Chapter 579 Smooth Criminal
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[23/05/2020 | Time: 16:30 pM | Borussia Mönchengladbach 0 and 1 Bayer 04 Leverkusen | Location: BORUSSIA-PARK | Attendance: 0]
[46]
The teams emerged from the tunnel with steam rising from their warm bodies into the cold, damp air. The rain had intensified during the break, turning Borussia-Park into a slick battleground where every touch would be magnified, every mistake punished. Marco Rose had clearly been animated in the dressing room — his players jogged out with renewed purpose as they took their positions.
Peter Bosz, on the other hand, stood motionless in his technical area, hands deep in his coat pockets, watching his players settle into their positions. He had given them instructions on goals he wanted them to meet in the first 10 minutes, and now it was all about trusting them to execute. The referee did a quick check on both sides, prompting handraises from each keeper before blowing his whistle to signal the start of the match.
Stindl rolled the ball back to Neuhaus, who instantly sprayed it forward and wide into Hofmann's run. The winger had clearly been instructed to test Sinkgraven more directly, and he did so with a burst of pace that sent the Dutch full-back scrambling. In such weather, it was often the one without the ball that struggled with finding the timing to make a tackle, and the winger made good use of that.
Baiting him in as they approached the side of the box, he feinted inwards before taking a long touch to slip past the outside. However, his resulting cross was overhit, sailing beyond Thuram and out for a goal kick. "Gladbach showing early intent," Derek Rae observed. "Rose has clearly told them to be more direct."
[52]
The match had settled into a ferocious rhythm as both teams adapted to the increasingly treacherous conditions. Leverkusen in particular had grown comfortable protecting their lead, dropping slightly deeper than in the first half, but their countering threat remained razor-sharp. When Dragović intercepted a loose pass from Strobl, he immediately looked upfield where Rakim was already beginning his run.
The pass was weighted perfectly, skimming across the wet surface like a stone across water. Sadly, it picked up too much speed, missing the winger by mere millimetres. Normally, Rakim would have reached it, but like most players here, he was only moving at around 80% of what he would in dry weather. Suffering an injury was the last thing any of the players wanted, so unless they were sure, none forced things.
[56]
Following a rough tackle outside of their box by Demirbay, who had just mistimed his slide tackle, the home side had a free kick in a favourable area. Hoffman was the one to step up to the plate, setting the ball down just outside the D slightly to the right.
The free-kick routine was clearly something Gladbach had worked on in training. Hofmann stood over the ball, wiping the rain from his forehead, his eyes narrowing as he measured the distance. A cluster of players jostled inside the box, Thuram tangling with Tapsoba while Pléa tried to lose Bender's attention.
The wall ignored Lainer's first dummy run, focusing entirely on Hoffman, who followed after as he struck the ball firmly. They stepped forward on contact, jumping into the air and craning their necks in hopes of deflecting the shot. But it was not meant to be as it curled past Diaby on the right side of the wall, clearing the obstacle.
The strike dropped dangerously, skimming the wet surface, taking an awkward angle just before Hradecky. The goalkeeper dived low, his gloves stretched wide, and for a split second it looked like the ball might squirm under his body. Instead, the Finn somehow managed to adjust mid dive to smothering it with his chest as the rebound fizzed harmlessly away.
"That's not easy at all," Rae remarked, his tone tinged with respect. "A skidding ball in those conditions can make even the best look foolish." Hradecky popped back to his feet, instantly barking at his defenders to push up, his voice echoing across the empty, soaked arena. Meanwhile, Marco Rose clapped his hands furiously from the sideline. His side had begun to lean on Leverkusen's defence, and though the ball hadn't gone in, the pressure was starting to mount.
[61]
That growing intensity nearly broke Leverkusen's defence as mistakes started to appear. A heavy touch from Dragović allowed Neuhaus to steal possession thirty yards from goal, and with a single shimmy, he was driving directly at the heart of the back line. His low pass split Bender and Tapsoba, releasing Thuram into space on the left side of the box.
The Frenchman surged forward, his long strides eating up the wet grass as he squared his shoulders to shoot. At the last possible moment, Tapsoba recovered, launching into a desperate sliding challenge that deflected the shot wide of the near post. The roar from Marco Rose on the sideline was guttural, a mixture of frustration and belief that his side was edging closer to breaking through.
"Gladbach knocking hard on the door!" Rae cried. The corner that followed was whipped in with menace. Hofmann's delivery dipped into the six-yard box where Ginter rose highest, thundering a header downwards but couldn't get it under the bar.
[66]
Sensing the momentum slipping, Peter Bosz made his first changes. With a nod toward his assistant, he beckoned Florian Wirtz and Nadiem Amiri from the bench. He aimed to control the midfield with fresh legs whilst adding a dose of creativity. Rakim, who had just been about to take a quick throw-in, was baffled when his number glowed red, indicating he was coming off.
Double checking he wasn't dreaming he sighed in frustration, letting out a puff of steam as he placed the ball down and jogged across the field to the bench. This was probably the first time in his life where he felt like he was being substituted early, but he could do nothing to change the coach's decision. Elbow tapping Wirtz on his out, he wished him good luck before heading for the bench, barely able to remember what seemed like encouragement from the manager as he walked by.
Kerem Demirbay was the one to make way for Amiri in the midfield, joining Rakim on the bench. At the same time, Marco Rose reacted, unleashing Breel Embolo to replace Lars Stindl in the CAM position, who had been quiet all game, firmly neutralised by Charles Aranguiz. László Bénes slotted into the holding midfield role, relieving the tiered Tobias Strobal.
"What a shift from Rakim, though not as prolific as we have become accustomed to. He has created a fair number of chances for his side," Rae said, his voice full of admiration. "But now it's Wirtz's chance — just seventeen, a couple of months older than his teammate, and just as trusted to deliver in a Rhine derby."
[69]
It was Gladbach who struck first blood in this new phase of the game. From midfield, Neuhaus drove forward with an assertiveness that had been missing earlier. The substitutes had changed the energy completely — Embolo bullied his way into pockets of space, dragging Bender too far forward and creating gaps between the centre-backs. Neuhaus saw it, threading a crisp pass into the channel.
Thuram accelerated, his boots splashing water in arcs as he brushed off Dragović with ease. With one glance at the near post, he lashed a venomous low cross that skimmed past Hradecky's outstretched gloves. Pléa arrived in a blur, sliding across the slick grass to stab the ball into the net before Tapsoba could stretch a leg to block.
The ball struck the back of the goal with a sodden thump, sending spray flying upward. "And there it is!" Derek Rae's voice surged. "Borussia Mönchengladbach are level! Alassane Pléa, with that poacher's instinct, gets them right back in this Rhine derby!"
"It is a thing of beauty to watch a team just feed off each other's movements to create a spectacular goal," Obson added with excitement. "As for the visiting side, there is only one word for why they conceded: 'lazy' They were only winning by one goal and dared to play relaxed, arriving second to every challenge."
His sharp critique roused some resentment in the Leverkusen fans who were watching from home, but Rose on the field couldn't care less. His substitutes were already paying dividends, and his only focus was to maximise their effectiveness. In the adjacent visiting team technical area, Bosz's forehead wrinkled in a frown, his lips muttering something sharp under the pouring rain. The game was alive again, and Gladbach's spirit was roaring louder than the storm.
**Gladbach 1–1 Leverkusen | Pléa 69'**
[72]
If Gladbach thought the equaliser would deflate Leverkusen, they were mistaken. The visitors responded instantly, fueled by the sting of conceding. Amiri got to work in midfield, making good use of his fresh legs following the restart.
His high energy compelled his teammates to match his pace, as he began to dictate the midfield's flow. Wirtz, to get on the ball, drifted wide, opening up a passing option for Amiri, who had just scrambled past two defenders. Not holding onto the ball and attempting more than he could handle, he sent the ball out wide into the winger's feet.
Wirtz, who had his body turned inward with his back to the line, deftly received the ball with his first touch immaculate. Seeing Neuhaus, who had been zonal marking, now close in, with a sharp twist of his hips, he faked a cut inwards, getting the midfielder to bite. In the last moment, he powerfully poked the ball through his legs and escaped on the outside to chase after it.
He drove forward his metal studs, digging into the wet grass as he picked up speed, trying to beat both Bendebaini and Elvedi to the rolling ball. "Oh, this could get tight, can he reach there first... Oh, what audacity, and he's through." Derek Rae exclaimed as it looked like Wirtz suddenly glitched past both players, completely skipping by them.
In reality, he had managed to reach the ball a fraction earlier and immediately knelt the ball to his left foot with his right. Not slowing down in the slightest, he followed the ball, side-stepping the charging left-back before knocking the ball back to his right foot to avoid the centre-back as well. "Oh, he's through on goal and Sommer is not expecting him to beat his defenders so easily. He's late to react. Can he go all the way?"
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To Be Continued...