Football singularity

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[64']

The fresh legs made an immediate impact. Bailey collected the ball on the right touchline, his first touches sharp as he seemingly joined the flow of the match. He jokeyed Friedl inward before breaking past him along the touch line, setting a chase. Instead of swinging in a cross, she pulled the ball back, seizing up Friedl, who had managed to recover.

The Jamaican's feint was masterful, dropping his shoulder as if to go inside before exploding back toward the byline. Friedl committed to the movement, his weight shifting just enough for Bailey to exploit the gap. With a delicate touch, Bailey nudged the ball past the recovering defender and into the space behind him.

This time, Bailey had options. Havertz was making his run toward the near post, while Rakim had drifted into the penalty area from the opposite flank. The Jamaican whipped in a low cross that skimmed across the wet grass, but Moisander read the danger perfectly, sliding in to intercept before either forward could pounce.

The ball ricocheted off the Bremen captain's shin, and before Amiri could pounce on it, Pavlenka smothered it. The Czechian took a moment before getting up, giving his team a chance to relax and gather themselves. "Bailey's already making his presence felt," Derek Rae observed. "That direct running will cause Bremen problems; they need to stop him early."

"Yes, Derek, they don't want him to give him a chance to get going, because just like 911 GT3 once it's warm, there's no stopping it," Robson commented as the keeper launched the ball up the field with a powerful throw.

[70]

For the next few minutes, the game entered a stalemate with neither side being able to mount a meaningful attack. Demirbay and Amiri became the most active on the Leverkusen side, managing to win the battle of possession in the middle of the pitch. They dictated the tempo with patient passing, probing for weaknesses in Bremen's increasingly compact defensive shape.

Bremen sat deeper now, their energy reserves depleting after the intense pressing of the second half's opening exchanges. Kohfeldt could be seen pacing his technical area, occasionally shouting instructions that echoed clearly around the empty stadium. His players had fought valiantly but were beginning to show signs of letting up against Leverkusen's superior technical quality.

Rakim hadn't done anything drastic since his introduction in the match as he seamlessly slotted into the left wing. He played clean, efficient one or two-touch football, keeping his marker on his toes. He seemed to be doing the bare minimum to help his team retain control, but despite this, the passes out to his wing continued to increase.

The change came in the 72nd minute when he received a pass, the ball thirty yards from the goal. He didn't immediately look to beat his man - instead, he held possession, drawing Woltemade toward him before releasing simple passes inwards to the approaching Baumgartlinger. Before the Bremen youngstar could react, Rakim sped past him from the outside, latching onto the Austrian's return pass.

"Oh, oh, he 's on the move, Derek," Robson commented as Rakim picked up speed, causing a chain reaction from his teammates. His movements were sharp and clean as he cut inwards, moving across the chasing Woltemade, heading into the area between Gebre and Veljkovic.

He performed a rapid set of steps over as the distance neared, his body swaying side to side, keeping the two defenders at bay. A sudden scissors right over left froze Gebre; a drop of the shoulder sent Veljkovic leaning the wrong way. Rakim slid the ball through the narrow seam, an elastico that kissed the chalk at the edge of the box.

Veljkovic lunged forward in an attempt to steal the slightly airborne ball. Rakim reacted instantly as he lifted the ball higher with his right boot, which seemed glued to it. He rode the momentum forward as he vaulted over the downed defender, barely using half a touch to kill the bounce.

He used another touch to drag the ball across his body as Pavlenka charged out of his goal, arms outstretched. "Can he do it?" Derek Rae exclaimed, but Rakim did not panic as he shaped for the near post, then snapped his ankle and whipped the shot across goal instead.

The keeper's left arm struck the underside of the ball, managing to smack it just beyond the far post. "Big save, Pavlenka!" Robson commented. "Rex sold him the eyes, but Pavlenka somehow managed to pull out a save."

[73']

From the resulting corner, the ball swung invitingly toward the penalty spot where Havertz had stationed himself between two green shirts. His leap was perfectly timed, rising above both Moisander and Eggestein to meet the ball with his forehead. The header was goalbound, but Pavlenka produced another stunning save, somehow getting his fingertips to it and diverting it onto the crossbar.

The rebound dropped kindly for Tapsoba, but the recovering Selke charged down the Burkina Faso international's follow-up shot. Bodies crashed into each other as both teams scrambled for the loose ball, but it was Johannes Eggestein who eventually cleared with a desperate hack that sent it sailing over the touchline.

The game had entered a critical phase. Bremen knew they needed something special to find an equaliser, while Leverkusen sensed that one more goal would kill the contest entirely. The intensity ratcheted up another notch, every tackle contested with increased ferocity, every pass made with added urgency.

Rakim was beginning to show flashes of the talent that had caught the footballing world as he settled into the match. His movements became increasingly unpredictable, as he was almost always on the move once the ball entered his area of influence. When he received the ball thirty yards from goal, two green shirts immediately closed him down.

His first touch was sublime, cushioning the ball away from Vogt's challenge before flicking it over the head of the approaching Eggestein with his next. The young winger was through the gap and piercing into the middle channel before either midfielder could react. A quick one-two with Kai at the edge of the box and he let loose a rocket with his left boot before the nearby defenders could react.

"Oh, he shoots!" Derek exclaimed, his voice reverberating through the viewers' speakers as the ball blazed across the turf like a guided missile.

The shot had power and precision, as it veered to the right side of the goal, but Pavlenka managed to react in time. The Czech keeper's reflexes were lightning-quick as he shimmyed to his left twice before launching into the air, his left palm clenched in anticipation of the shot's power. The ball stung his glove, but he held out as he redirected the ball outward.

"What a save!" Derek Rae shouted, his commentary tinged with genuine admiration. "Rakim is searching for that goal, but Pavlenka is having none of it!"

"I know I've said it before, Derek, but that young man is special," Robson added as the replay showed the intricate set of footwork in slow motion. "The way he glides past players, it's like watching silk in motion. But credit to Pavlenka - that was keeper's instinct at its finest."

[75']

The near miss seemed to electrify the evening. Bremen pressed forward in a wave of green as the red lions retreated just enough to be able to spring a counter. Vogt slipped defence, splitting through the ball down the channel, and Rashica latched onto it immediately, giving Weiser trouble.

Their duel found them at the side of the box in a matter of moments, and the winger found a gap just big enough to send a low cross into the box. The ball came in hot, skittering low across the six-yard box, bouncing a couple times, causing Selke to mis-time his swing. Hradecky also misjudged his lunge as it slipped towards the back of the box.

Tapsoba pounced on it, holding off Woltemade before shovelling it to safety. The clearance wasn't pretty, but it was perfect: dropping at the centre circle where Demirbay and Eggestein fought for the header. They both met in the air, clashing like rams as the ball hung in the air, then Kerem arched his back and won it, steering a clever header into space rather than straight up.

Bailey sniffed it first, taking it on the half-turn and burning up the right touchline. Friedl followed him step for step, his arm outstretched, doing everything to stop the Jamaican from turning on the afterburners.

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To be Continued...