God Of football Chapter 1057: One Outcome!

"Baena manages to get away!" Tyldesley called after the Spanish winger as he reached the ball and immediately tried to deliver, but his cross left his boot too heavily.

The ball sailed beyond the first man, and then second.

It skipped across the face of the penalty area and looked destined to run out on the opposite side as the crowd’s roar began to fall.

But then Lamine appeared.

He sprinted after it, stretching every last step until his boot reached the ball just before it crossed the line and there, he stopped it dead.

The noise returned as Lamine turned to face the ball and right ahead of him, Nuno Mendes was already there.

The Portuguese defender dropped his centre of gravity and went for the ball, but Lamine moved first.

With a subtle touch, he poked the ball straight between Mendes’ legs, and that had the Portuguese supporters groaning.

Lamine looked up, and the cross came almost immediately.

This one was better.

It curled toward the edge of the penalty area searching for a Spanish shirt, and it couldn’t have found anyone better as the Spanish number ten ran on to it.

He had already found the space, and from his angle, the ball seemed to hang for a fraction longer than it should have.

Neves charged toward him, and Izan didn’t wait for it to drop.

He jumped as Neves lunged underneath him and then once again, Izan twisted his body in the air and met the ball cleanly as the strike exploded off his boot.

"IZANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!"

Tyldesley’s voice cracked across the broadcast.

"OH, HE’S HIT THAT—"

The ball flew toward the far side, towards goal where Diogo Costa took one step.

Then another and without even taking the third, he knew he was beaten.

Still he lunged as the ball went past him, but in the next second, the sound the ball made as the shot crashed against the crossbar was like music to his ears.

"OOOHHHHHHHHH! OFF THE BAR!"

The sound was enormous as the ball came back into play.

Costa, with his form on the ground, immediately and frantically began searching for where the ball would drop, but he let up when he saw Rúben Dias.

The Manchester City player threw himself toward it and headed it away before Izan could reach the rebound.

The Spanish supporters groaned as Izan landed and stood still for a second with an annoyed look in his face.

He didn’t do that often, so it was hard to miss when he did it.

He had come within inches, but it was still level.

Costa finally rose to his feet, breathing heavily as sweat ran down his face.

Dias looked toward and then gave a thumbs up as the goalkeeper nodded in return.

By the time the attention drifted from the Portuguese box, Lamine had already collected the loose ball.

He picked it up and tossed it toward Porro as Spain began resetting.

Izan walked back into position, still looking as dangerous as ever as the game restarted.

The clock continued moving.

Forty-one.

Forty-two, and still the intensity never dropped.

Portugal defended deeper now, but Spain kept pushing.

Every time the Spanish midfield found space, Portugal collapsed around it.

Every time Portugal recovered possession, Ronaldo was already looking forward.

Before long, the whistle came, bringing the first half to a close.

For the first time in several minutes, everyone stopped.

The first half was mostly over, but nobody was even moving in the stands because it still felt like the ball might somehow end up in the back of the net.

Eventually they let up when the players began looking toward the tunnels.

Some bent over to catch their breath.

Others exchanged brief words with teammates, but it was the usual.

Ronaldo walked among the Portuguese players, occasionally clapping his hands while Izan remained near the centre before turning toward the tunnel.

And despite the closure, the stadium was still deafening.

From the gantry, Clive Tyldesley watched the players disappear.

"Forty-five minutes gone..."

He paused.

"...and I don’t think we’ve learned anything except that this game refuses to behave normally."

Ally McCoist laughed.

"That’s probably the best way to put it," he said as the scoreline appeared on the broadcast.

"Portugal have had their moments, and Spain have had theirs. Ronaldo has produced something extraordinary, but Izan has answered back with something we haven’t even seen in our dictionary before."

He leaned back as McCoist nodded.

"And somehow, after all of that, there is nothing between them."

"And that’s what makes the second half so dangerous," Ally McCoist said, "Because neither team can afford to think they’re safe."

Tyldesley looked toward the tunnel where the last Spanish players had disappeared.

"One-one at the break and after what we’ve seen already..." he smiled, "...who would dare predict what comes next?"

The cameras followed the players beneath the tunnel lights until the last of them vanished from view while the stadium remained alive behind them.

The match had given everyone forty-five minutes, and it had given them two extraordinary goals.

But it still felt like the contest had just kicked off.

.......

"That wasn’t very hard to watch," Hori muttered in the confines of the executive box, but even the most dunce person could find the sarcasm in her voice.

Beside her, she found Olivia squinting hard, causing her to nudge the latter in the elbow, wondering what was going through her mind.

"What are you thinking about?" she muttered after Olivia looked towards her.

"Ahhh..." Olivia hesitated for a bit before shaking her head.

"It’s nothing serious, really. It’s just that it is the first time I have seen Izan feeling human in a game. I mean, he has scored that goal....or whatever that was, but then it feels like the players can keep up, at least the Portuguese!"

"Really," Hori said as she turned towards the pitch.

"I haven’t noticed that!"

"Well....." she muttered as she turned to look at Olivia.

"Whatever happens, we know little is going to actually change the outcome!"

"Which is," Olivia said with a knowing smile.

"Izan is unbeatable!"