Chapter 87: FA Cup Final [2]
Chapter 87: FA Cup Final [2]
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Kickoff: Crawley Town Vs Chelsea
The referee blew his whistle at exactly 3:00 p.m. The ball rolled across the pitch under Wembley’s bright floodlights. The stadium erupted with 90,000 fans roaring. Most wore Chelsea blue jersey, chanting loudly, "Chels-ea! Chels-ea!" But in one corner, Crawley’s fans stood strong, shouting back, "Craw-ley! Kings!"
The field was slick with early dew. The air smelled of grass, sweat, and muscle rub from the sidelines. Max, Crawley’s captain, stood in the box, his armband tight on his arm. He thought of the lucky stone taped in his locker and whispered, "For home."
Thiago sprinted to the right wing, his red ribbon shining under the lights. His eyes burned with confidence. Luka took his spot in midfield, focused and ready, watching for any opening.
Niels stood near the sideline, his red wristband sharp against his jacket. He fixed his gaze on the field and said firmly, "They’ll come at us fast. We have to be ready."
Chelsea’s team looked strong and unstoppable Drogba moved like a lion, Lampard controlled the game, Terry stood like a wall in defense, and Čech guarded the goal like a giant. Their fans roared louder still: "Drogba’s king!" And then the ball moved. Wembley exploded. The battle had begun.
Chelsea struck first, their passes quick and precise, cutting through Crawley’s defense like a knife. Lampard sent the ball to Malouda, who raced down the left wing, tearing up the grass. His cross flew in like a whip. Crawley’s fans yelled, "Come on, hold ’em, Craw-ley!" but Chelsea kept coming, their supporters shaking the stadium with chants of "London is blue!"