The football rolled across the sideline as it exited the boundaries of the pitch. Again the attacking pattern developed by Le Harve has not only failed to break through the stubborn Amiens defence, but they are also losing their control of the match.
The Amiens left wing-back, Azad, collected the ball from the edge of the pitch as he positioned himself to release a throw-in for his teammates to collect the ball. However, the player finds that although his team is certainly not committing men forwards, this has caused an effect on his available passing options, as he could find no players that he could throw to without being challenged for the ball.
Azad looked in the midfield, where he finds Andre, Delmeida, and Konavo tightly marked, by their respective midfield counterparts. He looked at the forwards' lines but finds 2 defenders marking each of Amiens' two strikers. Azad contemplated whether he should pass it back to the centre-back but he finds the Le Harve No.9 eagerly awaiting an opportunity to steal the ball.
Whilst Azad understands their formations allow them to play a defensively solid game, going forward their team often lacks verticality and it forces players to naturally play a direct game subconsciously due to a lack of short passing options that can patiently break down a press. The wingback glanced back behind him, where he sees his manager Vlad nodding his head whilst pointing at the Le Harve goal. The message was clear, to get the ball away from their half at all cost.
Sébastien: "Azad has the ball for the throw-in, he pulls himself back... and he throws it into a pile of Le Harve bodies upfield."
Delmeida was momentarily stunned as he didn't expect Azad to throw such an unexpected throw-in to find him as the central midfielder, playing in the middle of the Amiens midfield trio. Delmeida immediately began to panic. "Dammit, Azad! Of all the people available you choose me? Why didn't you use your free pass to throw it into the box and push the defenders back?!"
The midfielder was distressed, as the long flat thrown ball is coming at him at a simple trajectory. He rushes to the ball as he prepares to quickly kick it upfield without spending too much time on the ball. He couldn't risk letting any players get behind him, as he is the second last line of defence before the goal.
The midfielder looks to the forwards for help, before calling out to the three centre-backs to close the door, but they couldn't get their heads up quick enough as Delmeida is challenged for the ball. The Le Harve player, adorned with the team's captain armband, read the situation well and the instant Delmeida received the ball, but was not yet in control of it, pressed the midfielder, using his body as he leans in towards the back of him. Roys used his body weight as he pressed upon the midfielder, and whilst using his right foot to get a poke upon the ball.
Flustered, Delmeida passed the ball to Andre without taking too much of a look as he was concerned about losing the ball, which would give Le Harve a fantastic counterattacking chance.
"Delmeida scrambles the ball to Andre ––OH! A great interception by Eze to win the ball. COUNTER!"
From the blindside of Andre, when the Amiens midfielder was eyeing the ball, there was a moment of inattentiveness as he was caught ball-watching, without observing his surroundings and being aware of what is happening around him. Andre opened his body for the pass, but from the flanks, a body suddenly stole the ball under his feet, with him left defenceless.
Eze did an excellent job of intercepting the ball, with the ball then rolling to his left foot. He produced a delightful touch to guide the ball into the wide open space, immediately running down the right flank to make the best use of his pace.
The commentator for the first time since the opening goal, felt a sensation as something hit him to the core. His once stale and lethargic commentating took a dramatic turn as he observes the brewing of a goal. "Running down the flank is Eze, in arches of space as Azad and Andre were caught napping up the pitch."
Eze felt rejuvenated as he finds himself in space as no Amiens players have bothered to track his run, with Le Harve players rushing up the pitch to join the counter. His eyes darted as he scanned the pitch with a glance, confident as he is aware no players are around him.
In front, Leroy is running frantically towards the goal with three defenders surrounding him from all angles. Behind, the midfielders of both teams are making a dash towards Amiens' box. The winger gritted his teeth as he finds he has no real passing options available to him, and his only possible option is to lay off to someone around him. But Eze shook his head, as he is aware that if he decides to discontinue the counter, Le Harve wouldn't have more opportunities like this again.
"Eze with the ball... and he's cutting inside the pitch..."
The centre-back closest to Eze was left in two worlds, as he finds the winger getting more and more central to attack down the middle. He spots the ball coming his way, but also with a clear mind as he decides to charge at the forward, to intercept the pass and get back on his feet. Three defenders are covering a single striker, there is enough protection for him to leave his spot. The ball approaches, and the defender makes an impressive sliding tackle that took Eze by surprise.
That said, the tackle will not stupefy the winger, as Eze was secretly delighted as he witness a defender stepping out. As he looked around to have space to take another touch, in order to prepare the punt forward. But with a forward stride, before the defender could tackle him, he kicked the ball forward towards the goal, as he judged with his eyes.
"The defender tackles Eze... BUT NOT BEFORE A HAIL MARY PASS FROM THE FORWARD!!!"
The ball was high in the air but had enough elevation to fly over the defender as it dropped onto the field behind the players but in front of the goalie. For a moment everyone thought that the situation was going to be a disappointment – only for the ball to squirt into the goalkeeper's hand to put Amiens back into possession.
But a figure appeared before everyone's eyes, a figure dashing upon the white-curtained field, dressed in the sky and navy blue colours, and beating the two men that were fighting against him. His feet couldn't run faster as he emerged victorious in the fight for the ball which made everyone stand and stare at this young player who most people had forgotten about, as he was kept invisible for much of the game.
"Uh oh! What does this mean? Look! IT'S BENOIT LEROY!!!"
The commentators began to form a circle so that everyone was there for what was about to happen.
The supporters stood there, the same ones who would not stop praising their team's unbeatable defence with songs throughout the half, some even contemplated leaving the game as the match became stale and predictable. Some just decided to join the supporters in leaving the ground as they feel the game is of no worth and could be easy pickings for Amiens.
But, a chant began to fill the air, that is always with us. "Benoît! Benoît! !" - a popular chant for a few minutes at most at any match in French football, where a player will emerge that nobody was expecting. An encouragement from the supporters is to give a gentle push to a player who would not bring out the best in the side but just show up on the occasions that matter.
The number nine carried the heavy burdens and expectations as he took the field on Stade Charles Argentin, running against the wind, the snow pressed upon his foot and crystallised expirations that could send shivers to his lips. As he tiptoed forward, or you could say sprinted against the elements. A player emerged, and the supporters which were supporting the hero chittered their jaws from the stands as they chanted Benoit's name.
But Benoît was not there for them to celebrate. He is on the field, for them. And the fans knew that. The fans knew that they needed the hero on the pitch to bring hope to them, to end the fear that they may have, that their team is not worthy of winning games. They needed a goal. They need to believe. They need to escape from the slumber that their side has gone into.
Leroy eyed the goal as he began to run towards it, like a tiger on the hunt, angling his body to run, to run and not run away from it as his legs started to catch up with his speed. He approached it like a predator and turned his head to have a look. He knew the goalkeeper had spotted him and is well prepared himself for the shot. Benoît collected the ball and crept ever closer as the faint lines of the box materialised before him. He picked the spot, he picked the shooting position, and then he took it.
"LEROY RUNNING FULL SPEED! APPROACHING THE BOX! –– HE SHOOTS!!!"
The shot had enough power behind it, the run, the speed and the power behind it, to explode into the goal like a cannon. The keeper saw it coming and had time to pick himself, to ready himself for the shot. But, it had power behind it, enough to carry him the length of the pitch, to let him fall to his hands and knees as he saw it rocketing towards the goal. The crowd went mad as the ball sailed into the corner, as the goalkeeper fell to his hands and knees and felt like he had been beaten.
The supporters rushed forward from their seats like a wave, everyone shouting at the striker's name as they viewed the shot.
"OHH NOOOO!!! –– IT GOES JUST WIDE OF THE POST..." Sébastien squeaked as he covered his eyes in horror.