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Jens Petter Hauge, who was also reset, with a hopeful gaze as he took a deliberate breath trying to calm himself. Paul Gartner didn’t care about their emotions and simply relished the drama knowing the views for the match’s extended highlight would be immense. "Well, folks, the drama just doesn’t stop here in Gdynia. Jens Petter Hauge gets a second bite at the cherry after a nerve-wracking first attempt. It’s a lifeline for Norway, a moment of immense pressure for both shooter and goalkeeper. Let’s see if Hauge can capitalize this time."
As the crowd’s volume intensified, Hauge placed the ball on the penalty mark, took several deep breaths, and stepped back. Silence fell momentarily as the whistle blew, marking the resumption of this critical juncture. This time, Hauge took a second longer as Luca stood still on the line with his eyes wide like a cat and arms stretched wide, daring the Norwegian captain to shoot.
Hauge steadied himself, his boots lightly grazing the turf as he slowly made his run-up keeping eye contact with Luca in between the sticks. As he closed in on the ball he abruptly looked down as he struck the ball powerfully, aiming to outwit Unbehaun by changing his tactic—this time targeting the top left corner. Unbehaun, primed and focused, launched himself towards the ball, his instincts and reflexes at full display.
In the air, his gaze locked onto the ball bringing a palm to the ball and powerfully smacked it away as he crashed to the ground. "Luca Unbehaun!!!!" Paul Gartner’s excited voice resounded as the German fans jumped to their feet in joy. The play wasn’t over though as the figures of Rakim and Haaland could be seen chasing after the loose ball.
Both of them were fast causing their shoulder to clash for a moment but they both remained standing. Erling came out on top in that clash, but Rakim didn’t fall too far behind as his legs continued to propel him forward. Just as Erling was about to reach the loose ball, he slid forward using his long legs to poke the ball before the striker could touch it.
The ball skittered out of play, and as Rakim stood up quickly, the referee blew the whistle for full-time. The German team erupted in celebration, a mix of relief and jubilation washing over them as they embraced each other on the pitch. The Norwegian players, meanwhile, collapsed in despair, their hopes dashed in the most dramatic fashion.
"And there it is! The final whistle blows and Germany survives a late scare to advance to the quarterfinals. What a match we’ve witnessed here today at Stadion GOSiR!" Paul Gartner commentated his voice faintly echoing over the throng of celebratory German fans.
Coach Baum rushed onto the field to join his players, congratulating them one by one, the smile on his face never leaving his face. He had already achieved more than his predecessors had by making it out of the group stage since the DFB youth teams aren’t known for their strength. So, he treated the rest of the matches without much pressure as he simply wanted his players to give it their best and enjoy the game.
"Good game, your goals were something else," Erling stated with a melancholic smile as he reached out a hand to help Rakim get up from the ground.
"You can’t say that after bulldozing through half our team to score a goal." Rakim retorted with a weird expression not understanding why someone who seems to be made for the sole purpose of scoring goals would complement one of his.
"Didn’t you score from 30 yards out to win the match?" Erling retorted with an incredulous expression. "I did do that, didn’t I? I guess I’m pretty great." Rakim commented with a wide grin seemingly remembering his goal after being reminded.
Erling laughed heartily at Rakim’s response, his demeanour lightening despite the disappointment of the loss. "Yeah, you did. And it was one heck of a shot," he acknowledged, clapping Rakim on the shoulder as they both turned to acknowledge their respective fans who were still lingering in the stands, soaking up the aftermath of the intense match.
"Though you won’t win our next meeting, I’ll make sure to score a few more goals for good measures." He said with a serious gaze as his light-hearted demeanour instantly vanished as if it didn’t exist in the first place. Rakim looking at him also fell silent for a second as his demeanour also turned serious locking gazes with the tall blond.
His green eyes seemed far more dangerous than before as his gait shifted resembling a jungle tiger ready to pounce at any moment. Just as it looked like things were ready to pop off between them a wide smile appeared on Rakim’s face. "Hahaha, Okay, okay, okay, okay, Okay! I will be ready so give it your best shot," Rakim’s words sounded light-hearted, but Haaland was not mistaken that the player in front of him wanted all the smoke and in fact looked forward to the challenge.
Haaland, matching Rakim’s grin with one of his own, nodded appreciatively. "I will, don’t worry. The Bundesliga I will Conquer," he said with a reassuring grin as he took off his top handing it to Rakim. "You’re welcome,"
Rakim accepted it and proceeded to sign the kit before handing it back to Erling with a wide grin as he slung an arm around his neck. "Where did you even get a pen from?" was the only thing Haaland thought to ask as he looked at his own jersey now signed by Rakim.
"I always stay ready for my fans," Rakim replied with a cheeky smile as they walked towards the tunnel. "Sign mine if you manage to beat me,"
Erling laughed, taking the challenge in stride, "Deal but don’t run away when the time comes,"
Rakim merely chuckled at his words not taking them seriously in the least. "Run? From you? Never." With a final pat on Haaland’s back, they separated, each heading to their team’s respective side of the pitch. Both were surprised to find a player in their generation that was just as competitive as the other.
As the players disappeared into the tunnel, the stadium slowly began to empty, fans went out to financially support local watering holes. Still broadcasting live, Paul Gartner summarised their feelings, "What a day for football here in Gdynia. This match was a rollercoaster of emotions, but in the end, Germany advances to the quarterfinals. Norway has shown they are a force to be reckoned with and I am excited over their future. This tournament is far from over, and if today’s game is any indication, we’re in for an exhilarating ride."
~~~
"Jens, do you believe that if Erling had taken the penalty, the match would have gone differently? " a reporter asked the Norwegian captain as he walked past the press area in the tunnel. Already feeling bad about disappointing his team, Jen’s mood dropped further upon hearing this.
That wasn’t the only question thrown his way. Quite a few reporters shot their questions his way, each one more targeted and hurtful. Jens paused; his pride not willing to let him escape from these vultures. Plus, he knew that if he didn’t, they would paint the sky red with his blood tomorrow.
"I think it’s not just about who takes the penalty. It’s about executing at the moment," Jens responded, his voice steady despite the turmoil he felt. "Erling is an incredible player, we all know that, but today, it was on me. I took the responsibility, and unfortunately, it didn’t go our way."
The flurry of questions continued, each reporter seemingly trying to get their punches or sound bite in. "Why would you fight for the right to take the set piece in such a crucial match when your teammate has been firing on all cylinders making him this tournament top scorer by a wide margin?"
Another reporter asked, already imagining the headlines: Norway Captain Chooses Pride over team win. "No comment," Jens retorted. He immediately turned on his heels and left without sparing the disappointed vultures a second glance.
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To be Continued...