Chapter 280 - Champions II
A pang of happiness streaked through Coach Johansen after he watched Zachary convert the free-kick to put Rosenborg in an almost unassailable position. The score was then three to one in favor of his side, and he was about to win his second trophy of the season.
His players had outdone themselves in the Norwegian Cup final. They'd played like champions on all fronts, whether in defense, midfield, or on the attack. The flanks, the crossing, and the goal attempts were all fierce, constantly causing their opponents plenty of problems. The only blemish on their performance was that one time they'd relaxed and allowed Molde to score during the first half.
"Coach," the voice of Dr. Eivind Pedersen, the Rosenborg medic, sounded from beside him, breaking his moment of reverie.
"Yes, Dr. Pedersen," Coach Johansen said, creasing his brows. "How is Nicki faring? Is his injury serious?"
"Well," Dr. Pedersen replied with a steady voice. "From my initial examination, I can only conclude that it's only a bruise on his shin. The impact from the opponent's boot must have damaged some tissue, leading to a minor injury."
Coach Johansen couldn't help but frown. Nicki Nielsen was his star striker, and he didn't want to lose such a sharp player when he was about to face Standard Liège in the Europa League in a few days. "Is he still fit to continue the match?"
"With a bit of first aid, he sure can continue playing," the medic replied. "But my recommendation is that we take him out immediately to be on the safe side. But, it's your call, coach."
"Then, we'll follow your recommendation and let him rest for the remainder of the match," Coach Johansen said before turning towards his assistant. "Trond! Go ahead and inform André to start warming up. I want him on the pitch in less than five minutes."
"Aye, coach," Trond Henriksen, the assistant, replied.
**** ****
Zachary was in high spirits as the game approached the final stages of the second half. He didn't relax in the slightest even though his team was leading by three goals to one. He continued doing his best to help his team overpower Molde's defense by playing his part as an attacking midfielder to the best of his ability.
Whenever he would spot a gap in Molde's defense, he would either unleash a defense-splitting pass behind the backline or run at the defenders. His S-graded stamina and endurance attributes allowed him to continue putting up mind-blowing displays even as the match approached the 85th minute.
"Forwards!" Zachary heard the voice of Coach Johansen booming from the sidelines, just as the Molde players were starting to hoard possession by playing short aimless passes in the backline. "Push forward and try to exert more pressure on their defense. Let's utilize some high pressing to win back possession quickly. We need to score another goal before the final whistle." The coach punctuated his words with thunderous clapping of his hands to motivate the players.
Zachary reacted immediately on hearing Coach Johansen's instructions. He rushed forward like a whirlwind, eyeing Vegard Forren, the Molde center-back, who'd just received the ball in Molde's backline. However, the defender reacted promptly and passed the ball towards the left-flank before Zachary could approach his position.
Nevertheless, Zachary didn't give up. He continued chasing the ball's trail towards the left flank like a bullet out of a muzzle.
He understood that he had to do most of the high pressing since Nicki Nielsen, the starting center-forward, was already out of the game due to an injury. So, he raced even more energetically than usual towards Knut Olav Rindaröy, Molde's left-back, who was about to receive the ball.
It was as if the lucky stars of Rosenborg were perfectly aligned that day. Just as Zachary was about to give up his chase, he noticed that the defender had taken a poor and slightly heavier first touch on the incoming ball. As a result, it'd rolled a yard or two behind, causing the defender to panic.
"Chance!"
Zachary exploded forward like a bullet train. He could feel the breeze whipping across his face as his long strides consumed yards of space like there was no tomorrow. Before the defender could rectify his mistake and retrieve the ball from behind him, Zachary was already sliding in, boot skimming the green like a slippery snake in the grass. It was a well-timed tackle — one which the left-back could not avoid at that moment.
"REF!!!"
The defender could only shout out in distress as he tumbled to the ground after Zachary's outstretched boot had magically retrieved the ball.
However, Zachary didn't give a damn about the yelling defender. He was sure he hadn't committed a foul since he'd gotten the ball before sending the left-back to the ground. Thence, there was no reason for the referee or the nearby linesman to penalize him.
With the agility of a wild cat, he picked himself from the ground, not taking a second glance at the defender. He took off like a bat out of hell for Molde's goal before the other defenders could react to the situation.
Vegard Forren, one of the Molde center-backs, soon came to close him down, all guns blazing like a raging bull. However, Zachary didn't lose his composure in the slightest. He just slowed down slightly, stepped on the ball and spun 180 degrees around the defender to complete his second Marseille turn of the match. He then pulled the ball with him as he whirled away from the defender's reach.
A second later, he could hear the cheers around the stadium hitting a thunderous crescendo as he completed the turn and faced the approaching goalkeeper. It was the moment of truth, and as usual, he didn't lose his cool.
He simply looped the ball over the keeper with an elusive chip, sending it just inside the far post. With that, he'd managed to score Rosenborg's 4th goal and bagged yet another hat-trick in his professional career. He raced like mad towards the corner flag to celebrate the goal with his teammates.
-----
The match ended shortly after, with Rosenborg still leading 4:1 against Molde. In a matter of minutes, the officials started setting up a podium in preparation for the trophy ceremony while the Rosenborg players and coaching staff moved around the edges of the field to thank the fans. In the meantime, reporters were all over the place, their cameras flashing as they interviewed players. The whole field of play was a hubbub of activity in the minutes after the final whistle.
Zachary watched the chaos while taking a brief moment of rest in the center circle after escaping some particularly persistent reporters. Everything felt surreal.
In his first season of professional football, he'd played a crucial role in helping his team win the domestic double. He'd also become the top scorer of two of the most prestigious tournaments in Norway. It was a dream come true as far as he was concerned.
**** ****
His players had outdone themselves in the Norwegian Cup final. They'd played like champions on all fronts, whether in defense, midfield, or on the attack. The flanks, the crossing, and the goal attempts were all fierce, constantly causing their opponents plenty of problems. The only blemish on their performance was that one time they'd relaxed and allowed Molde to score during the first half.
"Coach," the voice of Dr. Eivind Pedersen, the Rosenborg medic, sounded from beside him, breaking his moment of reverie.
"Yes, Dr. Pedersen," Coach Johansen said, creasing his brows. "How is Nicki faring? Is his injury serious?"
"Well," Dr. Pedersen replied with a steady voice. "From my initial examination, I can only conclude that it's only a bruise on his shin. The impact from the opponent's boot must have damaged some tissue, leading to a minor injury."
Coach Johansen couldn't help but frown. Nicki Nielsen was his star striker, and he didn't want to lose such a sharp player when he was about to face Standard Liège in the Europa League in a few days. "Is he still fit to continue the match?"
"With a bit of first aid, he sure can continue playing," the medic replied. "But my recommendation is that we take him out immediately to be on the safe side. But, it's your call, coach."
"Then, we'll follow your recommendation and let him rest for the remainder of the match," Coach Johansen said before turning towards his assistant. "Trond! Go ahead and inform André to start warming up. I want him on the pitch in less than five minutes."
"Aye, coach," Trond Henriksen, the assistant, replied.
**** ****
Zachary was in high spirits as the game approached the final stages of the second half. He didn't relax in the slightest even though his team was leading by three goals to one. He continued doing his best to help his team overpower Molde's defense by playing his part as an attacking midfielder to the best of his ability.
Whenever he would spot a gap in Molde's defense, he would either unleash a defense-splitting pass behind the backline or run at the defenders. His S-graded stamina and endurance attributes allowed him to continue putting up mind-blowing displays even as the match approached the 85th minute.
"Forwards!" Zachary heard the voice of Coach Johansen booming from the sidelines, just as the Molde players were starting to hoard possession by playing short aimless passes in the backline. "Push forward and try to exert more pressure on their defense. Let's utilize some high pressing to win back possession quickly. We need to score another goal before the final whistle." The coach punctuated his words with thunderous clapping of his hands to motivate the players.
Zachary reacted immediately on hearing Coach Johansen's instructions. He rushed forward like a whirlwind, eyeing Vegard Forren, the Molde center-back, who'd just received the ball in Molde's backline. However, the defender reacted promptly and passed the ball towards the left-flank before Zachary could approach his position.
Nevertheless, Zachary didn't give up. He continued chasing the ball's trail towards the left flank like a bullet out of a muzzle.
He understood that he had to do most of the high pressing since Nicki Nielsen, the starting center-forward, was already out of the game due to an injury. So, he raced even more energetically than usual towards Knut Olav Rindaröy, Molde's left-back, who was about to receive the ball.
It was as if the lucky stars of Rosenborg were perfectly aligned that day. Just as Zachary was about to give up his chase, he noticed that the defender had taken a poor and slightly heavier first touch on the incoming ball. As a result, it'd rolled a yard or two behind, causing the defender to panic.
"Chance!"
Zachary exploded forward like a bullet train. He could feel the breeze whipping across his face as his long strides consumed yards of space like there was no tomorrow. Before the defender could rectify his mistake and retrieve the ball from behind him, Zachary was already sliding in, boot skimming the green like a slippery snake in the grass. It was a well-timed tackle — one which the left-back could not avoid at that moment.
"REF!!!"
The defender could only shout out in distress as he tumbled to the ground after Zachary's outstretched boot had magically retrieved the ball.
However, Zachary didn't give a damn about the yelling defender. He was sure he hadn't committed a foul since he'd gotten the ball before sending the left-back to the ground. Thence, there was no reason for the referee or the nearby linesman to penalize him.
With the agility of a wild cat, he picked himself from the ground, not taking a second glance at the defender. He took off like a bat out of hell for Molde's goal before the other defenders could react to the situation.
Vegard Forren, one of the Molde center-backs, soon came to close him down, all guns blazing like a raging bull. However, Zachary didn't lose his composure in the slightest. He just slowed down slightly, stepped on the ball and spun 180 degrees around the defender to complete his second Marseille turn of the match. He then pulled the ball with him as he whirled away from the defender's reach.
A second later, he could hear the cheers around the stadium hitting a thunderous crescendo as he completed the turn and faced the approaching goalkeeper. It was the moment of truth, and as usual, he didn't lose his cool.
He simply looped the ball over the keeper with an elusive chip, sending it just inside the far post. With that, he'd managed to score Rosenborg's 4th goal and bagged yet another hat-trick in his professional career. He raced like mad towards the corner flag to celebrate the goal with his teammates.
-----
The match ended shortly after, with Rosenborg still leading 4:1 against Molde. In a matter of minutes, the officials started setting up a podium in preparation for the trophy ceremony while the Rosenborg players and coaching staff moved around the edges of the field to thank the fans. In the meantime, reporters were all over the place, their cameras flashing as they interviewed players. The whole field of play was a hubbub of activity in the minutes after the final whistle.
Zachary watched the chaos while taking a brief moment of rest in the center circle after escaping some particularly persistent reporters. Everything felt surreal.
In his first season of professional football, he'd played a crucial role in helping his team win the domestic double. He'd also become the top scorer of two of the most prestigious tournaments in Norway. It was a dream come true as far as he was concerned.
**** ****
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