Football singularity

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[40]

Despite the mounting pressure, Leverkusen didn't crumble. Instead, they recalibrated as Amiri, and Baumgartlinger swapped positions briefly to help transition through the lines more efficiently. It worked in breaking the efficacy of their opponents' press, giving Kai room to manoeuvre. He skipped past Henderson, keeping the ball glued to his feet as he scanned for an open man.

Mane and Wijnaldum did not give him time to look for options, forcing him to perform a quick L drag, changing direction in one motion. Moving behind Wijnaldum, he spotted Rakim on the far side, just a couple of steps from the half-line. Not hesitating, he put the top of his boot through the ball, sending a grounded missile of a pass to the winger.

Rakim's head rapidly twisted left and right as he squared his body to receive the pass. Due to its momentum, he didn't have to step forward to get it; instead, he actually jumped back as the ball neared. Sensing Trent's rapid footsteps nearing, Salah's retreating footsteps ready to close him down and watching Fabinho rushing at him from the front, he knew he had to make his move.

He did so in the next second after spotting Alario making a diagonal run towards his wing from his central position. Not receiving the ball, he merely performed a Ronaldo chop, redirecting it down the line, missing Trent's boots by inches. Not bothering to check if the ball would reach its intended target, he took off diagonally, charging towards the middle channel.

[41]

The crowd rose to their feet as the ball zipped across the flank, and Alario, still in full sprint, hooked his boot around it before it went out of play. His first touch wasn't perfect—slightly heavy—but it was just enough to keep the momentum going. He did just enough to keep Van Dijk honest as he charged down the side of the goal.

He nudged the defender's shoulder lightly but quickly gave up in the duel of strength. The Argentine striker feinted inwards, then a quick stop, creating just enough room to send a grounded cross into the box. The ball was out of reach from the grasp of the outstretched Alisson as it flew past the penalty spot.

Gomez tried to lunge in trying to intercept the cross but missed by mere inches. Diaby, on the other end of the box, managed to beat Robertson to the ball, but the left-back quickly caught up, standing in front of him, locking down the shooting lanes. The Frenchman did not force it, choosing instead to pass the ball to the top of the box in the path of the on-rushing Rakim.

[42]

Rakim reached the ball at full stride, his first touch cushioning it with his instep while his body leaned slightly to the right, inviting Fabinho in. The Brazilian midfielder bit on the feint, stepping to close the space. But Rakim snapped the ball back with a swift Cruyff turn, opening his body toward the left channel. His boot laced through the ball with a crisp thump, only to feel a seething pain shoot up his right foot, which he was using for balance.

His world quickly flipped on its head as he tumbled to the ground, barely hearing the burst of cheers from the bay arena a second later. It sounded like a volcano had erupted on the 3 sides of the arena as the home fans went apeshit in celebration. "Nummer 22 Rakim REX!" The whole arena exclaimed following the announcer's prompt.

Finn, who had been celebrating like a madman the moment the ball curled past Alisson after being dominated by the away side for a spell of time. However, he came shocked stop as his gaze travelled to the figure clutching his leg in pain at the edge of the D. "Hey, Ben, isn't that Rakim on the ground?"

Ben, who had been busy jumping in joy, with his arm draped around the man next to him, whom he didn't even know, came to a sudden halt. "What the fuck are you talking about, our boy is over there celebrating," He said pointing at the corner where Rakim would usually race towards after scoring a goal only to find it with a few other players who had habitually raced to the corner but where now also realising that something was wrong.

(Fweet) The referee quickly blew his whistle as the camera swiftly cut from the celebrating crowd to the pitch where Rakim lay curled on his side, one hand gripping his right ankle, his face twisted in agony. The replay flashed on the big screen overhead. His turn had been perfect, the shot had been inch-perfect too, curling with venom toward the top corner.

However, the moment the ball left his boot, a vicious tackle from his blind spot arrived in the form of Wijnaldum. The player had missed the ball completely, only managing to hit his right boot, tearing the boot's material with its studs. "Stop acting, you've already got the goal," He shouted at Rakim on the ground before the referee could arrive, standing over him, stretching to use his hand to remove the latter's arm over his face.

"What is the Fu*$er doing!" Ben in the stands exclaimed as the silence in the stands following the silence that had started you build in the stands instantly erupted in outrage. Diaby arrived a second later, shoving Wijnaldum back causing all shit to the fan.

Wijnaldum stumbled back from Diaby's shove, arms flailing as the French winger roared at him in a fury rarely seen. "You fouled him, you coward!" Diaby barked, his forehead nearly colliding with Wijnaldum's. Players from both teams swarmed the scene, tempers flaring.

Fabinho and Henderson rushed in to defend their teammate, while Havertz and Amiri pushed between the groups, trying to de-escalate. Funnily enough, no one confronted Tah and Van Dijk as the two defenders tried to de-escalate the situation. The referee, whistling furiously, gestured for players to step back, his hand already reaching for his pocket.

The camera zoomed in on Rakim, still on the turf, his body now trembling from the pain. Lars knelt by his side, gently removing the boot to reveal a swelling ankle underneath his socks. Rakim clenched his jaw but couldn't stifle the grunt of pain as the cold air touched raw skin.

"Taylor, that's a horror tackle—late, reckless, and completely off the ball," Derek said grimly. "There's no justification for Wijnaldum's actions. He could've seriously ended the young man's night—or worse, his season."

"And it came after the shot," Taylor added, his voice sharp with indignation. "The ball had already left his boot; that kind of desperation is inexplicable this early in the first leg."

The two defenders and captains managed to calm things down between both teams with the help of the referee. However, on the sidelines, Peter Bosz was fully engaged, giving the 4th official a piece of his mind. Klopp barely managed to get a word in before he caught a few strays regarding his players' discipline and sportsmanship.

"Please calm down, Mr Marciniak will handle the situation fairly," the fourth official tried to console, but Peter was already in full attack mode and needed to find an outlet for his pent-up rage.

"What is there to handle? Send that hooligan off, this is football, not the UFC jumping in from behind like that, is this the discipline of last year's UCL winners?" He questioned in anger, glaring at Klopp, "I know that England is known for their rugby, like football, but you coached here for years, your players should have some class."

Before things could escalate further, Fredrick Bauer, Bosz, assistant coach, grasped the latter's arm and pulled him back to the heart of their technical area. "Excuse us, emotions are running high, and we're not used to this kind of underhanded actions." He apologised with a disarming smile as they retreated.

The referee, Szymon Marciniak, stepped away from the mass of jostling players, hand raised. The stadium held its breath as he slowly turned, then reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a yellow card, holding it high in front of Wijnaldum, who stoically accepted it without complaint.

The BayArena, on the other hand, wasn't so accepting and boos rained down like a summer monsoon. If not for the love of their club, their club, and the fact that it was no longer the 80s, the ultras might have rushed the pitch to hold a friendly conversation with the referee. The Liverpool midfielder raised his hands as if to plead innocence, but it only enraged the crowd more.

Derek Rae spoke the crowd's thoughts aloud. "That's not going to be enough to satisfy the home supporters here at the BayArena. That challenge could have done serious damage. The VAR check must be underway." And indeed, Marciniak raised a finger to his earpiece, pacing slowly toward the sideline.

Peter Bosz, jaw clenched tight, stared daggers into the back of the referee's head. But a moment later, the check was complete, and the LED screen flashed with the Decision: Yellow stands. This caused the stadium to erupt again as head doctor Thomas Muller and assistant doctor Simon rushed onto the pitch.

[45+3]

On the pitch, the stretcher arrived, and the physio crouched low, stabilising the joint. Moments later, his right foot was wrapped in an ice boot as he was placed on the stretcher. He kept his left arm covering his face, only lifting a thumbs-up to the home crowd as he was carried off the field.

"That's brave from the young man," Taylor noted, his voice thick with emotion. "He knows the cameras are on him, but all he's thinking about is how bad the damage is. It's a cruel blow—especially after such a world-class finish."

[# 22 OFF — Rakim Rex

# 27 ON — Florian Wirtz]

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To Be Continued...