God Of football

Chapter 919: If Anyone.

The match flickered into life the moment the referee’s hand dropped.

Yokohama came out with a burst of energy that caught Arsenal a little flat, snapping into quick combinations through midfield and pushing the tempo in a way that made the home supporters rise in anticipation.

One of their midfield anchors clipped a first-time pass between Rice and Myles Lewis-Skelly, sending Asahi Uenaka darting into the right channel.

Saliba reacted quickly and forced him wide, and Uenaka tried to squeeze a low cross into the box.

Saliba still showed up, read it well and cleared into touch, but the early pressure stirred the crowd.

”Good start from Yokohama,” one commentator said as the fans clapped the effort.

The resulting throw was swooped up by Rice after Yokohama tossed it back into play, with the former turning and smashing it sharply across the pitch to Timber as Zubimendi dropped deep to collect from him, drawing Yokohama’s press before slipping the ball through a tight gap into Odegaard, who turned sharply and released Martinelli down the left.

Martinelli drove at his man, chopped inside, and curled a shot toward the far corner, but Park Il-Kyu stretched and helped it over the bar.

The corner came in short, with Odegaard and Izan working a neat give-and-go before Izan floated a diagonal ball toward Saka.

Saka tried to bring it down, but his marker nudged him just enough to disrupt the touch.

And the loose ball rolled back to the hosts, who tried to break again through their captain, Takuya Kida.

He cut inside Zubimendi and threaded a pass toward Shuu Takeda, who had started to drift between the lines.

Shuu let the ball run across his body and attempted a quick shot, but it fizzed well wide.

The crowd applauded the idea anyway.

”Still causing problems,” the commentary noted. ”He’s clever with these pockets he keeps finding.”

Arsenal settled again as they forced Yokohama back with calm circulation, switching play from flank to flank until Saka found half a yard near the top of the box.

He slid a disguised pass to Izan, who managed a tight turn and released a shot that skimmed past the far post as gasps rolled around the stands.

The rhythm of the match kept bouncing between Yokohama’s quick bursts and Arsenal’s more composed waves.

Another long spell of possession from Arsenal ended when Rice stepped forward and pinged a pass into space for Timber, who overlapped and drilled a low ball across the face.

Martinelli lunged but was an inch late as Quinones pounced on it.

And then after this, Yokohama answered with their cleanest move yet.

Their left back surged forward, traded a one-touch sequence with Shuu, and slipped a pass into the box.

Uenaka almost latched onto it before Saliba cut across and made a perfect sliding intervention, as the crowd roared its approval for the move.

Saka, who had seen the loose ball latched onto it, intending to burst forward, but he was immediately swarmed by three Yokohama players, with the home team winning the ball as fast as they lost it, pushing further up the pitch after this.

And then they finally found their opening.

Shuu received a pass in the middle, weaved between Rice and Zubimendi, the crowd rising with him, but before he could do anything further, Rice clipped him, sending him to the ground as the referee immediately blew for a foul.

”A halt to the back and forth between these two sides. Feels more like a basketball game than football with all these attacking displays,” the commentary came through as the Yokohama fans rose to their feet.

It was twenty-two yards out, just left of centre.

The perfect range for either a right-footer or a left-footer.

”That’s dangerous,” the commentator said. ”But I am more concerned for Yokohama should Arsenal escape from this and decide to break.”

”Stay back a bit,” Hideo Oshima said from the touchline after he saw captain Tayuka Kida venturing up further.

Arsenal, on the other hand, set their wall quickly.

Rice, Saliba, Gabriel, and Timber lined up while Raya adjusted the angle behind them.

The referee paced out the distance, then turned to check on the jostling.

Behind the ball stood Uenaka and Shuu, both staring at the wall, both expressionless, with their thoughts to themselves.

The referee blew his whistle, and then Shuu shifted first.

His step made Arsenal brace.

But Uenaka peeled off toward the ball, prompting a split-second scramble in the wall.

They adjusted, assuming he would take it, and even Shuu himself was caught off guard.

But then Uenaka jabbed at the ball with the inside of his boot, rolling it gently to the side as the Arsenal wall jumped.

And then Shuu reacted quickly, arriving to the ball at full speed.

He leaned over the ball and hammered it straight into the turf, the crowd behind the goal rising to their feet as the ball skidded like it was glued to the grass, ripping beneath the jumping wall and arrowing into the bottom corner before Raya could reach down as the net snapped back behind him.

GOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLL

The stadium detonated with noise as Shuu was swallowed by teammates, arms wrapped around him, fists slapping his back.

”Life, in this, once again. Shuu with a goal that any player would be proud of. Clinical, efficient, and confident!” the commentary came as the former fought his way out of the huddle, jogged straight into the net, grabbed the ball, and sprinted back toward the halfway line.

”This doesn’t feel like preseason anymore,” the commentator said over the roar. ”This is turning into a real contest.”

On the big screen, the camera cut to Izan, standing at the centre spot with an impressed, almost amused expression.

His eyes followed Shuu as he placed the ball down for the restart, before walking towards the kickoff spot, waiting for the referee’s whistle.

”So it’s 3-1 for Arsenal,” the commentary came as Izan rolled the ball back, but before the commentator could pick up his earlier thought, Rice cut across the pitch with a sweeping diagonal toward the right flank.

”Hold on, forget that for a second,” the commentator snapped back in.

”Look at this from Rice. Arsenal and Saka are on the move again.”

Saka brought it down cleanly and drove straight at his man.

His first cross thudded off the defender’s thigh and kicked back into the space in front of him.

He tried to chase it, but the defender stepped across at the last second.

Saka didn’t slow, though, and the two of them knocked together hard.

The Yokohama player went down on Saka just before the edge of the box, a couple of strides to the right of the D.

And the whistle rang out immediately.

”Referee points to the foul,” the commentator said.

”Promising spot for Arsenal, that. And Saka looks like he took the worst of that collision.”

And even though it was a clear foul, the Yokohama players still tried to dispute it.

Izan jogged over to the scene, leaned down and offered Saka his hand.

Saka took a breath and accepted it.

”You good?” Izan asked quietly.

”Yeah,” Saka said. ”He just stepped across late.”

Izan gave a short nod and steadied him while he got his balance back.

Saka shook out his shoulder once and walked toward the touchline as the referee ushered players away from the ball.

The stadium screens cut briefly to the fourth official, who had his board up.

”Nwaneri for Odegaard,” the commentators said as the Norwegian turned towards the bench with a sigh.

”And on the Yokohama side, Kota Watanabe for Suzuki,” the commentator finished.

”Martin Odegaard’s night is done. Nwaneri coming in, and for Yokohama, Kota Watanabe brings a bit more control in midfield as they try to settle things.”

Odegaard jogged off, tapping Nwaneri on the back as they crossed paths.

”Keep it moving,” he said, simple and soft.

Nwaneri nodded and went straight into position while Izan stayed by the ball, letting the noise swing back and forth around him.

The referee was still pushing players out of the arc and trying to stop two Yokohama defenders from nudging Gabriel away from their wall.

A couple of Arsenal shirts tried to walk into the gap, but the referee barked at them to hold their distance.

Izan dropped a hand to the ball and turned it slightly, checking the angle.

He exhaled and waited, calm in the middle of the fuss as the referee backed out of the box.

”We’ve already gotten a free-kick goal from Yokohama F Marinos, but if anyone in this world can put this ball in the back of the net, it has got to be Izan Hernandez!”