The crowd rose as one. Berghuis's pass dropped perfectly into Benjamin's path. His first touch was immaculate, and he was off instantly.
A defender scrambled to close him down, but it was hopeless. Benjamin ate up the ground, his stride smooth and powerful.
[No one's catching him!] Mike yelled.
Inside the 18 yard box, Altidore peeled away from his marker with his hands out, calling for it.
Benjamin had options available.
He glanced up, saw Altidore's movement—then cut inside again, dragging two defenders with him.
[He's taking them on!] the co-commentator said, breathless.
A desperate lunge came in—Benjamin flicked it past. Another defender rushed forward—he feinted left, leaving him stumbling.
Gasps poured out from the stands. Benjamin was dancing through them again and again.
[This is outrageous footwork!] Mike shouted. [He's making them look foolish!]
One last step—One last defender left to eat dust.