Henriksen trotted back to the corner flag, his expression determined as he placed the ball with precision.
The AZ Alkmaar players clustered tightly near the penalty spot, their movements calculated as they prepared for yet another assault on the PSV goal.
[This is like a chess match in the box,] Mike observed, his voice tinged with excitement. [Look at the way they're positioning themselves—it's all about timing now]
Henriksen raised his arm, signaling his intent, before delivering a lofted cross that arced toward the penalty area.
The ball hung in the air, the tension palpable as players leapt and jostled for the perfect connection.
[Here it comes! Who's going to get on the end of it?] Mike exclaimed.
The ball deflected awkwardly off Bouma's head, spinning into the middle of a chaotic cluster of players.
For a moment, it was pure mayhem—a flurry of boots, shins, and desperate lunges from the players of both teams.