God Of football

Chapter 199: Closure

As Izan glanced at the Mallorca goal, a barrage of information hit him causing him to wince slightly.

Ruben Baraja who had been watching Izan caught the expression and thought Izan might be injured so he even called Assistant Coach Moreno to prepare a substitute.

”Who’s coming off?” Moreno asked in confusion after Baraja pointed to Izan but before they could continue, the crowd roared.

Baraja and Moreno halted their conversation and turned their heads toward the source of the crowd’s frantic state only to find Izan running toward Marmadashvili.

”What is he doing” Baraja uttered as Izan ran toward Marmadashvilli.

The game had reached a tense crescendo, the kind of moment that demanded calm heads and quick thinking.

The scoreboard remained 2-1 in Mallorca’s favor and they were trying to keep it that way, and every player on the pitch knew that a single moment of brilliance could tip the balance.

Izan, standing just outside the center circle, glanced around the field with a sharp, calculating look.

His markers had stuck to him like glue all evening, wary of the young star’s ability to carve open defenses with a flick or a burst of pace.

But then, without warning, Izan turned on his heel and began sprinting full tilt—toward his own goal.

The shift in momentum was so sudden and unexpected that the stadium fell into a momentary hush.

Fans blinked, puzzled, as Izan tore through the midfield, his long strides carrying him past surprised teammates who barely had time to react.

Giorgio Marmadashvilli, the towering goalkeeper, stood near the edge of his penalty box with the ball in hand, his towering frame calm and composed as always.

”What is Izan doing?” a fan near the touchline shouted, voicing the question on everyone’s mind. The commentators, equally baffled, tried to make sense of the play.

”This is highly unusual from Izan. He’s running back… toward his own goalkeeper? What could he be thinking?”

Izan’s markers, caught off guard by the sudden change in direction, hesitated for a brief moment.

Then, unsure of whether to maintain their shape or stay close to him, they chose to follow, darting after him in a tight cluster.

Their eyes flicked nervously between Izan and Marmadashvilli, trying to anticipate what might happen next.

The retreating motion disrupted their defensive line, dragging midfielders and even one of the center-backs out of position.

By now, the murmur of confusion had grown louder around the stadium. Some fans stood, craning their necks to get a better view of the bizarre scene unfolding.

Izan, undeterred by the chaos he was causing, kept running until he was just a few yards from Marmadashvilli.

The goalkeeper, seemingly unfazed, held the ball aloft for a moment, his sharp eyes scanning the field.

Then, just as his markers closed in on him, Izan made his move. He gestured for Marmadashvilli to release the ball, and the goalkeeper obliged with a quick, sharp throw directly to Izan’s feet.

The moment the ball touched his boots, Izan pivoted sharply and sent a no-look pass hurtling across the field toward the left wing, where an unmarked teammate stood in acres of space.

[A few moments earlier]

”Is this what you want me to do?” Diego Lopez said as he fixed his socks. Izan who stood beside him wipes the sweat around his mouth before nodding.

Diego Lopez, a bit skeptical decided to do it anyway.

...…..

The crowd erupted in a mixture of applause and astonished cheers.

Izan’s audacious maneuver had completely dismantled the opposition’s defensive structure.

By drawing his markers deep into his own half, he had created a vacuum of space in the midfield, leaving his teammates free to exploit the opening.

”That was pure genius!” one of the commentators exclaimed. ”Izan’s awareness is just incredible.

He baited his markers, lured them out of position, and opened up the entire field with one move.”

As the ball was carried upfield by teammate, Diego Lopez, Izan turned and began sprinting back into the attacking third, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

Marmadashvilli watched him go, his expression as calm and stoic as ever, but there was the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

The crowd, now fully alive with energy, roared Izan’s name as he rejoined the attack, his every move a reminder that he wasn’t just playing the game—he was controlling the game.

” Diego Lopez now has the ball. Is this Valencia’s chance to equalize? He’s all Alo- Oh wait, Izan has entered the fray”

As the commentator rambled on, Izan burst past the Mallorca players

The stadium buzzed with energy as Diego López ran towards the opponent’s goal, the ball at his feet. He lifted his head, scanning the field.

Izan, now sandwiched between two defenders, looked the more appealing option since he was the only option.

López hesitated for a fraction of a second, weighing his options, before deciding to take the risk.

With a firm strike, he sent a low, driven pass skimming across the grass toward Izan.

The ball seemed to hang in the air for just a moment too long.

The defenders saw their chance and began to close in, anticipating they could intercept it before Izan could react. But then Izan exploded into action.

In a flash, he turned and accelerated, his blistering pace immediately setting him apart from his pursuers.

The defenders, caught off guard by his sudden burst of speed, scrambled to keep up, their legs pumping furiously but to no avail.

Izan reached the ball first, his touch effortless as he turned it forward without breaking strides.

The distance between him and his markers grew with every step, the sound of his boots pounding the turf echoing in the stunned silence of the chasing defenders.

”That’s just unreal!” one commentator exclaimed. ”Izan didn’t just beat them to the ball—he’s left them for dead!”

The crowd’s murmurs turned to roars as Izan surged into the attacking third, his pace leaving everyone in awe.

Behind him, Hugo Duro was already making his run, sprinting toward the edge of the box.

Izan, closing in with frightening speed, narrowed the gap to the goal, drawing cheers from the stands with every stride.

The entire stadium held its breath as Izan bore down on goal, one-on-one with Rajković.

The goalkeeper crouched low, bracing himself for the inevitable. Every fan, commentator, and player expected Izan to fire the ball into the back of the net and claim the glory for himself.

But then came the twist. At the last possible moment, Izan slowed his pace slightly, lifting his head to scan his surroundings.

The crowd watched on hopefully praying for Izan to fire away but Instead of taking the shot, he slid the ball across the goal with a delicate touch, threading it past the outstretched arms of Rajković and into the path of Hugo Duro.

The home crowd watched as Hugo Duro, perfectly positioned and unmarked thanks to Izan’s decision, tapped the ball into the empty net with ease.

The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, the realization of Izan’s genius hitting them all at once.

Ruben Baraja on the bench pumped his fist in the air, ensuing assistant Coach Moreno in a hug while the players on the bench joined in.

”What an assist!” the commentator roared. ”Izan could’ve taken that himself, but instead, he’s just handed Hugo Duro the easiest goal of his life. That’s vision, selflessness, and pure footballing brilliance!”

[Izan: I’m not selfless, the author decided to stop me from scoring since he can’t keep count]

Izan turned with a wide grin, raising his arms to the fans as they chanted his name.

Hugo ran to embrace him, pointing back to Izan as if to say, This is all you. Their teammates soon joined, mobbing the duo in celebration.

Meanwhile, the defenders stood frozen, heads in their hands, replaying the sequence in disbelief.

They had been outpaced, outthought, and outclassed by a player who was operating on an entirely different level.

The Valencia fans celebrated their draw and why wouldn’t they? They were on the verge of losing but they had been able to salvage a point and that was something to be happy for.

The Mallorca fans on the other hand were dissatisfied about their team throwing away a 2-goal lead but not too much since they knew their players had done their best.

They had simply failed to stop one boy and that boy alone had caused their situation.

After the restart, Valencia tried to attack one last time but couldn’t after the referee’s whistle sounded.

” It’s all level, here at the Mestalla. Both teams will have to look forward to the second leg in Mallorca’s home ground.

It was 2-0 for Mallorca in the 82nd minute but after 8 minutes and an additional 5, Valencia have been able to level the scores, courtesy of one man, Izan Hernandez.

I’m really looking forward to what this young man can accomplish in football. Well, that’s all for today.

As always I’m Gabriel Solano together with Jhaime Verona, have a good night folks.”