God Of football

Chapter 293: Halftime

The German defender had thrown himself in the way, deflecting Izan’s effort wide.

Spain, undeterred, rushed to take the corner.

The ball was whipped in, curling menacingly toward the near post-—

Rodri jumped—

Header—

Blocked!

Another scramble, bodies crashing together in the box—

It fell to Nico Williams!

A half-volley—

Deflected!

The ball ricocheted out of the box, but Spain refused to let it go.

Izan, stationed outside the area, controlled the loose ball on his chest.

One last moment.

One last attack.

He took a breath—

And struck it.

Low.

Tyler: ”AND Izan—”

The ball screamed off his left boot, slicing through the air like a missile. Neuer, already diving, stretched desperately—

But the shot was faster.

A sharp, resounding clang! Echoed through the stadium as the ball crashed off the inside of the post.

The entire crowd gasped.

For a split second, time seemed to pause.

Then—

The ball bounced back into play, rolling toward the penalty spot.

Kroos reacted first. The German veteran rushed in and booted it clear, sending the ball soaring into the night sky.

Fàbregas: ”So close! Inches away! Izan nearly gave Spain the lead right before halftime!”

On the touchline, Julian Nagelsmann exhaled sharply, his shoulders dropping in relief.

He clapped his hands together and shouted toward his team.

Luis de la Fuente, on the other hand, clenched his jaw and turned to his assistant. ”That would have been perfect to kill their momentum..” he muttered, shaking his head.

Spain recycled possession again, but this time, Germany didn’t allow any gaps. The intensity in the final minutes was feverish—Spain knocking, Germany holding firm.

Then—

The referee glanced at his watch and put the whistle to his lips.

Fweee, Fweeeeew

Halftime.

Tyler: ”What a first half! End-to-end, high-quality football at its absolute best! Spain and Germany go into the break level at 1-1, but both teams have had their chances!”

Fàbregas: ”That was relentless. Spain responded brilliantly after conceding, and Izan nearly put them ahead in the dying seconds.

But Germany are just as dangerous when they go forward. The second half is going to be massive.”

On the pitch, players stretched their arms, some wiping sweat from their brows, others shaking their heads in frustration.

Izan glanced at the goalpost, exhaling through his mouth before jogging toward the tunnel alongside his teammates.

Germany’s players did the same, some exchanging nods with their Spanish counterparts.

Nagelsmann clapped Havertz on the back as they walked off, while De la Fuente pulled Rodri aside for a quick word before heading in himself.

The Stuttgart Arena buzzed with excitement, fans discussing what they’d just witnessed.

One thing was certain—

There was still everything to play for.

...….

The broadcast returned to the BBC studio, where, Cesc Fàbregas and now Bastian Schweinsteiger, Xabi Alonso, as well as Jürgen Klinsmann sat around the analysis desk.

The first-half highlights played behind them as they prepared to break it all down.

”What a fantastic first half—two top teams going at it, no fear, no holding back. Let’s start with Germany’s goal. Bastian, walk us through it.” Elena Boa, the host said, looking at the football greats in front of her.

The screen showed the sequence leading up to the goal—Musiala playing a quick one-two with Kimmich before slipping the ball wide to Raum.

Bastian Schweinsteiger:

”This is classic Germany. It’s about efficiency and precision. Look at Musiala—he takes out two Spanish players with one pass.

Raum delivers an excellent cross, and Havertz does what great strikers do—gets between defenders and finishes with perfect timing.”

Xabi Alonso:

”From Spain’s perspective, though, they could have done better. Le Normand and Laporte hesitate for just a second, and that’s all Havertz needs.

Against Germany, you cannot afford to be reactive—you must anticipate.”

The footage switched to Spain’s instant response, showing Izan’s flick setting up Olmo’s goal.

Cesc Fàbregas:

”And then to that. This is what makes Spain so dangerous. Izan—look at this—he’s surrounded, but his first touch is perfect, and the flick is pure class.

It takes four German players out of the equation. Olmo does the rest. That’s what Spain needed—an immediate reaction.”

Jürgen Klinsmann:

”It’s a wonderful response. Spain are fearless when they have the ball. But what impresses me most is how quickly they turned Germany’s press against them.

One mistake, one moment of brilliance, and they’re in.”

The screen switched to Izan’s shot that struck the post, with the ball inches from giving Spain the lead.

Schweinsteiger:

”In my opinion, Germany got lucky here. Neuer was beaten. Izan makes his own space and hits it so cleanly—nine out of ten times, that’s a goal.”

Alonso:

”It’s coming. He’s feeling the game now. If Germany don’t adjust, Izan will punish them.”

Lineker:

”So, what needs to change in the second half?”

Klinsmann:

”Germany must be braver in midfield. Right now, Spain’s quick passing is forcing them deeper. They need to push higher, press harder.”

Fàbregas:

”For my nation Spain, they need to be careful with Germany’s counters. They’ve controlled the ball well, but one mistake and Germany will hurt them.

But if Izan and Lamine Yamal keep growing into the game, I fancy Spain to win this.”

The broadcast faded into a commercial break, but inside the dressing rooms, the battle was still raging.

.......

Luis de la Fuente stood at the center of the room, his voice measured but firm.

His players sat around him, catching their breath, some sipping water, others staring at the floor in thought.

Izan sat near Pedri, stretching out his legs, sweat glistening on his forehead.

”Good first half, but we can be better. We reacted well to their goal, but we let them get too

comfortable before that.

We have to control the tempo. Germany want us to rush our passes, to lose our shape—that’s what led to their goal.”

He turned to the midfield trio.

”Rodri, keep dictating. Olmo, I need you closer to Izan in the final third. Pedri—keep finding the spaces. You’re this close to breaking them.”

After that, he pointed at Lamine Yamal and Nico Williams.

”We need more from the wings. Raum and Kimmich are pushing up, which means space behind them.

Exploit it. Izan, you’re dropping deep and pulling them apart—that’s good. But if you get the chance, be ruthless.”

Izan nodded, focused. He felt the momentum shifting in his favor. He had beaten Rüdiger a few times already—one clean shot, and it would be his moment.

”Now, listen—Germany will come at us harder. If we play into their tempo, we lose. But if we dictate, if we stay composed, we win.”

The players nodded, murmuring in agreement. Rodri clapped his hands together, rallying the group.

......

In the other dressing room, Julian Nagelsmann paced in front of the whiteboard, his expression intense.

”We started well, but we let them grow into the game. That cannot happen.

They punished us for one mistake, and they nearly scored again before the break. We need to be sharper!”

He pointed at Kimmich and Kroos.

”Midfield—we decide the tempo, not them. Kroos, be quicker with the transitions. Kimmich, don’t let Izan turn. Every time he gets on the ball, we’re in trouble.”

Kimmich nodded, jaw clenched at Naglesmann’s words knowing that the latter was right.

Nagelsmann then turned to Rüdiger.

”Izan is playing between the lines. If he drops deep, someone steps up. Don’t let him face forward—force him backward.”

Then he pointed at Musiala and Wirtz.

”We need more from you two. If Spain want to push up, fine—make them pay for it. Be direct, take risks, and test Unai Simón.”

His voice lowered slightly as he walked forward.

”This is knockout football. We play at our tempo, our way. We’ve seen what Spain can do—now let’s show them what we can do.”

The German players let out a collective ”Jawohl!” before standing up, shaking off the first half’s frustrations.

.......

The tunnel doors swung open, and the Stuttgart Arena exploded with noise. Fans roared as Spain and Germany emerged, the air thick with anticipation.

Izan jogged out, his gaze locked ahead, jaw set in quiet determination. Beside him, Pedri adjusted his shin pads, while Rodri exchanged a firm handshake with Kimmich before taking his position.

Across the pitch, Havertz clapped his hands, rallying his teammates. Nagelsmann’s voice rang out from the touchline, urging Germany forward.

Martin Tyler:

”And here they are! The second half of this titanic battle is about to begin. Spain and Germany—two European giants—locked at 1-1, with everything still on the line.”

Cesc Fàbregas:

”Spain responded brilliantly after going behind. Now, it’s about control. Keep dictating the tempo, and chances will come.”

Jürgen Klinsmann:

”But Germany won’t sit back. Expect them to push higher, to test Spain’s defense. The first ten minutes here could decide everything.”

The camera panned to Luis de la Fuente, arms folded, eyes scanning his players. On the other side, Nagelsmann barked final instructions, his intensity unmistakable.

The referee glanced at his watch.

Fweeeee!

This was it!