Coming On
The first few minutes of the match was dull, it was basically a two teams knocking the ball around.
Occasionally, there were exciting sparks formed by counter attacks but ultimately, the ball was either intercepted by the opposition or a washed chance ensued.
It wasn't until the fortieth minute that the first real chance was created.
David who was playing a very crucial role, playing as the sole pivot in what was disguised as a 4-2-3-1 formation intercepted the ball in his own half. He went on a solo dribble on to the halfway point before playing a through ball for Ibrahim Jones ( Left Winger). Ibrahim went on a small solo run along the left flank before finding himself face to face with a the Beaton right back. He faked dribbling wide before attempting to cut into the box.
Unfortunately, the right back wasn't fooled by the body feint and made the tackle successfully.
'And it's a wasted opportunity here for Teesside. Beautiful play from Arkenberg to intercept the ball and manage to get a ball through to the left. Jones should've done a lot more with the ball, instead he wasted the ball and now Beaton are right back in possession'
'Teesside should really be taking chances like this. With their injury crisis and all, they're considered the underdogs. Chances like this are going to be few and far between'
'They are in a pretty good place in the table, third place just two points off second. These are the stages where they'll want to snatch as many points as possible, especially against opposition like Beaton who are considered one of the favorites to win the English Second Tier this season'
The match turned into a one way battering as Beaton were looking for an opener. They kept battering the Teesside defense with shots, but so far the defenders and the goalkeeper, much to Michael's relief, were up to the challenge.
The fact that Beaton were on the hunt for a goal didn't mean that Teesside's attack were stagnant. They went on counters but they could hardly convert any of them. It wasn't until the thirty fifth minute that something very interesting happened in the match.
Once again, David intercepted a loose ball and was on the move. He passed the ball to the left, into the feet of Ibrahim Jones. The left winger dribbled forward on a solo run and once again found himself one on one with the right back that managed to tackle the ball off his feet minutes earlier.
His legs flashed over the ball in a step over attempt. He managed to get the better of the right back and kicked the ball between his legs, but right when he was about to make his way into the box, he fell on the floor.
The referee blew his whistle and ran from where he was previously standing and showed the Beaton right back a yellow card. Ibrahim was on the floor, clutching his left ankle and moaning in pain.
'Ooh! That looks like it hurts. Ibrahim managed to get the better of the defender, but it looks like it wasn't meant to be. Just when he was about to get into the box, his ankle was clipped and now we have a grown man groaning in pain on the floor'
'I think the yellow card is a bit of a let off if you ask me. There was no way he was going for the ball at all. There was no way he was going to get to the ball at all. He went for Jones' legs and now Jones is on the floor and from the looks of it, Teesside's injury woes continue'
"Fucking hell" Michael muttered under his breath from the sidelines. He looked towards the physiotherapists that had already begun running towards Ibrahim and sighed. From the looks of it, even though Ibrahim wasn't really injured, there was no way that he would be able to continue with the match.
He looked towards his bench, skimming through the players he had at his disposal. His eyes shone when they settled upon Omari but he shook himself out of it.
Omari's the only left winger I have left. If I decide to put in a midfielder, then I have to change the entire set of tactics I have given them. If I sub I a defender, then we'll have to play defensive football until full time. Fuck! I guess I have to put Omari in. But this is such a physical match. Introducing a sixteen year old in this kind of a match puts a lot at risk. But I don't have any other attacking options. Oh well… fuck it! What's the worst that can happen to him?
"Ref!" Michael signaled to the linesman. "I want to make a change"
The linesman looked at Ibrahim who was still receiving treatments from the physiotherapists and nodded his head.
"Hutchingson, change into your jersey, you're coming on!"
Omari was ecstatic when he heard Michael's words. He tried to hide the smile that was blossoming on his face but he couldn't completely bury it. Michael sighed when he saw the grin on Omari's face.
After Omari put on his jersey and was about to come on, Michael walked to him and wrapped an arm around his neck.
"Look, this isn't the typical under eighteen match or a match against a non league opponent. Over here things are much more physical. If the defenders see you as to much of a threat then they might want to take you out. So stay quick on your feet. No take ons, only sprint past and pass back if there's no way forward. Do you hear what I'm saying?"
Omari nodded. Shortly after, he ran into the pitch and assumed his position on the left flank. A smirk crept up his face as he remembered what Michael told him before he came on.
He understood that Michael was worried about him an didn't want him to suffer any injuries, hence the advice. But the fact that Michael told him all these… didn't mean that he was going to listen.
"That little piece of shit isn't going to listen to me, is he?" Michael muttered to himself when he saw the smirk on Omari's face. "Welp, it will be interesting to see what he can do against seasoned opponents"
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