Previously
Night-time in Rumiatzi. In the centre-east of the city, the great oval of Grand Duke’s Stadium shone brightly into the sky. Within its walls it concentrated the attention of millions and thundered with the noise of dozens of thousands: the unmistakeable ambience of a World Cup qualifying match.
Down in that pit was Aire Epherra, on the prowl. He’d already put Astograth 1-0 up, barging his way past Kenneth Workins to receive Duarte’s through ball and blast a shot across Gopnikea’s goal. That had made it 5 caps and 3 goals, baby. Easy. Kick ball go in net. And Vaudrail thought it was necessary that he and Duarte practice passing so much, ha.
Although his agent and everyone on TV and everyone on social media and his mum all said 4 caps and 2 goals were good numbers, and 5 caps and 3 goals were also good numbers, this was a great opportunity to make it 5 caps and 4 goals, a slightly better number. There wasn’t that much time left to do it, either – 20 minutes or so. Or maybe 15 or less than 10, he’d never been good at tracking time and he couldn’t find any clock in Grand Duke’s. What was he going to do, ask someone? That was for chumps.
These doubts did lead Epherra to look at the Astograthian bench, where Olentzaro Karazatorre was talking with assistant manager Ibai Kiriano, looking at a clipboard. Another striker? Arana had already come on for Malkorra on the right wing, to act as inside forward and give that flank more bite. Vaudrail had made it patently clear he wanted goals tonight. But Arana was a completely different kind of player to Epherra, the hulking target man, and Karazatorre was a whole lot more similar. Extremely similar, in fact, except a bit shorter and a bit faster but, more importantly, Karazatorre was bad, with bad numbers. This would be, what? His 6th cap? And no goals to show for those six matches. Was Vaudrail really going to take off Epherra for this kid? He’d done it once before already, late in the match against Siovanija and Teusland, losing 1-2. Epherra had collided with the goalpost trying to head in a tight ball and insisted he could continue, but was overruled by the medical team. There was no injury now, so what was the excuse? If they actually went through with this he’d be livid.
Anyway, focus. Epherra licked his lips and glanced around. Workins was his marker, and was wise to keep a cautious distance. The other centre-back, Willis, stayed further back as last man, and the full-backs stayed roughly level, moving up and dropping back as required. Down the pitch, Olibondeka were passing the ball around in their half, luring Gopnikea to the left before Ibargengoitia played a long ball to the right in an attempt to switch flanks. It overshot Arana and went out for a throw-in. The ball bounced directly into the path of Karazatorre, who flicked it away and stood beside the fourth referee as she lifted the electronic board. Epherra was already scowling and wondering how he could drag this out as much as possible when he noticed the red number was not 9, but 6. Had they held the board upside down? Apparently not, because nobody on the bench batted an eye as defensive midfielder Gaitzka Gurina shook the striker’s hand and stepped off the pitch. Karazatorre’s green number 20 would probably have been upside down too, on second thought.
So they’d be playing together for the second time, Epherra and Karazatorre. The first time had barely counted; it had been something of a desperation play to bring on Karazatorre for right-back Echeberz in the final few minutes of the draw against Omerica. Two nominal centre-forwards. As his younger partner approached, under the polite applause of the fans, Epherra spared him a professional greeting: grunt and an up-nod. The kid kept coming closer.
“We’re switching to 4-”
“3-1-2, I know,” snapped Epherra. Of course he knew, he wasn’t dumb. He’d trained and done Vaudrail’s weird study sessions, same as everyone else. He could tell what the plan was: leave Lekea as central ball-winner, pull the wingers back and toward the centre so they can build out from there; keep Sorrosua, who’d come on for Duarte, as the attacking playmaker, and then the two strikers. A somewhat more attacking 4-4-2 diamond. It was an unusual formation for Vaudrail, but a classic Wanderers lineup during Tzemeno Baxterrika’s tenure. Epherra had also played it extensively at Sporting Arkamo, under Iban Bachiondo and Machin Logegaray.
You see, Aire Epherra was a veteran of the Astograthian First Division. At home he had gold medals, replica trophies, dozens of individual awards, the shirts he’d traded with everyone who was anyone in the league. And then there was this kid Karazatorre, overhyped to Falconfar and back, with no trophies to speak of and precisely one season played at a decent club. Zakina… and the boy didn’t even react to getting cut off like that. No personality, no fight in him, always backing down. He’d never make it like that. Epherra gave him two years to be out of the national team and back at small-time Antiguoko FC.
The forwards separated, and Epherra noted how the defenders split to mark them. Karazatorre had gotten the faster marker, so the Sepulcrisians weren’t completely clueless. They might’ve even studied the opposition (them). The throw-in from which Astograth had introduced its substitution had led to an attack down the left and a cross, confidently cut off by the hands of Gentza Bedigax. On the counter-attack, Olibondeka sprung into action. Alarabi Labeaga received the ball from the goalkeeper and passed to left-back Marko Martel, who strode forward into the empty space ahead. When Jake Treyhon approached to cut him off, Martel played the pass to Ibargengoitia, slipped past Treyhon, and got the ball back to continue down the left flank. When it came right-back Harro Garfield’s turn to close down on Martel, he passed to Gero Sorrosua, who’d slipped between the lines of Gopnikea.
Epherra was the closest to Sorrosua. He’d spent the last moments moving around to threaten runs through the gaps of the defence and keep his marker Workins on his toes. Now Sorrosua had the opportunity to play the same ball Duarte had earlier in the match, right between the centre-backs and into the box for Epherra to bang in with his first touch. Epherra even pointed where to play it. So easy. Kick ball go in net.
Instead, Sorrosua hit the ball up and over, curling right and falling directly into the path of Olentzaro Karazatorre, nearly at the end line and chased closely by Arison Willis. He stopped it with his chest, and a sprinting Willis went straight past when the striker changed his own momentum and that of the ball, angling left to widen his angle on the goal. By then, Epherra had made his run into the box anyway, and now found himself on the penalty spot. If he could get the ball, it was a tap-in.
“YOU HAVE NO ANGLE WHATSOEVER, PASS ME THE BALL! I’M CLEAR!” is what he wanted to scream at Karazatorre, but it came out more like “HEY!”. His teammate didn’t even look at him.
With goalkeeper Mercary Garrison tightly covering the angle, and especially the near post, Karazatorre unleashed a shot with the outside of his right foot, the ball swerving right at the last moment to go into the net at the far post.
Astograth’s newest goalscorer ran to the corner flag to celebrate, and was mobbed by his midfield. Epherra jogged behind, keeping his distance. Karazatorre made sure not to let his arms down until he’d turned away from the fans and looked his rival straight in the eyes.
6 caps and 1 goal, thought Epherra. OK, the kid might make it.
