Chapter 143: 143
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"Zachary, *clap*clap, Rosenborg, *clap*clap*, Zachary, *clap*clap..."
The fans around Kristin had long gone mad with euphoria. After Zachary scored that perfect free-kick from the tight angle, everyone around her had jumped up in joy and started clapping their hands while singing his name.
A storm of excitement had taken over the sections of the stands with Rosenborg fans, and it hadn't died down ever since the moment of the goal. Kristin, too, joined in on the cheering and celebrating as she felt like the golden age of Rosenborg had returned once again. She couldn't believe that the simple boy, who'd come to Europe only two years ago, could put up such a display within a week after making his debut for Rosenborg.
"Well then, that was some incredible stuff from Zachary Bemba," Kristin heard Kjell Roar, the commentator, yell out loud. He seemed to be trying to make himself heard over the loud singing and cheering that'd taken over Lerkendal Stadion.
"Okay, even I, as a commentator, I'm at a loss for words after having witnessed that free-kick," Kjell Roar continued. "Simple but effective from a tight angle and boom—the ball is in the back of the net, beyond the reach of Marcus Sahlman, the keeper. That was genius from the 18-year-old Rosenborg number-33. Harald! You've been smiling to yourself ever since Zachary scored that goal."
"Yes, of course," Harald Brattbakk chipped in. "I'm quite sure that anyone who enjoys football will smile or laugh when they get a chance to witness such a goal..."
"Let me correct you there," Kjell Roar interrupted him. "I'm sorry to say, but not everyone could smile and appreciate the goal the way you did. Take a look at the stands with the Tromsø fans and tell me if they are pleased after having witnessed the goal."
Harald laughed at that before continuing. "My bad, then. As I was saying, that goal was a result of a flawlessly executed effective curveball. I've to say that Zachary is one player with bottomless talent. His technique when taking the free-kick was the epitome of perfection. Textbook perfection, if I'm to say. I was amazed by his angled run-up to the ball and then his composure when making contact to unleash that curve beyond the wall and into the top right corner. What was better was that he went for the far post. Everything was textbook perfect, and he kept the keeper guessing until the very last moment."
"Zachary must have practiced this technique countless times on the training ground," the pundit continued. "For me, this signifies the making of a great player."
"Does his technique remind you of someone?" Kjell Roar inquired.
"Well, yes," Harald was quick to reply, his voice animated. "His set-piece technique has an uncanny resemblance to that of David Beckham. But I believe he has made the technique his own. You can see that from his accuracy. He can find the back of the net from any angle around the box. Last weekend, against Aalesunds, he netted one from the edge of the box in front of the arc. This time around, he has scored one from a tight angle close to the goal line. He's one hell of a dead-ball specialist."
"Thank you, Harald," Kjell Roar said. "Let's take you back to the live-action, where the game has just restarted after the goal. Coach Agnar Christensen has reacted quickly and brought on Adnan Causevic, another defender, to cover for the gap left by his captain after the red card. Team Tromsø are slowly passing the ball in their backfield..."
Kristin returned her attention to the playing field after calming down from all the excitement of celebrating Rosenborg's first goal. She continued following the match proceedings as the Tromsø players tried to hold on to the ball in their backfield.
But Tromsø's efforts to horde possession were fruitless. The Rosenborg players didn't let up the heat even after taking the lead. Instead, they increased their counter-pressing intensity. They ran at any of the opposing players with the ball like tireless madmen, never giving them even a second to relax with the ball. A while later, they managed to force the Tromsø players to play the ball high towards their center forward. The boys from the North could no longer take the pressure from Rosenborg in their backfield.
Kristin smiled, thinking that Rosenborg would soon regain possession and resume attacking once again. But to her dismay, Jonas Svensson, one of Rosenborg's defensive midfielders, mistimed the long ball when he tried to intercept it.
The color drained out of Kristin's face as she watched the ball bounce into Rosenborg's defensive third, beyond the reach of Tore Reginiussen, and towards Zdenek Ondrasek, the Tromsø center forward.
The tricky long ball had taken out the two holding midfielders and one center back from the equation, leaving Zdenek Ondrasek unmarked for a brief while. Rosenborg was in deep trouble for the first time since the match started.
Zdenek Ondrasek pounced on the ball like a cat that had detected some catnip and controlled it like the pro he was. Without any wavering, he spun around with the ball hooked to his left foot, skipping past Stefan Strandberg, one of Rosenborg's center backs, in the process. He then fed the ball forward and took off towards Rosenborg's box, leaving the Rosenborg defenders in the dust.
"Oh, my, what have we here," Kristin heard Kjell Roar yell, his voice turning dramatic. "A long ball has magically found its way to Zdenek Ondrasek, and he's bolting towards Rosenborg's box like a bullet train. Lund Hansen, the Rosenborg keeper, comes out to meet him. Zdenek chips the ball over the keeper. Oh, my! What a missed opportunity! The Rosenborg goalkeeper managed to get his fingertips on the ball, pushing it away from his goal. What a save! It's a corner kick for Tromsø."
Kristin let out a pent-up breath of air as she watched the ball sail out of play, missing the goalpost by mere centimeters. In the 91st minute, Rosenborg had survived conceding a goal.
"I guess the Rosenborg defensive players have been asleep for too long," Harald, the match pundit, commented in a flat voice. "That missed ball that allowed Zdenek Ondrasek to gain that game-changing opportunity was due to a lapse in the concentration of the Rosenborg players. I didn't expect such laxity to appear here in this top level of football."
"Talking about the laxity in concentration," Kjell Roar chipped in. "Coach Johansen has reacted immediately. Ole Selnæs, another young player of Rosenborg, has started warming up. He should be coming on for Jonas Svensson, the defensive midfielder, who mistimed that long ball and created all the trouble."
"Well," Harald said. "We only have four minutes of added time for this game. If I were Rosenborg's coach, I would also start making substitutions at this juncture. He only needs to protect the one-goal lead and shouldn't allow for any risks of conceding a goal to happen. Substitutions can help him waste some time while giving the players a few seconds to relax from the intensity of the game."
"Let's take you back to the action," Kjell Roar said, his voice rising a bit. "Hans Norbye, the Tromsø right-back, launches a powerful cross from the corner into the box. But Tore Reginiussen, the Rosenborg captain, out-jumps the rest of the players and intercepts the ball, heading it to the outside of the box..." The commentator intoned words at the pace of a machine gun while switching from English to Norwegian and back a couple of times.
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"Zachary, *clap*clap, Rosenborg, *clap*clap*, Zachary, *clap*clap..."
The fans around Kristin had long gone mad with euphoria. After Zachary scored that perfect free-kick from the tight angle, everyone around her had jumped up in joy and started clapping their hands while singing his name.
A storm of excitement had taken over the sections of the stands with Rosenborg fans, and it hadn't died down ever since the moment of the goal. Kristin, too, joined in on the cheering and celebrating as she felt like the golden age of Rosenborg had returned once again. She couldn't believe that the simple boy, who'd come to Europe only two years ago, could put up such a display within a week after making his debut for Rosenborg.
"Well then, that was some incredible stuff from Zachary Bemba," Kristin heard Kjell Roar, the commentator, yell out loud. He seemed to be trying to make himself heard over the loud singing and cheering that'd taken over Lerkendal Stadion.
"Okay, even I, as a commentator, I'm at a loss for words after having witnessed that free-kick," Kjell Roar continued. "Simple but effective from a tight angle and boom—the ball is in the back of the net, beyond the reach of Marcus Sahlman, the keeper. That was genius from the 18-year-old Rosenborg number-33. Harald! You've been smiling to yourself ever since Zachary scored that goal."
"Yes, of course," Harald Brattbakk chipped in. "I'm quite sure that anyone who enjoys football will smile or laugh when they get a chance to witness such a goal..."
"Let me correct you there," Kjell Roar interrupted him. "I'm sorry to say, but not everyone could smile and appreciate the goal the way you did. Take a look at the stands with the Tromsø fans and tell me if they are pleased after having witnessed the goal."
Harald laughed at that before continuing. "My bad, then. As I was saying, that goal was a result of a flawlessly executed effective curveball. I've to say that Zachary is one player with bottomless talent. His technique when taking the free-kick was the epitome of perfection. Textbook perfection, if I'm to say. I was amazed by his angled run-up to the ball and then his composure when making contact to unleash that curve beyond the wall and into the top right corner. What was better was that he went for the far post. Everything was textbook perfect, and he kept the keeper guessing until the very last moment."
"Zachary must have practiced this technique countless times on the training ground," the pundit continued. "For me, this signifies the making of a great player."
"Does his technique remind you of someone?" Kjell Roar inquired.
"Well, yes," Harald was quick to reply, his voice animated. "His set-piece technique has an uncanny resemblance to that of David Beckham. But I believe he has made the technique his own. You can see that from his accuracy. He can find the back of the net from any angle around the box. Last weekend, against Aalesunds, he netted one from the edge of the box in front of the arc. This time around, he has scored one from a tight angle close to the goal line. He's one hell of a dead-ball specialist."
"Thank you, Harald," Kjell Roar said. "Let's take you back to the live-action, where the game has just restarted after the goal. Coach Agnar Christensen has reacted quickly and brought on Adnan Causevic, another defender, to cover for the gap left by his captain after the red card. Team Tromsø are slowly passing the ball in their backfield..."
Kristin returned her attention to the playing field after calming down from all the excitement of celebrating Rosenborg's first goal. She continued following the match proceedings as the Tromsø players tried to hold on to the ball in their backfield.
But Tromsø's efforts to horde possession were fruitless. The Rosenborg players didn't let up the heat even after taking the lead. Instead, they increased their counter-pressing intensity. They ran at any of the opposing players with the ball like tireless madmen, never giving them even a second to relax with the ball. A while later, they managed to force the Tromsø players to play the ball high towards their center forward. The boys from the North could no longer take the pressure from Rosenborg in their backfield.
Kristin smiled, thinking that Rosenborg would soon regain possession and resume attacking once again. But to her dismay, Jonas Svensson, one of Rosenborg's defensive midfielders, mistimed the long ball when he tried to intercept it.
The color drained out of Kristin's face as she watched the ball bounce into Rosenborg's defensive third, beyond the reach of Tore Reginiussen, and towards Zdenek Ondrasek, the Tromsø center forward.
The tricky long ball had taken out the two holding midfielders and one center back from the equation, leaving Zdenek Ondrasek unmarked for a brief while. Rosenborg was in deep trouble for the first time since the match started.
Zdenek Ondrasek pounced on the ball like a cat that had detected some catnip and controlled it like the pro he was. Without any wavering, he spun around with the ball hooked to his left foot, skipping past Stefan Strandberg, one of Rosenborg's center backs, in the process. He then fed the ball forward and took off towards Rosenborg's box, leaving the Rosenborg defenders in the dust.
"Oh, my, what have we here," Kristin heard Kjell Roar yell, his voice turning dramatic. "A long ball has magically found its way to Zdenek Ondrasek, and he's bolting towards Rosenborg's box like a bullet train. Lund Hansen, the Rosenborg keeper, comes out to meet him. Zdenek chips the ball over the keeper. Oh, my! What a missed opportunity! The Rosenborg goalkeeper managed to get his fingertips on the ball, pushing it away from his goal. What a save! It's a corner kick for Tromsø."
Kristin let out a pent-up breath of air as she watched the ball sail out of play, missing the goalpost by mere centimeters. In the 91st minute, Rosenborg had survived conceding a goal.
"I guess the Rosenborg defensive players have been asleep for too long," Harald, the match pundit, commented in a flat voice. "That missed ball that allowed Zdenek Ondrasek to gain that game-changing opportunity was due to a lapse in the concentration of the Rosenborg players. I didn't expect such laxity to appear here in this top level of football."
"Talking about the laxity in concentration," Kjell Roar chipped in. "Coach Johansen has reacted immediately. Ole Selnæs, another young player of Rosenborg, has started warming up. He should be coming on for Jonas Svensson, the defensive midfielder, who mistimed that long ball and created all the trouble."
"Well," Harald said. "We only have four minutes of added time for this game. If I were Rosenborg's coach, I would also start making substitutions at this juncture. He only needs to protect the one-goal lead and shouldn't allow for any risks of conceding a goal to happen. Substitutions can help him waste some time while giving the players a few seconds to relax from the intensity of the game."
"Let's take you back to the action," Kjell Roar said, his voice rising a bit. "Hans Norbye, the Tromsø right-back, launches a powerful cross from the corner into the box. But Tore Reginiussen, the Rosenborg captain, out-jumps the rest of the players and intercepts the ball, heading it to the outside of the box..." The commentator intoned words at the pace of a machine gun while switching from English to Norwegian and back a couple of times.
"Zachary, *clap*clap, Rosenborg, *clap*clap*, Zachary, *clap*clap..."The fans around Kristin had long gone mad with euphoria. After Zachary scored that perfect free-kick from the tight angle, everyone around her had jumped up in joy and started clapping their hands while singing his name.A storm of excitement had taken over the sections of the stands with Rosenborg fans, and it hadn't died down ever since the moment of the goal. Kristin, too, joined in on the cheering and celebrating as she felt like the golden age of Rosenborg had returned once again. She couldn't believe that the simple boy, who'd come to Europe only two years ago, could put up such a display within a week after making his debut for Rosenborg."Well then, that was some incredible stuff from Zachary Bemba," Kristin heard Kjell Roar, the commentator, yell out loud. He seemed to be trying to make himself heard over the loud singing and cheering that'd taken over Lerkendal Stadion."Okay, even I, as a commentator, I'm at a loss for words after having witnessed that free-kick," Kjell Roar continued. "Simple but effective from a tight angle and boomthe ball is in the back of the net, beyond the reach of Marcus Sahlman, the keeper. That was genius from the 18-year-old Rosenborg number-33. Harald! You've been smiling to yourself ever since Zachary scored that goal.""Yes, of course," Harald Brattbakk chipped in. "I'm quite sure that anyone who enjoys football will smile or laugh when they get a chance to witness such a goal...""Let me correct you there," Kjell Roar interrupted him. "I'm sorry to say, but not everyone could smile and appreciate the goal the way you did. Take a look at the stands with the Troms fans and tell me if they are pleased after having witnessed the goal."Harald laughed at that before continuing. "My bad, then. As I was saying, that goal was a result of a flawlessly executed effective curveball. I've to say that Zachary is one player with bottomless talent. His technique when taking the free-kick was the epitome of perfection. Textbook perfection, if I'm to say. I was amazed by his angled run-up to the ball and then his composure when making contact to unleash that curve beyond the wall and into the top right corner. What was better was that he went for the far post. Everything was textbook perfect, and he kept the keeper guessing until the very last moment.""Zachary must have practiced this technique countless times on the training ground," the pundit continued. "For me, this signifies the making of a great player.""Does his technique remind you of someone?" Kjell Roar inquired."Well, yes," Harald was quick to reply, his voice animated. "His set-piece technique has an uncanny resemblance to that of David Beckham. But I believe he has made the technique his own. You can see that from his accuracy. He can find the back of the net from any angle around the box. Last weekend, against Aalesunds, he netted one from the edge of the box in front of the arc. This time around, he has scored one from a tight angle close to the goal line. He's one hell of a dead-ball specialist.""Thank you, Harald," Kjell Roar said. "Let's take you back to the live-action, where the game has just restarted after the goal. Coach Agnar Christensen has reacted quickly and brought on Adnan Causevic, another defender, to cover for the gap left by his captain after the red card. Team Troms are slowly passing the ball in their backfield..."Kristin returned her attention to the playing field after calming down from all the excitement of celebrating Rosenborg's first goal. She continued following the match proceedings as the Troms players tried to hold on to the ball in their backfield.But Troms's efforts to horde possession were fruitless. The Rosenborg players didn't let up the heat even after taking the lead. Instead, they increased their counter-pressing intensity. They ran at any of the opposing players with the ball like tireless madmen, never giving them even a second to relax with the ball. A while later, they managed to force the Troms players to play the ball high towards their center forward. The boys from the North could no longer take the pressure from Rosenborg in their backfield.Kristin smiled, thinking that Rosenborg would soon regain possession and resume attacking once again. But to her dismay, Jonas Svensson, one of Rosenborg's defensive midfielders, mistimed the long ball when he tried to intercept it.The color drained out of Kristin's face as she watched the ball bounce into Rosenborg's defensive third, beyond the reach of Tore Reginiussen, and towards Zdenek Ondrasek, the Troms center forward.The tricky long ball had taken out the two holding midfielders and one center back from the equation, leaving Zdenek Ondrasek unmarked for a brief while. Rosenborg was in deep trouble for the first time since the match started.Zdenek Ondrasek pounced on the ball like a cat that had detected some catnip and controlled it like the pro he was. Without any wavering, he spun around with the ball hooked to his left foot, skipping past Stefan Strandberg, one of Rosenborg's center backs, in the process. He then fed the ball forward and took off towards Rosenborg's box, leaving the Rosenborg defenders in the dust."Oh, my, what have we here," Kristin heard Kjell Roar yell, his voice turning dramatic. "A long ball has magically found its way to Zdenek Ondrasek, and he's bolting towards Rosenborg's box like a bullet train. Lund Hansen, the Rosenborg keeper, comes out to meet him. Zdenek chips the ball over the keeper. Oh, my! What a missed opportunity! The Rosenborg goalkeeper managed to get his fingertips on the ball, pushing it away from his goal. What a save! It's a corner kick for Troms."Kristin let out a pent-up breath of air as she watched the ball sail out of play, missing the goalpost by mere centimeters. In the 91st minute, Rosenborg had survived conceding a goal."I guess the Rosenborg defensive players have been asleep for too long," Harald, the match pundit, commented in a flat voice. "That missed ball that allowed Zdenek Ondrasek to gain that game-changing opportunity was due to a lapse in the concentration of the Rosenborg players. I didn't expect such laxity to appear here in this top level of football.""Talking about the laxity in concentration," Kjell Roar chipped in. "Coach Johansen has reacted immediately. Ole Selns, another young player of Rosenborg, has started warming up. He should be coming on for Jonas Svensson, the defensive midfielder, who mistimed that long ball and created all the trouble.""Well," Harald said. "We only have four minutes of added time for this game. If I were Rosenborg's coach, I would also start making substitutions at this juncture. He only needs to protect the one-goal lead and shouldn't allow for any risks of conceding a goal to happen. Substitutions can help him waste some time while giving the players a few seconds to relax from the intensity of the game.""Let's take you back to the action," Kjell Roar said, his voice rising a bit. "Hans Norbye, the Troms right-back, launches a powerful cross from the corner into the box. But Tore Reginiussen, the Rosenborg captain, out-jumps the rest of the players and intercepts the ball, heading it to the outside of the box..." The commentator intoned words at the pace of a machine gun while switching from English to Norwegian and back a couple of times.
