably would not take it seriously.
So he rushed to the touchline and scolded the entire team!
Now Liverpool's players were truly angry!
Just as Houllier had warned them, if they were bullied by a group of kids at Anfield, the Reds would lose all face!
For that goal just now, the three key players in Swansea's attack were Cromwell and Jas Cook, both only seventeen, while Ibrahimović had only just turned nineteen!
After scolding his players, Houllier turned back toward the dugout with a dark expression.
After sitting down again, he suddenly rubbed the area around his heart and imdiately said to his assistant, "Get my dicine!"
The assistant was startled. While fetching the dicine, he asked with concern, "How do you feel? Do you need to go to the hospital?"
Houllier's heart was not in good condition. He always kept dicine nearby in case he needed it to "save his life."
He took the dicine and threw it straight into his mouth. Without saying another word, his eyes returned to the pitch.
When Swansea's players finished celebrating and walked back toward their own half, Lynn made a pressing-down motion with both hands, signaling for them to calm down.
Swansea's players were in high spirits.
Taking the lead over Liverpool at Anfield felt absolutely incredible!
But when they reorganized their formation and prepared for kick-off, they saw the Reds across the Liverpool half radiating overwhelming killing intent!
Lynn's expression turned grave.
The pressure in his heart seed to grow even heavier!
Because the team had scored.
They were leading!
Fear of losing the lead, worry that they would eventually be overturned — this anxious, gains-and-losses ntality made him even more nervous, and the pressure surged.
Even an ordinary football fan should understand a common phenonon in matches.
When a weaker team unexpectedly scores first against a strong team, what happens next is often still not optimistic.
The weaker side must be prepared for one of two outcos:
Either they create an upset at Anfield and defeat the powerful Reds of Liverpool,
Or they prepare to face a slaughter!
Because Swansea's goal had completely enraged Liverpool!
After the restart, the Reds indeed strengthened their attack. Not only did the speed of their passing and circulation increase, their physical confrontations beca almost unreasonable, crushing Swansea head-on!
In the 32nd minute, Pedretti was knocked aside by McAllister in a challenge. Refusing to give up, he slid in to tackle. McAllister had already passed the ball away, and Pedretti brought him down afterward.
The referee showed Pedretti a yellow card.
Riise blasted the resulting free kick just beyond the byline. The ball skimd wide of the goal, leaving Swansea's players sweating cold.
Whether the ball flew into the net or struck one of them in the body, they all felt as though they had just survived a disaster.
Three minutes later, Swansea launched another attack. Jas Cook switched the ball wide to the left, where Grosso and Cromwell attempted a one-two.
Cromwell's movent was agile, and he got ahead of Hamann to play a diagonal pass toward the byline.
Unfortunately, Carragher had been blocking Grosso's forward-running lane the entire ti, preventing him from building up speed. Grosso could only watch as the ball rolled out over the touchline, then retreat sowhat dejectedly.
Liverpool's attack gradually opened up.
In the 38th minute, Berger drew Gabbidon's defensive attention on the left side of the front line. While Gabbidon approached but did not rashly commit to a tackle, Berger suddenly threaded a diagonal pass toward the byline.
Gabbidon turned his head and saw Riise overlapping forward to join the attack. Although Jas Cook tracked back, the distance between them had already opened up.
Riise stopped the ball before the byline and directly delivered a cross.
The ball dropped into the goalmouth, and Heskey reached it first. He headed directly at goal. Glendower, reacting in a rush, actually managed to block it!
The whole stadium gasped!
Even Lynn was extrely surprised. He had thought that goal was certain to go in.
"Swansea survive a huge scare! Whether through luck or brilliance, Glendower sohow blocks Heskey's certain goal!"
Houllier leaned back angrily in the dugout, muttering sothing under his breath.
Heskey, a new signing who had only arrived in the sumr, possessed a tall and powerful fra, enough to threaten the defensive lines of every team in England!
Swansea's quick attacks now seed unable to produce results, because Liverpool's defensive line was no longer underestimating them.
In the 42nd minute, Cromwell sent a lofted through ball from midfield toward the space behind Liverpool's defensive line. Ibrahimović had just started his run when Hyypiä physically interfered with him and slowed him down.
Henchoz chased back and controlled the ball. Once the situation had stabilized, Hyypiä left Ibrahimović's side. Henchoz then passed the ball back to goalkeeper Westerveld, and Liverpool regained possession.
At this mont, Lynn gestured for his players to focus on dropping back.
He wanted the team to at least hold the score until half-ti!
Liverpool patiently organized their attack in midfield. Nearly a minute passed before they launched their next assault.
This ti, right midfielder Gerrard cut into the middle, received McAllister's pass, and fired from distance!
Gerrard's shot struck defender Friedrich and rebounded out.
Gerrard raised both arms toward the referee and shouted, "Handball!"
Yes, the ball had struck Friedrich's arm.
But it looked as though Friedrich had turned his body sideways to block the shot, and the ball had hit his arm during that motion. His arm had not been raised to make his body unnaturally bigger.
So the referee completely ignored Gerrard's appeal.
The loose ball was directly passed forward by Poulsen.
Cromwell had just started moving forward, preparing to control it, but after turning, he was stunned to see Hamann sliding in fiercely!
Cromwell stretched out his foot, trying to poke the ball away first. But before his foot could co down, Hamann had already used a sliding tackle to kick the ball forward!
Cromwell dodged in ti and rolled directly onto the ground. This was an instinctive movent to protect himself. After rolling once, he imdiately raised his head and looked toward his own penalty area.
He knew very well that the defensive line was now in danger.
Because Liverpool had suddenly launched a second-phase attack!
In that mont, Cromwell, kneeling on the ground, saw an incomparably dazzling back in his line of sight.
England's Wonder Boy.
Liverpool's golden boy.
Michael Owen!
The ball Hamann had tackled forward rolled between Poulsen and Pedretti.
Brunel was about to step forward and clear it long, but a figure as quick as a hare darted in front of him and carried the ball away!
It was England's lightning-fast golden boy, Michael Owen!
Brunel's attempted clearance missed. And that was not even the worst part.
After Owen carried the ball sideways, he imdiately cut it into the penalty area!
Friedrich's reaction was already worthy of praise. When Brunel stepped forward, he had taken the initiative to retreat and beco the covering centre-back.
But now Owen had entered the box. Just as Friedrich judged the timing and prepared to step forward, Owen nudged the ball sideways, opened up space, adjusted his stride, and shot directly with his right foot!
By the ti Friedrich lifted his leg to block, it was too late!
The ball flashed past him at high speed, like a teor cutting through the air. He turned toward the goal and saw Glendower's tall body diving left, but it was still too late!
Even at full stretch, Glendower's fingertips failed to touch the ball.
There was nothing he could do.
The ball struck the inside netting!
Liverpool had equalized before half-ti!
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