THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME

*FWEEEEEEE*

The referee blew the whistle at 9:05 PM, signaling the start of the long-awaited Europa League match between Red Bull Salzburg and Rosenborg Ballklub. The atmosphere grew more tumultuous and turbulent as all the players on the field turned their sights towards the ball on the center spot. At the same time, cheers rose to a crescendo, drowning out every sound in the entire Red Bull Arena. Tensions were high in the few seconds after the sound of the whistle.

Nicki Nielsen, Rosenborg's center forward, didn't dilly-dally after hearing the kick-off whistle. He cast a fleeting glance across the opposite side of the playing field, seemingly to assess or maybe taunt the opposition before the commencement of the actual action. Without turning around, he raised his leg and then kicked the ball back towards his midfield with a back heel.

"Show off!" Zachary inwardly scoffed at his teammate before turning 180 degrees to follow the movement of the ball. He started running into space as he watched Mike Jensen, one of the holding midfielders in Rosenborg's 4-2-3-1 formation, receive Nicki's pass close to the border of the defensive third.

Without losing a moment, Mike flicked the ball to Thomas Partey, his counterpart in defensive midfield. By then, the Red Bull Salzburg forwards had already rushed into Rosenborg's half, pressing the Ghanaian midfielder and leaving him without enough time to settle down with the ball. They were like a pair of raging wild bulls rushing forward and trying to win possession for the Austrian team as quickly as possible.

"Thomas!" Zachary hollered out loud when he noticed the two opponents bearing down on his teammate like mad. "Play safe! Hit a long one to Nicki." He added as he turned and rushed towards the other side of the pitch.

Thomas Partey, the young midfielder destined for great things, didn't disappoint in the slightest. With a skillful couple of touches, he stepped away from Alan, one of Red Bull Salzburg's two forwards. And without losing his composure, he unleashed a long-range pass to the other side of the field.

Nicki Nielsen reacted immediately on seeing the ball approaching his path. He rushed away from his marker like the wind and jumped high to receive the ball amidst a distinct wave of boos from the home fans.

However, Martin Hinteregger, one of Red Bull Salzburg's center-backs, stuck to him like super glue. The defender didn't allow him an inch of space. He held tightly onto his shirt as the two of them battled for aerial superiority.

It was the first clear brush between the two teams — a spectacle that excited most fans in the stands. The cheers and chants rose to a higher level, seemingly to welcome the upcoming battle between attacker and defender. Eventually, it was Martin Hinteregger, the no-nonsense center-back, who won the battle of wits. He out-maneuvered Nicki-Nielsen mid-air and headed the ball towards Stefan Ilsanker, one of the Red Bull Salzburg midfielders. In that way, he'd managed to diffuse the danger.

The first battle between the two teams seemed to have ended in favor of the Austrian team from Salzburg. The cheers of Red Bull Salzburg's fans hit yet another momentous crescendo as they chanted "Martin Hinteregger" at the top of their voices like mad. Their passion when supporting even a simple defensive play was something that Zachary had never experienced in both his lives. It was only the second minute of gameplay — yet the tensions were already running high on the pitch because of the fans.

*FWEEEEEEE*

It was at that instant that the referee's whistle sounded. The whistle was like a manifestation of a musical note from hell itself, bringing about the descent of a momentous silence all over the Red Bull Arena.

"Free kick!" Zachary heard the referee intone in an indifferent voice as he neared the spot where Martin Hinteregger had taken on Nicki Nielsen only a few seconds ago.

"You pulled Nicki's shirt and prevented him from jumping up to compete fairly for the ball," the referee added, shooing away Martin Hinteregger, who was already in his face. "That was a clear foul. So, please stop complaining."

"OMG! Yes, yes," Zachary yelled, pumping a fist in the air before quickening his step towards the referee. His hopes soared to another level as he realized that the spot for the free kick was only twelve or so yards outside the box. It was in a perfect position — just close to the right flank, where he could punish the keeper with his Bend-it-like-Beckham Juju.

"What a cheap giveaway of a free kick!" Zachary mused as he stepped towards Nicki Nielsen and patted the forward's shoulder as a show of thanks for his efforts. The center-forward had helped Rosenborg obtain a golden chance to take the lead in the 2nd minute of gameplay. Of course, Zachary was appreciative.

"The rest is up to you, Zachary," Nicki said to him after picking himself up from the ground. The center-forward was grinning from ear to ear and didn't look like someone that had just been fouled. He was obviously in a good mood.

"Remember," he continued. "Don't pressure yourself. Relax, and take the free kick as usual. As long as you do that, you'll have a decent chance of scoring our first goal."

"Noted, and thank you," Zachary replied succinctly and then picked the ball from the referee. Without wasting any time, he delicately placed the ball on the green. He took great care throughout the entire process and confirmed there wasn't even a single stalk of grass in front of the ball.

He then took a few steps backward before activating the Dead Ball Specialist Juju and starting to observe both the keeper and the defensive wall. For the next few seconds, his mind was in a state of extreme focus as his eyes took in all the happenings before and within Salzburg's box. He was determined to score Rosenborg's first goal there and then. He couldn't let himself make even the simplest of mistakes at such a crucial moment of the game.

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Coach Roger Schmidt was extremely nervous as he watched the goings-on before Red Bull's box. He'd warned his players to beware of conceding unnecessary free kicks within the final third. However, just two minutes into the game, his star center-back had already committed a needless foul just a few yards from the box. As a result, Rosenborg had a chance to take the lead through their monstrous Maestro — Zachary Bemba.

Coach Roger Schmidt could only pray the young number-33 was off-form that evening. Otherwise, there was no way he would miss a free kick in such a perfect position while at the top of his game. That was a deduction that came naturally to him after recalling a few moments from Rosenborg's past matches.

*FWEEEEEEE*

At that moment, the referee blew the whistle. The sound rang across the then almost silent stadium, causing Coach Roger Schmidt's heart to start pounding with anxiety. Nevertheless, as an experienced coach, he forced himself to calm down as his gaze followed Zachary — who was already making an angled run towards the ball.

The young number-33 was the perfect definition of a skilled and experienced old professional as he made the last jump step towards the ball. His movements were smooth and immaculate, like flowing clouds and the autumn breeze, as he brandished his foot like a whip to send the set-piece barely a foot over the wall. Unsurprisingly, the ball curled over the wall in a perfect arc, flying through the air like a missile before homing into the top left corner.

SILENCE!!!

For an instant, the cheers and boos from the Red Bull Salzburg fans totally vanished. The fans seemed surprised and didn't expect a player from a team like Rosenborg to net such a goal. With an uncanny moment of brilliance, Zachary had unleashed a missile of a shot from around thirty-five yards away to catch the keeper unawares and score Rosenborg's first goal in the 2nd minute.

RED BULL SALZBURG 0: ROSENBORG BK 1

Coach Roger Schmidt sighed, shaking his head after taking a glance at the stadium's jumbotron. It seemed his worst fears were already coming true. However, as an experienced coach, he didn't rush to change his game strategy. What his team had was time to turn things around. He was determined to stick to his philosophy of attacking the opponent like there wasn't a tomorrow. With his team that contained an assembly of talented attackers, he didn't believe that he would fail to score at least two goals in the remaining eighty or so minutes.

"Guys!" He yelled in German at the top of his voice while clapping his hands to motivate his players. "Don't mind! Don't mind! We still have more than eighty minutes remaining to the final whistle. Focus! Focus! Let's teach these Norwegians the meaning of attacking football. Sadio and Kevin! Stop sleeping in the wings. I want crosses floating into the box without a pause..."

The Red Bull Salzburg coach roared out his commands to his players at the pace of machine guns. He seemed unbothered by Rosenborg's opening goal. What was there to fear? His custom was to defend by attacking. IF Rosenborg scored one goal, he would score two. And if Rosenborg scored two goals, he would net three. That was his style, and it had slowly become the way of Red Bull Salzburg as well.

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