Become A Football Legend-Chapter 232: Wicked Curl

He stood over the ball for a fraction of a second, just long enough to draw them in. Kohr leaned forward. Amiri took another step.

Then, with his second touch, Lukas lifted the ball delicately over both of them.

A chipped pass, perfectly weighted, arcing into the space behind the defense.

"Knauff is in there—"

Knauff had already taken off. He burst through the right channel, untouched, drove to the edge of the box, and cut the ball back across the face of goal without breaking stride.

"EKITIKEEEEE!!!"

Ekitike met it first time.

Side-foot. Clean. Ruthless.

Riess had no chance.

The net rippled, and suddenly the away end exploded.

"Against the run of play, Eintracht Frankfurt is in front! What a pass by Brandt... He waits for the press and releases it at the perfect time. Time and time again, this kid is proving to be the real deal."

Players swarmed Ekitike, arms around shoulders, shouts of relief and joy. Lukas arrived a moment later, grinning, teammates ruffling his hair as if to acknowledge what everyone knew. He had created that chance out of nothing.

The stadium fell briefly quiet, stunned by the efficiency of it all.

Mainz responded with fury.

They pushed forward again, trying to restore the earlier tempo, winning a corner within minutes. Burkardt rose highest at the near post, but his header flew wide, brushing past the upright. The crowd urged them on, clapping, chanting, demanding more.

But something had shifted.

Frankfurt began to find their footing. The midfield stopped chasing shadows. Larsson and Skhiri started to intercept instead of react. Each minute that Mainz failed to equalize, the visitors grew calmer, more assured. The early chaos gave way to structure.

Then, in the 31st minute, Frankfurt struck again.

Koch stepped forward with the ball and slid a simple pass into Larsson, who had dropped deep to escape his marker. Larsson took one touch, lifted his head, and immediately spotted Lukas sprinting into space down the left flank.

The pass was long. High. Ambitious.

Lukas went after it at full speed.

Caci and Costa chased him, both defenders glancing between ball and man. Lukas ran with his eyes flicking upward, judging the flight, calculating the drop. Costa never looked away from him.

The ball came down, and in one fluid motion Lukas used his chest to cushion it, spinning his body at the same time. Costa lunged, committing fully, only to slide into empty grass as Lukas burst past him. The away fans behind the goal erupted, sensing danger.

Caci recovered, angling his run to block the inside lane. Costa scrambled back, the two defenders shepherding Lukas toward the byline, gesturing urgently for Brown to close the gap.

Lukas slowed, rolled the ball under his sole, and shaped his body as if to lay it off to Brown. Caci bit instantly, throwing his leg out to intercept.

The ball went straight through his legs.

In the same movement, Lukas slipped between both defenders and stepped into the box. Hanche-Olsen rushed across, but he was half a step late.

Lukas glanced once at the far corner.

Then he curled it.

The ball bent beyond Riess’s reach and kissed the top corner before dropping into the net.

"BRANDTTT!! OH MY WORD—WHAT A GOAL! THAT IS A SENSATIONAL GOAL. WHAT GOAL DROUGHT? WHAT DIP IN FORM? THIS KID IS FLOODING THE LEAGUE!"

Lukas wheeled away toward the away end, arms spread wide, a smile breaking across his face as white shirts poured after him. It was beautiful. Cold. Clinical. The kind of goal that sucked the air out of a stadium.

For a minute, Mainz Stadium fell silent again, stunned, as Frankfurt celebrated a two-goal lead forged by composure and quality.

Mainz tried to respond immediately, stung into urgency by the second goal. The crowd rose again, louder, angrier, as if volume alone could pull their team back into it. Frankfurt dropped a few meters deeper, lines compact, bodies tight, but Lukas remained an outlet, always available, always daring the press to come.

Just before the interval reached its final stretch, Frankfurt broke again down the left. The ball found Lukas near the touchline, and the reaction was instant. Caci sprinted across, Amiri slid over to help, and Sano tracked back with long strides. Lukas slowed, inviting them in, rolling the ball under his studs, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. One feint sent Amiri the wrong way. A sharp burst took him past Caci. Sano lunged, desperate, but Lukas nudged the ball ahead and slipped between them, the crowd groaning as he accelerated into space.

"Look at him go again, they just can’t stop him one-on-one."

He reached the edge of the box and cut the ball back perfectly toward the top of the area. Larsson arrived onto it in stride, opened his body, and struck cleanly.

"LARSSON— Oooh what a save by Riess! That was flying into the top corner. Brandt dancing down the wing and cutting it back for Larsson who almost sealed the game before half time, but Riess to the rescue."

The shot was rising, dipping, destined for the corner, but Riess reacted brilliantly, springing upward and tipping it over the bar with his fingertips. The Mainz goalkeeper thumped the turf in relief as Frankfurt players clapped in appreciation, sensing blood.

Mainz answered with one last surge before the break. Nebel wriggled free in midfield, slipped a pass between Koch and Tuta, and suddenly Burkardt was in behind. He took one touch and finished calmly past Trapp, wheels already turning as the stadium exploded.

But the noise died just as quickly. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

The assistant referee’s flag was up.

"Offside. Burkardt just went a fraction too early."

The replay showed it clearly. Half a step. Nothing more. Burkardt stood frozen, hands on hips, staring back toward the linesman, frustration written across his face. Frankfurt defenders exhaled, some raising an arm, others already turning to reset as whistles rained down from the stands.

The final minutes ticked away in a blur of tackles, clearances, and rising tension. Mainz kept pushing, Frankfurt kept their shape, Lukas dropping deeper now, helping recycle possession, slowing the game whenever he could. A long ball was chased, a header won, another foul drawn near the halfway line, each small moment greeted by either cheers or groans depending on the colour of the shirt.

Then the whistle came.

Three sharp blasts cut through the noise, and the first half was over. Mainz trudged toward the tunnel, shaking heads, glancing at the scoreboard. Frankfurt gathered themselves, a mix of focus and quiet satisfaction on their faces.

"And it’s halftime at the MEWA Arena in Mainz where Frankfurt lead 2-0 at the Rhineland derby. And once again, it’s the metronome, Lukas Brandt who will be on everyone’s lips after this game for that beautiful curler of a goal he scored. He glided through two defenders like they weren’t there, got into the box and curled it into the top far corner like it was any other Sunday at the park.

There have been rumours going on about his future in Frankfurt, but if he leaves, they will miss him dearly.

There’s still time to get into the game, and if Mainz wants to keep their European dreams for next season alive, they need to up the tempo and the quality in the second half."

Lukas jogged off last, eyes forward, knowing the job was only half done as the crowd continued to roar, unwilling to let the night settle just yet.