Football singularity-Chapter 730 "Don’t Lunge In!"

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[2021-04-14, 20:34 | Signal Iduna Park, Dortmund]

[Champions League Quarter-Final 2nd Leg | Aggregate: 3-3]

[79’]

The ball whipped across the face of the goal with venomous pace, curving past Bailey’s lunge, dipping toward the penalty spot. Haaland had already begun his run, spearing forward as he wedged himself between Tah and Tapsoba. The Norwegian leapt forward, striking the knee-high ball on the volley with monstrous force, pushing both defenders aside.

His blonde hair fluttered against the night wind as he connected with the ball at the apex of his lunge. The shot forward takes a wicked curve toward the far right side of the goal.

Hradecky had no time to set himself, reacting purely on instinct to lunge to his left. As he was about to get the ball, it bonced hard in front of him, its trajectory changing. Force to think quickly, he braced with his left and threw his right hand in the way of the ball that was about to vault over him.

The ball banged against his hand, shaking it slightly before it pinged to the left, crashing against the inside of the post with a sickening *CLANG*. The stadium held its breath as the ball rebounded back into the six-yard box; the keeper was unable to see it in his hurry.

Bodies scrambled in a chaotic mess—Axel Witsel threw himself at it, but Tapsoba got there first, swinging his boot desperately. The clearance was wild at best, sailing high and wide. Sancho tried to chase it down at the side of the field, but he couldn’t reach it.

"Lukas Hradecky Denies Haaland again!" Drury screamed. "So close to putting Dortmund through! The woodwork saves Leverkusen!"

"We are seeing some dangerous attacking plays here, Peter," Beglin added, his voice still shaking with adrenaline. "With the way things are going, I wouldn’t be surprised if this did not go to extra time."

[82’]

The throw-in was taken quickly by Morey, finding Bellingham on the edge of the centre circle. The English teenager took one touch, then drove forward, his head up, scanning for options. He played it wide to Sancho on the right, who immediately took on Daley with a sharp burst of acceleration.

The Dutch left-back tried to track him, but Sancho was too quick, feinting a breakthrough on the flank and then cutting inside onto his left foot. He shaped to shoot, drawing Tah across, then slipped a pass to Reus at the top of the D. The German captain struck it first-time from eighteen yards, the ball flying to the left side of the goal.

Hradecky had a good view of it and tracked it all the way, launching himself through the air. His hand firmly pushed the ball beyond the post before crashing to the ground. "LUKAS HRADECKY!" Drury bellowed. "Another save under his collar, something he has made a habit of!"

"He sure has over the past two seasons. He has really exploded in the shot-stopping ability," Beglin said. "Without him, this team couldn’t attack without hesitation. Speaking of which, Wirtz is surging forward."

[85’]

The German teen sensation dropped to his team’s third and called for the ball from Tah, Bender, and Demirbay, who seemed content on maintaining possession. He had no patience for that, and upon receiving the ball, he braced off Can, who was guarding him tightly. Looking left, Rakim raised his hand for the ball, and he turned that way, eliciting a reaction from his bodyguard.

Emre Can only witnessed Rakim running forward without waiting for the pass when Wirtz was gone the other way, performing a nimble Cruffy turn. Crossing into the opposing half, he quickly gained momentum before defenders appeared to stop him.

Coaches usually only gave one piece of advice to players who lacked natural defensive weapons but excelled in attack: "Don’t lunge in." Just like a man facing a wild animal, the attacker is more nervous than you are, unless you’re facing a snake, then pray to god.

A veteran of the game, 2012 and 2019 German player of the year, and three times Bundesliga player of the year, Marco Reus should have known this. Yet in his haste to kill Wirtz’s momentum, he lunged in fully with a slide tackle, legs tightened to the max as he aimed for the ball. Yet the young wunderkid’s senses seemed to be strained to the max, his danger senses practically tingling.

He barely managed to nudge the ball to his right foot in an attempt to escape, but it was too late. The Dortmund captain’s studs dug into the back of his heel just as he tried to jump away. Wirtz thought heared a pop before crashing to the ground, and before he could process, a searing pain shot through his left ankle. An anguished scream was heard as he clutched his ankle, wriggling on the ground, just trying to get the pain to stop.

*(FWEEEEEEET!)*

His face contorted in pain, involuntary tears welling up in his eyes, quickly clouding his vision. He could vaguely hear shouts and arguments, but none of that mattered to him, who felt like cutting off his foot if it would make the pain stop. But any attempt to exert force on him elicited mind-numbing pain in all his senses in retaliation.

Many voices attempted to talk to him, but the clearest was Rakim, probably because of how much time they spent together. "Flo, you good?" He heard him ask, feeling his presence crouched over his head, looking into the glare of the floodlights. "What a stupid question, no need to roll your eyes. Bet you wished you had passed the ball to me right about now, huh?"

Throwing his hand in protest, he smacked the latter’s knee again before feeling a hand grip his hand. "Don’t stress too much, you’ll be back to losing to me in Horse in no time." He heard him say calmly, but he could tell he was worried by the slight shaking of his hand, or was it his own that was shaking; he couldn’t tell. "Doc, I think he is calm enough now. Don’t worry, the Müller is here to give you some choco milk to make you all better."

The medical team and Dr Müller immediately got to work dropping their knees to assess the injury. His fingers probed carefully around the ankle, and every slight movement elicited a sharp intake of breath from the teenager. "Easy, Florian," Dr Müller said calmly, his voice soothing despite the urgency. "I need to check the range of motion. This will hurt, but I need you to tell me where it’s worst."

Wirtz nodded weakly, his jaw clenched tight as the doctor gently rotated the ankle—Wirtz’s wheezed hot air out that was visible in the cool night air. "Okay, okay," Dr Müller said quickly, stopping immediately. He looked up at the stretcher bearers who had arrived. "We need to get him off. Possible ligament damage, maybe a fracture. We won’t know until we get imaging."

Meanwhile, the chaos that had erupted around the referee following the tackle was coming to a close. Tah was still in Reus’s face, exchanging words. "What the fuck was that?! You could’ve broken his ankle!"

"I went for the ball!" Reus protested, though his face was pale, regret visible.

The referee pushed between them, reaching into his pocket, giving out a few yellows to the more rowdy players. He moved before Reus and pulled out a yellow, holding it high toward the German international. The Dortmund captain accepted it without protest, his expression grim.

"Should be red!" Bailey shouted from nearby, but the referee motioned for him to shut up unless he also wanted a card. Bosz had visibly calmed down from his initial reaction, the red slowly leaving his complexion, though anyone could easily tell he was pissed. His assistant, Fredrick Bauer, was gesturing frantically for his bench. "Lucas! Get ready! Now!"

Lucas Alario had already been warming up and simply stripped off his tracksuit bottom and top, jogging to the touchline as the stretcher bearers carefully lifted Wirtz. The German teenager’s face was twisted in pain, a hand draped over his eyes. "Just worry about getting treatment, kid, you did well," Bosz said as they brushed by, heading to the tunnel, receiving a weak thumbs up.

As the stretcher disappeared down the tunnel, the fourth official raised his board: number 27 off, number 13 on. "Florian Wirtz is forced off with what looks like a serious ankle injury," Drury said somberly. "This is a huge blow for Leverkusen—not just for this match, but potentially for the rest of what was turning out to be an incredible season."

"Absolutely devastating," Beglin added. "That tackle from Reus was reckless. The yellow card seems lenient, in my opinion. And you have to wonder—if Wirtz is out long-term, what does that mean for his chances in Germany’s Euros squad?"

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. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

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TO BE CONTINUED...