Chapter 144: A Dead-Ball Specialist II

Kristin's entire focus was on the field of play. She watched with nervous anticipation as Mike Jensen, one of Rosenborg's defensive midfielders, shrugged off an opponent before heading the just-cleared ball further away from his box. He managed to direct it towards the right-wing, where Tobias Mikkelsen was lurking.

Tobias Mikkelsen, the Rosenborg left-forward, controlled it well close to the touchline in the right-wing. And without any delay, he fed it past Saliou Ciss, the Tromsø left-back, before beating him for pace. He was soon rushing across the touchline, heading towards Tromsø's half like a bullet train on the rails.

The counter-attack was on. The fans around Kristin rose from their seat due to the lightning-fast intensity of the counter-attack.

Josh Pritchard, one of Rosenborg's defensive midfielders, soon rushed at the sprinting Rosenborg left forward to close him down. Tobias didn't try to dribble past him. Instead, he flicked the ball onto his right foot and unleashed a cut-back pass into the middle of the pitch where Zachary had just arrived.

Zachary controlled the ball mid-sprint without slowing down. Without wasting even a single second, he continued bolting like a cheetah towards Tromsø's side of the field. He was so fast that he managed to race across the middle third of the pitch in just a couple of seconds.

Ruben Jenssen, the other Tromsø defensive midfielder, came to close down Zachary's run as he stepped past the middle third. Zachary flicked the ball to Nicki Nielsen, who'd long run into space and opened himself up to receive a pass in the left-wing.

Nicki Nielsen didn't disappoint. He latched on to Zachary's pin-point pass before cutting into the pitch and making a diagonal run at Tromsø's defensive line like the wind. He was upon one of the defenders in a matter of seconds.

Nicki didn't lose his composure when faced with the blockade by the defender. Instead, he started flicking the ball from his left to right foot as he slowly approached the box from the flanks.

"Pass! Pass!" Kristin heard many of the Rosenborg fans in the stadium start yelling at Nicki Nielsen. That was because he'd held on to the ball longer than necessary and held back Roseborg's lightning-swift counter-attack. Down the field of play, Zachary, Tarik, and Tobias Mikkelsen had already arrived—and were eagerly waiting for a return pass from Nicki.

However, the number-9 seemed not to have heard the imploring calls of the fans. Nicki Nielsen continued trying to dribble past Jaroslaw Fojut, the Tromsø center back, until the latter was—forced to push out his leg to make contact with the ball. The action seemed to be what Nicki had been anticipating. The next instant, Nicki accelerated, trying to bolt past Jaroslaw Fojut and step into Tromsø's box.

But the Tromsø center back was having none of his nonsense. He shifted his body slightly, planting himself into the sprinting path of the number-9. That way, Jaroslaw Fojut managed to bar the striker from entering his box.

Kristin winced as she watched the Rosenborg number-9 collide head-on with the Tromsø center back before ricocheting backward and collapsing supine on the ground.

*FWEEEEEEE*

The referee blew the whistle, awarding Rosenborg yet another free-kick in a dangerous position at the corner of the 18-yard-box. But none of the Rosenborg players celebrated as Nicki was still lying on the ground after bearing the full brunt of the collision with the Tromsø center back. He seemed to be in a lot of pain.

"That was some nasty full-body block by Jaroslaw Fojut on Nicki Nielsen," Kristin heard Kjell Roar, the commentator, say. "The referee has shown a yellow card to the Tromsø center back for that nasty obstruction. He's lucky to have escaped a red card."

"You are right, Kjell," Harald chipped in. "The center-back was the last man barring Nicki from the keeper and the goal. In my opinion, it should have been another red for Tromsø. But he got away lightly with a yellow."

"But still," Kjell Roar cut in, "Rosenborg has gotten another chance to have a go at Tromsø's goal with another set-piece from yet another dangerous position. We might get a chance to see more magic from Zachary this evening." He added, his voice animated.

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Kristin returned her full attention to the pitch. The medics had arrived and were helping Nicki Nielsen off the pitch. In the meantime, Zachary had already picked up the ball and seemed ready to take the set-piece once again. Kristin could feel the fans around her getting animated as they waited for Zachary to perform his magic once more.

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On the pitch, on the left flank, Zachary bent down and positioned the ball just outside the corner of the 18-yard-box. The rest of Zachary's teammates had unanimously agreed to let him take the free-kick once again. Not even Mike Jensen or Tarik Elyounoussi, the other set-piece takers on the team, had raised a complaint. It seemed like they'd finally recognized his skill as a dead-ball specialist.

"Young man, don't try to act smart by shortening the distance," the referee said, interrupting him. "Move the ball a little bit back. The foul was—committed a couple of meters from the box. Not at the edge."

Zachary could only smile wryly on hearing the referee. Without any complaints, he picked up the ball and moved it a few meters back from the edge of the box. Zachary wasn't the least bit worried as the extra distance wouldn't affect his accuracy by that much. He'd spent hours training how to convert set-pieces from various areas of the attacking third. He was confident he would hit the target as long as he was anywhere near the opponent's box.

*FWEEEEEEE*

The referee blew his whistle after organizing the wall and the rest of the players in the box. Zachary reacted instantly, taking a deep breath to calm himself down before stepping back from the ball.

For the third time during that game, he made his short angled run-up to the ball by following the motions of the Bend-it like Beckham Juju. He then took the final jump step and made his desired ideal contact with the ball, sending it spinning on a curling trajectory towards the inside of the top left corner.

The ball soared into the air, flying over the wall and then dipping slightly before curving further outside—out of the goalkeeper's reach. And without any surprise, it homed into the back of the net like a ballistic missile finding its intended target. The Tromsø keeper couldn't even react and stayed rooted in one position, seemingly wondering what the hell had happened.

2:0.

The cheers that rose in Lerkendal Stadium were as loud as the greatest of celebratory firework explosions. Rosenborg had managed to score its second goal in the 93rd minute, with only a single minute off added time remaining on the clock.

Zachary felt a sudden flare of joy streak through him like a comet after seeing the ball nestled in the back of the net. Like the previous times, he ran to the corner flag to celebrate and express his delight after netting the goal. However, before he could reach his destination, Mikael Dorsin, the Rosenborg assistant captain, intercepted him along the way.

"If you dare take off your jersey, I'll fight you," the assistant captain yelled after pulling at Zachary's shirt to stop him from continuing to the corner flag. "You'll get a red card this time around."

"Oh," Zachary said, smiling sheepishly and cooling down. "But I wasn't going to take off my shirt..." He stopped mid-sentence as the rest of his teammates had arrived and started jumping on them to celebrate the goal.

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