Saturday, August 31st, 2022

Gewiss Stadium, Bergamo

Second Half – 46th Minute

TWEEEEEEEEET.

The whistle's echo still hung in the air as Højlund touched the ball back to Demien at the center circle.

One touch square to Koopmeiners.

Koopmeiners turned, found De Roon.

De Roon to Tolói.

Tolói diagonal to Maehle on the left.

Five passes in eight seconds, patient and controlled, and Højlund had already sprinted into position between Lecce's center-backs while the yellow shirts scrambled to reorganize their defensive shape.

But something felt different now.

The pitch looked wider, gaps appearing between Lecce's midfield line that hadn't been there in the first half, and when Demien dropped to receive De Roon's pass near the halfway line, Hjulmand was three yards away instead of right on his back, the Dane's legs heavy with fatigue.

Demien's first touch came on the half-turn, his body already angled toward Lecce's goal, and he played it forward to Malinovskyi without hesitation, the rhythm building.

46'–55' –

Forty-sixth minute: Blin cleared desperately from inside his own box, the ball looping high toward the halfway line, and Demien was already moving before it landed, his run timed perfectly as he arrived half a second before Hjulmand.

The ball bounced once.

Demien's chest it down.

Hjulmand's shoulder arrived late, glancing off Demien's back as he spun away smoothly, and the Danish midfielder stumbled while Demien accelerated into space with the ball at his feet, playing it wide to Hateboer who overlapped down the right.

Fourty-eight minute: Koopmeiners played it short to Demien on the edge of the center circle, and Blin lunged in desperately, his timing poor, his legs protesting the fiftieth sprint of the match.

Demien stood tall.

The contact came against his hip but his right foot kept the ball glued to the turf, his body absorbing the challenge without losing balance, and Blin bounced off and sprawled while Demien pivoted and played it back to Tolói, recycling possession instantly.

"Ale' Atalanta ale'!" the Curva Nord chanted, the rhythm established now, drums thundering beneath the voices as possession climbed past seventy-five percent and Lecce's defensive shape sagged deeper and deeper, Baschirotto abandoning his pressing position to protect the backline while his teammates chased shadows.

50th Minute –

Atalanta built patiently down the right flank, the ball moving through six passes in fifteen seconds as De Roon found Koopmeiners who played it wide to Hateboer, and the Dutch wing-back overlapped Malinovskyi with pace that pushed Gallo deeper, forcing Lecce's left-back to retreat toward his own box.

Hateboer's cross came low and hard, pulled back toward the edge of the penalty area where Demien had drifted into space between Lecce's midfield and defensive lines, and he controlled it with his right foot as Blin recognized the danger too late.

The Lecce midfielder's legs were heavy now, fifty minutes of pressing and chasing taking their toll, and when he lunged in desperately, his timing was off by half a second, his body committed forward while Demien's shoulder rolled smoothly, the ball protected on his left side as he drove past Blin in one fluid motion.

The space opened ahead, five yards of grass before Baschirotto could close, and Demien squeezed the ball wide with the outside of his right boot toward Lookman who had made a diagonal run into the channel.

The winger's first touch was heavy, the ball bouncing away from him under pressure from Gendrey, and it rolled out for a corner as the crowd groaned, the chance gone but the momentum building with each attacking sequence.

52nd Minute –

Demien stood over the corner flag on the right side, his right foot on the ball as he scanned the box where bodies jostled for position, Højlund battling Baschirotto at the near post while Tolói challenged Hjulmand at the far stick, and Lecce's goalkeeper Falcone bounced on his line, calling instructions to his defenders.

The delivery had to be flat and fast, whipped to the near post where Højlund's timing was best, and Demien's run-up came short and sharp, three steps before his right foot swept through the ball with controlled power.

The cross arrowed in flat and vicious, bending inward toward the six-yard box, and Højlund timed his leap perfectly, his run starting from deep as he attacked the space between Baschirotto and the front post.

The Danish striker rose above the Lecce defender, his neck muscles coiling as he met the ball with his forehead, and the header came down hard and fast, hammered into the turf before bouncing past Falcone's despairing dive into the bottom right corner.

2-1.

The flight was perfect, Demien watched it unfold from the corner flag, watched Højlund hang in the air for what felt like three seconds, watched the connection come clean and powerful, watched Falcone's body twist but move the wrong direction, and watched the lead return to Atalanta with thirty-eight minutes still to play.

「Assist #2 registered | Mission progress: 2/2 involvements」

The system chimed once, cold and clinical, and vanished immediately.

"CORNER! Højlund up for it..." Caressa's voice climbed. "WHAT A HEADER! Atalanta take the lead at home, and Walter's delivery was pinpoint—flat, fast, right where the striker wanted it! The Gewiss is alive again, two-one to La Dea!"

"Perfetto!" the co-commentator shouted. "Look at the timing, look at the run—Højlund knew exactly where that ball would be, and Walter put it on his forehead like a gift! This is football, this is what we want to see!"

The Curva Nord ignited completely, the full bounce starting as thousands of bodies jumped in unison, and the chant rose coordinated and thunderous, spreading from the north stand to the entire stadium within seconds:

"A-TA-LAN-TA! OLÉ-OLÉ-OLÉ-OLÉ!"

The rhythm established itself, drums thundering beneath the voices, scarves raised overhead in waves of black and blue that rippled across the stands, and the roof rattled with the vibration as nineteen thousand people celebrated the go-ahead goal with unified purpose.

56'–65' –

Gasperini raised a fist from the touchline as play resumed, and his instruction was clear without words: press line up five yards, squeeze them higher, don't let them breathe.

Demien stepped higher into midfield, his positioning shifting from deep-lying playmaker to aggressive ball-winner, and every loose ball in the center of the pitch seemed magnetized to his position as Lecce's structure began to disintegrate under the relentless pressure.

Fifty-sixth minute: Demien collected sideways from De Roon near the halfway line, and without looking he whipped a forty-yard diagonal over Blin's head, the ball spinning perfectly as it dropped into the left channel where Lookman had timed his run to perfection.

The English winger controlled it on his head, drove toward goal with Gendrey scrambling to recover, and unleashed a shot from eighteen yards that deflected off Baschirotto's outstretched leg and spun wide for a corner.

The crowd roared anyway, the sustained pressure building anticipation with each chance created.

Fifty-ninth minute: Lecce tried to play out from the back, Falcone rolling it short to Gallo who turned under pressure from Malinovskyi, and the left-back's pass toward Blin was weak and telegraphed.

Lookman read it instantly, pressing like a demon with his legs pumping, and he picked Gallo's pocket clean twenty-five yards from goal, the ball breaking loose as the defender stumbled off balance.

Lookman squared it immediately to Demien's feet.

60th Minute –

The ball arrived at Demien's position twenty-five yards from goal, slightly right of center, and his first touch set it dead under his laces as Blin and Hjulmand both recognized the danger and charged forward to close him down.

But they were too late.

Demien's second touch came with his right foot swinging through the ball with perfect technique, his body shape angled to generate curve, and the Epic Curve Run Timing trait activated instinctively as the shot bent viciously from right to left through the air.

The ball flew like a missile, spinning with violent curve that made it dip and swerve, and Falcone dove desperately to his right as the trajectory became clear, his fingertips reaching but finding only air.

The ball smashed into the underside of the crossbar with a metallic CLANG that echoed across the stadium, and for one frozen moment nineteen thousand people held their breath as physics decided whether it would bounce out or down.

Down.

The ball hit the turf a millimeter over the goal line before Falcone could react, and the net bulged as it spun backward into the goal, and the Gewiss Stadium exploded for the second time in eight minutes.

3-1.

Gallo beaten high up the pitch, ball sitting sweet at his feet, swing through it clean and true, bar rattles like thunder, down over the line, in, and the Gewiss shakes with the roar that follows because this wasn't just a goal, this was domination made manifest.

「Goal #1 registered」

「200 TP | 100 MP secured」

「MISSION: OWN THE HOUSE – PARTIALLY CLEARED (Involvements complete)」

The system delivered its verdict in three lines and disappeared.

"LOOKMAN STEALS IT HIGH!" Caressa's voice cracked with excitement. "Walter with space... curls it! BAR... OVER THE LINE! What a strike—Atalanta running riot now, three-one and the home fans are in absolute dreamland! Look at that technique, look at the curl on it, Falcone had no chance whatsoever!"

"INCREDIBILE!" the co-commentator screamed. "Twenty-five meters, bending like a banana, hits the bar and down over the line—that's world-class finishing! This kid is eighteen years old and he's destroying Serie A opposition like they're children! The curve on that shot, Fabio, you don't teach that, that's pure natural ability!"

The Gewiss finally snapped completely, the restraint from the first hour abandoned as the full-throated celebration erupted from every section of the stadium, and the wave started from the Curva Nord before spreading to the corners and opposite end:

"OLÉ-OLÉ-OLÉ-OL�É! OLÉ-OLÉ-OLÉ-OLÉ!"

The drums thundered non-stop now, no breaks between rhythms, just sustained percussion that drove the chant forward like a heartbeat, and the noise became a physical force that pressed against eardrums and vibrated through concrete as Lecce's players looked at each other with expressions that said they knew the match was over.

Demien jogged back to position with his teammates chasing him down to celebrate, but he waved them off calmly, just pointing to the Curva Nord with both hands before tapping the badge twice over his heart, the gesture simple and clear: This is for you.

Thirty minutes remained, and the mission objectives were only partially complete because while the involvements were done, the duels and passing accuracy still needed work, but the hardest part was finished and Atalanta led by two goals at home with Lecce's defensive structure completely collapsed under pressure.

Keep going. Finish them.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.