Fweeeee!
The referee's whistle cut through the night air at De Grolsch Veste. Sharp and clear
The second half had begun.
Bright floodlights bathed the pitch in white light. The wind stirred in the corners of the stadium, making flags dance and scarves flutter.
Twenty-four thousand fans rose from their seats as one. The buzz of anticipation crackled like electricity.
AZ Alkmaar kicked off.
Altidore tapped the ball sideways to Maher. The young playmaker spun on his heel, his body twisting away from pressure. One touch. Two. Then he slipped the ball wide to Benjamin on the left wing.
Benjamin's first touch was perfect. The ball stuck to his foot like glue. He looked up, saw Rosales charging toward him, and smiled.
One stepover. Two.
Rosales lunged.
Benjamin was already gone.
The crowd gasped as the young winger burst into open space. His legs pumped in rhythm. His boots barely touched the grass. He was flying.
