Chapter 63: Vs AC Milan (4)
The second half began like an explosion after a long, burning fuse. No more chess. No more waiting. Both teams charged out of the dressing rooms with fire in their legs and something close to fury in their hearts. Whatever had been said during halftime, on both ends, it had worked. The match transformed, right in front of everyone.
Gone was the tactical caution of the first half. Now, this was open war. A wide-pitch brawl, a game no longer about containment but domination. Milan came out pressing hard, showing their teeth again, but Lecce didn’t shrink from the challenge. They met it with steel in their bones and energy in their boots.
It was Lecce who landed the first punch of the second half. It happened at 47 minutes. Luca Ferretti, planted right in the middle of the chaos, made a sharp interception near the center circle. One touch took him into space, and his second was a slick pass to the left for Banda. The Zambian winger didn’t hesitate, he sized up Theo Hernández, beat him with a tight drop of the shoulder, then tore past him with a burst of pace.
Banda reached the edge of the box and whipped in a low, fizzing cross across goal. Krstović was waiting. He met it first time, his volley angled toward the far bottom corner. It was hit with venom, and for a moment, it looked like the net would ripple.
But Sommer reacted like lightning, springing to his right, arm fully extended. The ball clipped his glove and curled just wide. A huge save. Banda chased down the rebound, refusing to give up, but Milan’s defenders threw their bodies in the way like men defending a fortress.
For the first time since the half had begun, the entire San Siro stirred. The tension broke into a wave of murmurs, a ripple of genuine appreciation.
["That is absolutely stunning from Sommer!" the commentator gasped, practically shouting over the crowd. "Krstović thought he had buried it, Banda thought he had the rebound, but no! Milan survive by a fraction, a hair, a miracle!"]
Lecce didn’t let up. Not even for a breath. Less than sixty seconds later, they came again, with even more venom. Dorgu, who had shifted wider now, picked up a quick switch pass on the left. His first touch launched a high arcing ball over the top. Banda, lurking between the lines, made a sudden dash behind the defense and took it down beautifully.
He barely needed two touches. With the third, he fired a low shot toward the near post, hard and accurate.
Sommer, who had been scrambling back, dropped low with expert timing and managed to save it with the inside of his boot, sending it spiraling out for a corner.
["Unbelievable pressure!" the commentator cried, voice cracking with emotion. "Milan are under siege now, completely overwhelmed! Lecce are not just fighting, they’re storming the gates!"]