Chapter 35: Pulse of the game
When the ball hit the net, Amani didn’t celebrate.
He stood there as he analyzed.
As Utrecht’s striker sprinted away to the corner flag, fists pumping, and as his teammates swarmed him in celebration, Amani’s eyes weren’t on the goal scorer.
They were elsewhere.
His head turned instinctively, scanning the field. His mind moved faster than his body, not the euphoria of the moment but the consequences the shift, the cracks forming.
And there it was.
Ajax was rattled.
For the first time in this match, their movements weren’t as sharp. Their shape, so disciplined before, now had gaps tiny ones, barely visible, but enough.
Amani’s gaze locked onto Sofyan Amrabat first.
The anchor. The wall. The backbone.
Amrabat wasn’t celebrating with rest of his teammates. Instead, he retreated and stood tall in the center of the pitch, scanning the field like a general preparing for the next battle. He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders, nodding to himself.