Unforeseen Resistance IX

The time winded down on the match clock as the Le Harve side watched Amiens fortify their impenetrable defence. The likes of Leroy, Chevalier, Séverin, Eze, and Arbeleaz struggling to find their opportunity to shine. The away team didn't hesitate to sit deep in their half, but even more concerning they have shown their intention to score another goal, hitting the counter with a flashing pace to tear Le Harve apart.

The sky and navy blue enjoyed their time on the ball, yet there was hesitation in their actions on their field. But there was still desperation, a desire and an urge to win this game. Lanier watched ever closer as he grew deftly quiet on the sidelines. "Ideas Marley? I have my solutions, but what are yours?"

Marley observed keenly as he heard his junior's inquiry. "They defend the flanks, so attack the middle!"

The baldy nodded as his thoughts aligned with the manager's. Vlad had altered their formation from 5-3-2 to a 5-4-1. And the crucial issue is that they have sacrificed a midfielder to get more players out wide. It is vital to change their strategy to bolster their threat through the middle.

The coach checked the time. 70 minutes of the match have been played, which is prime time for a substitute in Lanier's mind. The coach darted his eyes from the field to the dugout, evaluating the players available. But his eyes were focused on one particular option on the bench as he remembered the speciality of the boy, and what he offered differently to Leroy.

"You've been stretching since the start of the game. Get ready. You're playing, Pape."

The coach also eyed another player that had athletic tape bandaged on his knee. Lanier scratched his head as he for a moment doubted whether it was the right choice. But he asked anyway. "Can you last half an hour?"

The player grinned. "Thought you will never ask." With athletic tape bandaged on his knee, he stood up from the bench, cracking his neck. "I'm always ready..."

Then Marley averted his eyes to one that he never expect to be called forth. "Kai, you think you can do it?"

The player eagerly nodded without any hesitance. "OF COURSE!"

Sébastien and Horace spectated from the box, detailing the events below through their words displayed through their eyes. But the movement of the fourth official stole their attention. "Action from the Le Harve dugout. Looks like Marley and his team have finally made their move."

Horace nodded as he viewed the players that stood by the sidelines. "Ah. Bernard Pape is coming on the field... Another player making his debute for LE Havre U-19. And also... that kid!"

The talkative Sébastien his surprise was made clear to the audience as he witnessed the player. "OH, FANTASTIC! Horace, do you remember him? That kid? The one that never starts a match but is always used as a substitute?"

.

On the field, he trembled forth. The tall Pape marched straight up the field replacing Chevalier and now playing as another striker. Séverin was also ordered off the field, his replacement being none other than the Le Harve No.21, Cléments Desroches. Whilst the diminutive Asian, Kai is put on the field for Léopold Roussel/

The game had barely continued when the Amiens team realised that the players they were expecting, disappeared to another location. Pape played up the top with Leroy to lead the front of the attack. Whilst the Desroches played slightly behind the two strikers as an attacking midfielder.

Another formation change. Le Harve altered their setup from a 5-2-3 to a 5-2-1-2, rekindling their attacking intention through the middle of the pitch. Vlad also realised this ploy as he noticed their intention, immediately barking instructions from the sidelines.

"Forestier! Forestier!"

The play had stopped as the ball was temporarily out of bounds for a corner. The player came rushing to his manager's call like a dog following his owner's orders.

"Yes.."

"Tell everyone we are changing to our 4-1-4-1. Forestier..." Vlad had his arms outreached as he placed them on the player's shoulders. "Play as my CDM. Stop that kid... the No.21"

Forestier was unsure of his manager's worries, and why he would suddenly appear so alarmed. Vlad always had an aura of calmness surrounding his personality. With him suddenly displaying a personality change. It's a rare site to witness, with the whole team unanimously calling it a "once in a lifetime" occurrence.

As the ball steadied itself. It was a corner given to Le Harve. The usual subject of the set-piece taker, Gerald Roys, had already positioned himself at the post to deliver the corner. But upon seeing Desroches walking indifferently on the pitch, the captain had a new light shine in front of him as he ignored the players that were wrestling in the box, awaiting the ball to head it into the goal.

The referee blew his whistle as he confirmed the captain was allowed to proceed. "And Roys takes the corner. He does his run-up..."

The players in the Amiens box tightly marked the tall players that were in the box. The Amiens defenders visibly focused on the giant Pape as they are wary of such an aerial threat. Other than Pape, any other players that were decently tall also lurked in the box to find an opportunity to head the ball in.

As the ball launched itself from the corner post, it floated up in the air as it swerved into the middle of the pitch. But to everyone's surprise, the ball was not going into Amien's box, but right into the midfield.

Forestier had his doubts about why Vlad warned him to shut down the player before him. For one he understand his manager was never wrong, but such a reaction? There must be something different in the No.21 of Le Harve: Cléments Desroche.

"The corner ball goes into the midfield..."

Forestier had his eyes on the ball as he realised it was going towards Desroches. He positioned himself, readying himself to dispossess the attacking midfielder at the first opportunity. But whilst the ball was still in mid-air. Desroches raised his leg like something in a karate movie, eyeing the ball with all his focus.

Forestier had his eyes raised wide as he wasn't expecting such a development. Sébastien was off his seat as he viewed the miraculous No.21.

"OH AND DESROCHE SHOOTS!!!!!"

It was the perfect collision. A sweet "Pang" was heard by everyone on the field as they could only helplessly watch the player struck the ball with such precision. Redirecting the ball with ease. The Amiens keeper had his eyes flustered, as the wall of bodies blocked his view. But he nevertheless saw the ball flying into his net. His vision blurred, but the keeper dived towards the direction of where the ball was heading forth.

Kai was off his seat. Lanier was off his seat. Marley almost lost balance as he arched too much forward to see the play develop. But all had their hands on their heads as they witness the crossbar denying Desroches' attempt from range.

Sébastien was shaking his head in disbelief. "AHHHH –– Desroche performed his trademark long shot again. I thought that was going in!"

Horace took a breath before catching the commentary. "That was dangerous for Amiens. It seems Le Harve have decided they need more creativity. Bringing on Desroche to display his magic."

Vlad raised his arm high, gesturing at Forestier as he pointed at the Le Harve No.21. Making clear actions to demand Forestier to not give him another touch on the ball.

The play resumed once more, with Amiens having the goal kick. The away team keeper placed the ball at the corner of the box before performing his standard run-up to clear the ball up the field. Whilst all is happening, Forestier who is tasked with harassing Desroche to no ends, realised the player was not even remotely near where he should be playing. Forestier was certain his target was playing as an Attacking Midfielder, but to his surprise, the player had vacated the tactical setup and had instead placed himself deep in the midfield. Almost playing as a deep-lying midfielder.

There was doubt in Forestier's mind, questioning if he should continue tightly marking the player even at the risk of his team's formational stability.

The ball was kicked upfield for Granger. But the Le Harve defenders long expected it and headed the ball away for their midfielders. The charismatic and exemplary player of Gerald Roys was at the receiving end of the header, collecting the ball from his defenders as he judged the players available for his pass. But he looked no further as only a few meters away from himself, Desroches was already standing there.

The No.21 only had two touches on the ball after receiving that pass. One to steady the ball on the pitch. The second touch to spray the most beautiful long-range pass Kai had ever witnessed. The passes that he could only watch from elite players. Desroches made it look so effortless, as the ball travelled over the entirety of the midfield, straight to the head of one player... the tallest player: Bernard Pape.

"OH!" Sébastien was taken aback, even if he had commentated multiple games that included Desroches appearance. "Great pass! The No.21 finds striker Pape up the field."

Bernard Pape winced as he realised the ball was not too high, nor was it too low. It was just at the right height, the perfect height that he, only he could reach with his impressive jumping ability. Yet as the ball came zooming on his head, Pape realised he had jumped slightly too late, causing the ball to skim over his head like a peddle bouncing on the water.

He mistimed the header. But at this moment, when he cast his glance to where he headed the ball. He found one figure, the dashing figure of the No.9 Benoit Leroy getting on the ball.

The striker chased after the headed ball. But not uncontested as another 2 defenders were guarding the ball away from Leroy's feet. The striker ran faster, flailing his arms to keep the defenders back and to give him an extra inch of space.

The ball was only a few meters away from himself, rolling across the snowy field. Yet as his arms were outreached, the referee blew his whistle against his will. The striker was understandably angry at the referee's call, livid at the stoppage of his golden opportunity to score a goal.

The referee rushed forth in front of Leroy, and before the striker can even display his frustrations, the referee did a gesture he had already long grown familiar with.

"Mr Leroy. You elbowed that defender in the stomach....." the referee argued, pointing his finger at the striker, "And as a result, he fell. A fall, that can only be caused by contact."

The striker stood there, seething, looking at the referee with resentment. A puff of white smoke appeared above Leroy, like an angry volcano in the snowy arena.

Lanier slapped the wooden bench as he grew agitated, hopping on the sidelines as he saw the referee handing Leroy yet another yellow card. "Damn kid. Can't go a game without getting booked!"