Chapter 604: Chapter 604 Hunting A Goal
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[04/07/2020 | Time: 20:42 PM | DFB-Pokal Final | Location: Olympiastadion Berlin]
[42]
"There was no debate. He wanted this one; he stepped up the moment it was called." Derek Rae’s voice cracked with trepidation as the referee set the wall distance from the wall. "He had an opportunity in their last match-up in the league, you reckon this one’s personal, Steward?"
"We’ve had the pleasure of watching him play over the year, and it’s safe to say it’s definitely personal. How could it not be?" Robson analysed, pointing out how his missing that free kick that could have saved their Bundesliga hopes might affect his thoughts. "Let’s not forget that he not only has to beat the wall but also one of the best keepers in the world."
Neuer could be seen organising his four-man wall, which consisted of Kimmich, Goretzka, Gnabry, and Coman. Rakim stood over the ball, adjusting it with meticulous care, his eyes fixed on Neuer rather than the white sphere beneath him. The spot was just outside the D, right of centre—the perfect spot for a left-footer to curl one into the top corner.
Taking measured steps backwards, he waited for the referee to complete his final checks. The referee’s whistle pierced the night, and Rakim took his final breath. He watched Neuer’s positioning, who stood centrally with his arms spread in a wide stance, slightly bent to react.
Shortly, he began his run-up, doing a couple of side steps to his right, creating an angle. He planted his right foot with a snap, whipping his left foot around with a crisp thud. His boot wrapped cleanly around the ball, sensing it flying around knee height as the wall jumped into the air.
Neuer, between the sticks, stood rooted as he couldn’t see the ball, only for it to viciously curl past Kimmich on the right side of the wall. Reacting to the sudden ball, he shifted to his right as the low-flying ball curved downward as it neared the goal. Diving full stretch to his right, he threw his entire frame at it, fingertips stretching desperately.
But the ball had been struck with too much spin, dipping late as it bounced just past the six-yard line. It bounced off the turf, springing up to hug the side of the post as it rattled the back of the net before Neuer could get to it.
The net bulged, and for a second, the only audible sound was that of Rakim roaring in celebration as he charged to the corner flag. The noise from the benches followed as the Leverkusen substitutes leapt to their feet in joy. He slid on his knees, slapping the corner flag as he passed it. Havertz was the first to reach him, wrapping an arm around his neck as they fell forward.
"GOAL! He’s done it this time! Rakim Rex bends it beyond Neuer and Leverkusen lead in the cup final!" Derek Rae bellowed, his voice cracking with excitement.
"You can tell he practised that nothing about that hit was an accident. The bend, the dip, the precision—you can’t strike a ball any cleaner than that." Robson responded, sounding equally emphatic about the goal. "Neuer saw it late, but even if he’d seen it early, I’m not sure he’d have got there. Absolutely sensational."
[Bayern Munich 0 – 1 Bayer Leverkusen (Rakim 43’)]
[45+1]
Bayern were stung, and their response was immediate from the restart. Kimmich charged forward, sliding it wide to Davies as their lines advanced with the Canadian thundered forward on the flank. Amiri and Diaby tried to corner him, but he blitzed by the Frenchman as if he wasn’t there. Cutting inside, as he reached the halfway line, he exchanged a quick one-two with Müller. Racing shoulder to shoulder with the German full-back, they sped toward the byline.
Davis attempted a quick stop-and-go, but couldn’t escape Lars. Running out of room, he forced a cross only to have it deflected out for a corner by the German. Kimich curled in the resulting corner high, dropping just around the middle of the box, where only Lewandowski could reach it. He couldn’t bring it down far enough, sending the ball skimming across the roof of the net.
[45+2]
The referee glanced at his watch but allowed Bayern one more wave forward. Alaba carried the ball from deep, striding into midfield with a surge of urgency. He played it square to Goretzka, who tried to bulldoze through Aránguiz but was met with a crunching tackle that sent both men tumbling.
The whistle shrilled again, this time for a Bayern free kick thirty-five yards out, slightly left of centre. "Danger here, Derek," Robson muttered. "It’s too far for a direct strike, but with Lewandowski and Müller lurking, this is exactly the kind of ball that causes chaos."
Kimmich stood over it, hands on his hips, eyes scanning the penalty area. His delivery was whipped in with pace, curling toward the penalty spot. Lewandowski broke free of Tapsoba just enough to rise above the crowd, his header arrowing down toward the near corner.
But Hradecky dropped low, parrying the ball with a strong right arm before Sven Bender hooked it clear on the rebound. The referee blew his whistle for halftime immediately after, the echo rolling around the vast Olympiastadion.
Players didn’t waste much time, trudging toward the tunnel, sweat streaming, lungs heaving. "Half-time in Berlin," Derek Rae announced, his voice swelling with drama. "Bayern Munich stunned, Leverkusen inspired. Rakim Rex, the teenager, has just written his name into the first half of this final with a free-kick that Neuer could do nothing about. At the break, it’s Bayern Munich 0 – 1 Bayer Leverkusen."
Robson added, "It’s been frantic, breathless, and brilliantly contested. Leverkusen have stood toe-to-toe with the champions, and right now, they’ve got their noses in front. But don’t write Bayern off—this is a team that knows how to come back."
~~~
[Leverkusen Locker Room]
"Alright, lads, let me start off by congratulating you on a good first half." His eyes swept the room, briefly glancing at the players, who sat with a towel draped around their necks, their chests still rising and falling hard as they recovered their energy. "You’ve earned the lead—but don’t let up, this game is far from over."
He took a moment to compose himself before continuing. "Now that they are trailing, they’ll come at us harder in the second half. I expect Bayern to raise the tempo, pushing their full-backs higher, and they’ll try to pin us in. So we need discipline, Aránguiz and Jullian, you two need to step up and keep that shape tight in front of the back four. Don’t get dragged too wide, force them central where we can double up."
He turned toward Diaby and Rakim. "Wingers—you’ve been excellent tracking back, but I want more composure when we break. Too often, you’re going up against one or two, or even three players. Use Amiri, use Havertz. Let the ball do the work, not your legs every time."
The physio moved between players, offering water bottles and quick assessments of any knocks picked up during the intense first half. Wendell was having his left ankle checked after a heavy challenge from Gnabry. "My fullbacks, I need you to stop those wingers from cutting in; both of them are dangerous once they get going, so don’t let them."
The coach moved toward the tactical board, his marker squeaking as he drew out positioning diagrams. "Charles, Julian—their midfield will push forward more in the second half. This means more space for you to play through balls into channels. Look for Rakim and Moussa making runs behind their fullbacks."
"Five minutes to compose ourselves," Bosz announced, checking his watch. "Use the bathroom, get fresh shirts if you need them, and remember—we’re not defending a lead for forty-five minutes. We’re hunting for a second goal. The best defence is to score again."
~~~
[Bayern Munich Locker Room]
The atmosphere in Bayern’s dressing room was markedly different from that of their opponents down the hall. Where Leverkusen buzzed with the excitement of leading, Bayern’s room carried heavy silence as Flick talked. "Forty-five minutes," Flick finally spoke, his voice cutting through the oppressive quiet like a blade.
"Forty-five minutes, gentlemen, is all we have to save our cup hopes. Forty-five minutes to prevent this from becoming the backdrop of someone else’s history." He turned to face his squad, his eyes burning with an intensity that made even veterans like Müller straighten in their seats.
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To Be Continued...