Enjoy!
Chapter Five: The 4-4-2
Saturday morning was cool and cloudy, perfect weather for footballing. Annabeth dressed in a light grey tracksuit and running shoes, throwing a parka over one arm as an added measure. She packed football boots, clipboard and water bottle into her bag, then swept down the stairs and out of the house before her mother could accost her.
Percy was waiting at the kerb, windows rolled down to enjoy the breeze. Annabeth threw her bag and parka into the backseat, then opened the front passenger door and slid in.
"Percy," she greeted him. "Thanks for the lift."
"No problem, coach." He replied as they peeled into the road.
"Don't call me that," Annabeth said incredulously.
"You'll have to get used to it," Percy grinned. "We're all gonna call you coach. It's natural. You're taking training, after all."
"Oh, boy." Annabeth shook her head. "How many players are there on the squad?"
"Officially there are twenty-five." Percy said. "But only fifteen are actually first-team. The rest are considered reserves."
"But we've two players injured?"
Percy nodded. "Dakota and Beckendorf, both midfielders."
"Do we have an estimated date for their return?"
"Dakota says his is minor. Probably be back the game after. But Beckendorf has a muscle injury and he'll only be back in end December."
"Right." Annabeth compressed her lips, thinking ahead. "Guess we'll have to work with what we've got."
"Yeah," Percy sighed. "Injuries suck."
They arrived at Goode High at quarter to nine, but the school's frustrating layout meant that they only arrived at the pitch at nine on the dot. From what Annabeth could see, most of the squad was already there, doing toe touches and stretches on the sparkling astroturf.
"Hey, Percy." A quartet of guys hailed him as he and Annabeth arrived.
"Sup, guys." Percy gave them a round of fist bumps.
"Matthew, Mark, Luke, John," Percy introduced them to Annabeth. "Our back four. We call them the four gospels."
"I remember you," Annabeth said as she shook their hands. "You played on Thursday."
"Is everyone here yet?" Percy asked them.
"Yep," Matthew, or was it Mark, replied. Annabeth started to frown as she tried to put a name to his face, then turned away before they could notice it. Her frown deepened as she looked down at the pitch, sweeping her shoe over the surface. Little droplets of water glistened on the upturned surfaces and she shook her head.
"It must've rained in the morning." Percy guessed.
"Slippery." Annabeth flexed her jaw unhappily. "That's bad."
Most of the guys had noticed their arrival and were jogging over. Annabeth swept grey eyes over the sea of faces and steeled herself. For almost half the squad, it was their first time meeting her. She had one chance to make an impression on them before they started sizing her up.
"Guys, this is Annabeth." Jason stepped forward to introduce her. "She's standing in for Coach Hedge while he's out."
"Hi everyone," Annabeth gave the group a little wave. "How about a round of introductions to start things off? I've never met some of you before."
Annabeth wrote their names and positions down on her clipboard:
Percy — Left wing
Chris — Left wing
Nico — Right wing
Ron — Right wing
Jason — Centre forward
Malcolm — Centre forward
Leo — Central midfield
Dakota — Central midfield (Injured)
Beckendorf — Central midfield/central defensive midfield (Injured)
Frank — Central midfield/Central defensive midfield
Luke — Left-back
John — Right-back
Matthew — Centre-back
Mark — Centre-back
David — Goalkeeper
The other ten guys were JVs. Annabeth wrote their names in a separate column.
Caleb — Forward/winger
Joshua — Forward/winger
Nate — Winger
Paul — Central defensive midfield
James — Central midfield
Lee — Left-back
Michael — Right-back
Benjamin — Centre-back
Joseph — Centre-back
Edwin — Goalkeeper
"Jason, how about you lead the warm-up while I go get the cones."
The blonde captain nodded, clapping his gloved hands together to get everyone's attention.
"Right, guys. Two laps. Let's go."
The 23-strong squad started with a two-lap jog round the pitch, followed by a series of stretches. Then they got the balls out and broke into groups for passing exercises while Annabeth dragged the whiteboard out of the changing room.
Jason walked over when he saw her emerge from the tunnel.
"What's next, coach? Warm-up's done."
Annabeth intended to keep things simple for her first training session, seeing as the last game had only been two days ago and the players were still sore.
"Stay in your groups. Do the same thing, but this time only one-touch passing."
Jason nodded and jogged off, gesturing to the groups as he passed them.
Annabeth arranged the magnets into two sets of four-four-two, then walked off to observe the players as they went through the drill.
She arrived at one group just as Leo miscontrolled a ball from Frank, lunging out acrobatically in an attempt to salvage it. The lively midfielder yelled as he overbalanced and stumbled on the pitch, the ball bobbling away in the wrong direction.
"Drop twenty," Frank told him.
"That was too high!" Leo protested. "It's your fault."
"It was low on the grass." Frank shook his head. "Drop."
"You see that, Coach?" Leo spun round to face her, catching her by surprise. "They're setting me up!"
"Drop," Annabeth said, smiling. "But just ten. Don't tire yourself out."
"Unbelievable." Leo shook his head. "Everyone's against Leo now."
"Spread yourself a bit wider," Annabeth told him when he'd popped back to his feet. She demonstrated, taking up the position he'd formerly been in, then shifting into a broader stance. "If you're facing the ball carrier like this, it'll make it easier to receive the pass."
Leo gave it a try and this time the ball stopped cleanly on the inside of his foot.
"That's one touch," Nico pointed out.
"Aww c'mon," Leo complained. "I'm trying to learn something here."
He passed the ball to him. Nico passed it back and this time Leo was able to hit the pass seamlessly with one touch.
"Well done." Annabeth nodded, almost to herself, and moved on.
They continued the drill for fifteen minutes, then Annabeth split each group into two teams, one to stay in possession and the other to try and intercept their passes.
"The purpose of the previous drill was to pass fast and accurate." Annabeth told them. "We don't always have the ball. When we do get it we need to move it fast, so now we'll add some pressers to simulate an in-game situation."
The players restarted the drill with the reconfigured setup. Annabeth watched them as they sprinted and chased, scribbling notes onto her clipboard. She was starting to get a feel of each player's profile, although apart from Frank and Leo, the rest of them weren't particularly outstanding at passing, marking or pressing.
Frank was a natural passer, possibly the best in the squad, but didn't press very aggressively, preferring to sit back and cut off the passing lane. Leo was the complete opposite, breaking into tackles and sprints without hesitation. His frenetic movement enabled him to win the ball back several times, but once he got on the ball he moved it away so quickly that he sometimes gave it back to an opposition player. The two of them complimented each other, an ideal pairing for a midfield duo, but they both had weaknesses that Annabeth knew she had to address.
"Look around you," Annabeth told Leo. "Make sure you know where your teammates are at all times. That way once you win the ball back, you know exactly where to put it."
To Frank, she explained the theory of covershadows, demonstrating once with Nico and Leo as simulated opponents.
"If you press from the right direction you can restrict the opposing player's passing. That way he won't be able to pass to the person you were previously marking, and your pressure might force him into playing the ball away or making a mistake."
She started by marking Nico, then broke into a run toward Leo, maintaining her position directly between the two of them. Leo tried to pass the ball around her and she knocked it away.
"Like that, so now you take out two players at once."
Frank scratched his head. "Once Leo passes the ball to another teammate, he'd have an easy pass to Nico since I've moved away."
"Not if the rest of the team is pressing as one." Annabeth said. "I'll explain it later on the tactics board, but the gist is that when everyone presses together the opponent won't have any time and space on the ball to make forward movements."
After fifteen minutes of moderate-intensity pressing, she moved the team on to an hour of shooting drills, not wanting to tire them out. They went through every possible angle she could think of, varying the ranges to give them a mix between power and skill.
All the forwards had different attributes. Nico was the best dribbler and had the fastest feet. Jason had the most height and strength. Malcolm was the most accurate; the ball always went exactly where he wanted it to. Chris and Ron were lightning-fast and could outpace anybody to the ball.
Percy was the most lethal finisher. While the others excelled in one area or another, he was a blend of everything; speed, skill and instinct. Shooting came as naturally as walking to him. He could squeeze off a shot from anywhere on the pitch, at any angle, no matter how many players there were around him. Once he got the ball in and around the box it was almost a guarantee that he'd get a shot away.
After the shooting drills they practiced penalties and free kicks, then Annabeth ended the session half an hour early. Although they still had energy, the team was showing signs of fatigue and she didn't want to push them.
"The next training is on Monday, yes?"
"Monday," Jason confirmed. "Then another on Tuesday. Usually we have one rest day before the game on Thursday."
Annabeth pursed her lips. "I have my own trainings on Mondays and Tuesdays."
"Will you still be with us, then?" Jason looked alarmed at the thought of losing his new coach.
"What time is the boys' training?" She asked.
"Three to six." He replied.
"Mine is six to nine." Annabeth said, satisfied. "Perfect timing."
"Oh, good." Jason looked relieved. "Guess we'll see you then."
They worked intensely on the new formation over the next two sessions. Annabeth coached the team on all aspects of the game, particularly in transitions where she knew Goode were the most lethal. She explained each play on the tactics board, drawing lines, arrows and circles to indicate where each of them should be expecting runs and which spaces they should run into.
The overall game plan she laid out was to sit in a compact block and tear their opponents apart with lethal, precise counterattacks. She'd decided on this tactic due to the fact that apart from Frank, nobody in the team had the know-how to get on the ball and control the game, and also because a 4-4-2 wasn't optimal for possession-based football anyway. Since none of the attackers were great at creating opportunities, it was better to play the ball into space and let them run onto it.
She'd spent the whole Sunday afternoon coming up with diagrams and tactical instructions for each player according to their specific roles and strengths, only for everything to unravel the next day on the pitch. It wasn't anybody's fault. The players simply could not absorb the immense volume of information Annabeth was throwing at them, nor were they able to execute half the plays she showed them.
It wasn't all bad. The players understood the counterattacking part well enough. Defending in the low block came easily as well, since a 4-4-2 was simple to learn and straightforward by nature. It was the possession phase that they simply could not understand. They had no idea how to build from the back and during an exercise Annabeth had devised to familiarise them with the new formation, they spent the entire fifteen minutes pinging the ball around the back four. Annabeth suspected it had nothing to do with the new formation; Goode simply didn't know how to keep possession.
"Screw it," Annabeth told the team after an agonising fifteen-minute session at the tactics board that left the players befuddled and confused. "New plan." She rearranged the magnets on the board. "Forget playing out from the back. Go long, down the wings or direct to Jason. Watch for the forwards' runs. If the ball goes to one flank, the closest forward drops in to support him. The far-side winger and forward make runs toward the box. Once you're there, it's up to you whether you want to wait outside or go in."
"What if they intercept the ball?" Leo asked.
"Press." Annabeth said simply. "Or else cut off their forward passing options. That's the role you and Frank are going to play."
They tried the new tactics out on the pitch. Annabeth thought it looked alright, although it would take some weeks for them to gel. At least this time they understood what they were supposed to do.
"You need to support your wingers when they run down the flank," she told Luke and John. "One winger in the final third will get surrounded if he's alone. Everyone else is in the centre of the pitch. You have to provide the rear passing option."
"But if we do that, we'd be leaving Matthew and Mark alone at the back." John scratched his head.
"That's too risky," Luke added.
"The far-side fullback will hang back," Annabeth pulled the corresponding magnet down the board. "That way it's three defenders, not two. But in possession he has to be slightly more advanced. If the team isn't making any progress on one flank they'll switch it to the other. When that happens, the fullback there has to be quick to bring the ball forward."
Luke and John looked at each other. "We haven't really done that before," Luke said. "Usually we just hang back."
"That is why the team keeps losing the ball up the pitch," Annabeth explained patiently. "There's nobody to recycle possession and nobody to switch flanks. Whenever an attack breaks down the opponent will come straight at you. That sound familiar?"
The defenders shared another glance. "Sort of."
"Our wingers like to get into the box," Annabeth's train of thought had drifted away from the conversation. The two fullbacks weren't following and blinked confusedly, then jumped as her gaze suddenly snapped back to them. "How good is your crossing?"
"So-so," Luke made a see-saw motion with his hand.
"Nothing great," John shrugged.
"You need to get better." Annabeth said fiercely, leaving them slightly unsettled at her sudden change of tone.
From then on the rest of the training session was about crossing. They came up with an exercise that pitted the team against a back four and two defensive midfielders. The centre-back started the move by playing a long ball down either flank. The winger tried to outmanoeuvre his opposing fullback while the rest of the attackers ran into the box. If he could not dribble into the box or shake the defender off, he played it back to his own fullback who would then swing a cross into the box. Frank and Leo acted as facilitators, battling for loose balls and coming short to provide a passing option. Once the ball went out of play or was recovered by the defence, Annabeth tossed another ball to the centre-backs and the whole exercise started again.
Leo in particular excelled in the new formation, using his nimble feet and relentless energy to harass his opponents into making mistakes on the ball which his teammates or himself could pounce on. Annabeth was impressed with his seemingly endless reserve of energy.
Frank was slower to adapt to the new system and not as quick over ground. Annabeth frowned as he backed off from an obvious opportunity to press, then moments later threw up her hands in frustration as he darted out to the flank with the ball at his feet.
"No, no, no!" She raged. "You're supposed to stay in the middle of the pitch!"
Then he floated a perfect cross into the box that gravitated toward Jason's head like a magnet, glanced off and nestled into the back of the net. Annabeth clamped her gaping mouth shut as he turned in her direction to jog back down the pitch.
"That was good," she told him. "You weren't supposed to do that, but it was good." That cross remained in her mind for the rest of the day. She tried a dozen times to replicate it during her own training later and failed every time. For all her skill, he seemed to possess an understanding of the ball that she simply could not grasp.
By the end of Tuesday the team was familiar enough with the 4-4-2 to string together a decent performance on the training pitch. There were still things to be ironed out, but the players had grasped the basics and understood their roles. Annabeth was hopeful that once they were on the pitch, instinct would kick in to paper over the cracks, like how it had been in the previous match.
Annabeth felt fairly optimistic as she boarded the team bus on Thursday. The players seemed nervous, but without the air of fear she had seen in their previous game. She observed the starting lineup as they did their warm-up. The players looked calm and settled as they went through the motions. Her gaze was drawn to Percy, as it always was, and Annabeth thought he seemed a little off in the way he moved. She frowned at his distant figure, trying and failing to put her finger on it. She decided to keep an eye on him, just in case there was really something wrong.
Their opponents for today were Crosby High, a mid-table team with a reputation for sober, unspectacular football. They were unlikely to spring any surprises, although the flip side of the coin was that they wouldn't be easy to break down either.
"We don't need to produce anything spectacular," Annabeth told the team before the game started. "Just stay focused and do what we've been practicing. Support each other. We don't have to dominate possession to create chances."
The game began at a feeble pace. Crosby moved the ball around with measured long-range passes, trying to break through Goode's lines. Goode's defenders held their position at the edge of the penalty box, doing just enough to keep Crosby out.
The front four of Nico, Jason, Percy and Chris looked like they were raring to attack, but without the ball, Goode were unable to do much more than lunge players forward in short bursts. They tried to trap the Crosby fullbacks several times, but nothing came out of it. Crosby were quick to get players around the ball whenever Goode took possession. The issue with transitions that Annabeth had identified in training was beginning to show. Goode's players didn't know what to do with the ball when they intercepted it.
"Go long!" Annabeth yelled, pointing upfield toward the Crosby half.
Mark punted the ball skyward in response. Percy and Chris ran for it as it came down the left inside channel, but Crosby's fullback got to it first and sent it back the way it'd come. A midfield scramble ensued as Frank and Leo chased the Crosby midfielders around for a few seconds, then Crosby played the ball back to their centre-back near the halfway line.
Percy sprinted toward him, scenting an opportunity. The Crosby defender passed the ball sideways without looking, intended for his centre-back partner, and instead rolled it to Jason Grace.
The front four raced forward like cheetahs. Jason powered through the two defenders and into the box. The goalkeeper came charging out to block him and Jason slid the ball under him and into the goal.
"Yes!" Annabeth and the substitutes jumped up like fireworks had gone off beneath their seats, cheering and shouting. Jason punched the air in triumph as the Goode players mobbed him.
Crosby pushed forward from the restart, eager to hit back. Goode defended resolutely, but could not break Crosby's momentum. Several crosses came into Goode's box, causing chaos as Matthew and Mark scrambled to clear the danger. Frank got on the ball at the edge of the box and sent a long pass toward Percy, who stumbled on the grass and missed his step. The ball rolled past him and was picked up by Crosby's centre-back, who pinged it across the pitch to his right-back. Goode was surging forward like a tidal wave and Leo failed to notice Crosby's centre-forward lurking in the space behind him.
The ball zipped past him like a bullet. Leo spun around immediately, realising his mistake.
Crosby's centre-forward picked up the ball just outside the box completely unmarked. Matthew and Mark threw themselves at him as he fired low and hard toward David's goal. The powerfully-built goalkeeper sprang off the line, but was a fraction of a second too late and the ball brushed past the tip of his glove on the way in.
The stadium erupted in cheers as Matthew and Mark picked themselves off the ground. David rolled onto his back and groaned. Leo buried his head in his hands, looking heartbroken. Percy, who'd landed face-first in the astroturf, slammed his fist onto the pitch in frustration.
"Get up!" Annabeth shouted at them. "The game's not over. Stay compact. Don't lose your focus!"
The team slowly got back into their positions. Jason walked over to the centre circle, ball in hand.
"What's the plan?" John shouted to her as the crowd settled back into their seats.
"Stick to what we practiced," Annabeth yelled back. "Go long and put crosses into the box."
"Pack up and go home!" The Crosby fans jeered.
John glared at them in anger and turned away.
Crosby continued to threaten, probing down the flanks and dribbling into midfield. Percy and Jason weren't used to man-marking and kept losing track of the Crosby midfielders. Matthew and Mark twice blocked goal-bound shots and David punched a cross away as Crosby upped the tempo. The fast pace increased the likelihood of someone making a mistake and in the thirtieth minute Luke tackled a Crosby player in the penalty box, sending him crashing into the barricade that separated the pitch from the rest of the stadium.
Jeers rang out across the stands. Angry Crosby players shouted and gestured at the defiant left-back. The referee brandished his yellow card at Luke and awarded a penalty kick.
David had no chance against the Crosby centre-forward. The ball went straight down the middle as he dived to the left. The crowd erupted for the second time as he kicked the post in anger.
"Get on the ball and make something happen," Annabeth told a frustrated Nico on the sideline. "We still have fifteen minutes before half-time and we're only one goal down. Don't lose your cool."
"I lost my cool ten minutes ago," Nico muttered as he strode back onto the pitch. "This sucks."
The Goode players' anger seemed to give them a boost. Three attackers surged forward from the restart as Frank booted a long ball down the left. Crosby headed the ball back upfield and Leo deliberately delayed his tackle until the opposing player had chested it down, swiping it from under his feet as he was about to pass it away. Leo drove forward and slipped a pass to Percy, who battled Crosby's left-back down the wing and unleashed a fierce drive that struck the post. Jason ran onto the rebound and let fly with his weaker left boot as Crosby's keeper threw himself forward.
The ball crashed into the keeper's face with the force of a cannonball, then Jason flying foot struck him in the ribs as he tried to jump out of the way. Both players tumbled in a heap on the turf. The ball flew into the stands.
Jason picked himself up, wincing at the heavy impact. The Crosby keeper stayed down and the referee decided he was too injured to carry on.
There was a lengthy stoppage in play as the injured keeper slowly made his way off the pitch. The Crosby player that Luke had previously tackled limped off too, unable to recover from his encounter with the Goode left-back and the barricade.
A new set of jeers rose from the stands, the supporters' anger directed at the Goode players whom they perceived to be overly physical. A chant of 'stop injuring our players' started at one end and Nico responded by cupping a hand to one ear. Empty cans and water bottles rained down all around him, but the diminutive winger refused to back down, gesturing at them to improve their aim. Jason finally dragged him away as the game neared the restart.
Goode went on the attack. Frank and Leo advanced into Crosby's half, playing the ball forward through the crowd of Crosby players. Wingers and full-backs ran down the flanks, shifting the ball fluidly in a dazzling display of one-touch passing. Crosby remained camped outside their penalty box, barring the way in.
The pressure continued to no avail. Crosby, while unimaginative in possession, were dogged in defence, once again exposing Goode's lack of creativity. Goode's crosses were constantly being blocked or headed out of the penalty box. Percy and Jason battled hard but could not find a way past the Crosby centre-backs.
The game entered four minutes of stoppage time at the end of the first half. Nico got on the ball and cut inside from the right, darting through the crowd of yellow Crosby shirts. He fired in from a tight angle and Crosby's reserve keeper dived low to make the save, spilling the ball back into the six-yard box.
The centre-backs ran in to clear the danger, but Percy had anticipated the rebound and arrived a split second before them, poking the ball into the net with the tip of his boot.
"YES!" Annabeth, who'd been dreading the thought of giving a half-time team talk at 2-1 down, howled in triumphant relief.
The Goode players gathered for a long group hug, using the celebration as an excuse to catch their breath after twenty minutes of hectic, high-intensity football. Percy, unsurprisingly, was the last to emerge from the group, but his head remained down as he walked toward the centre circle and Annabeth frowned at the way his boots dragged on the grass. He was clearly fatigued and she realised she'd need to substitute him at half-time.
She looked over to the bench, seeing Malcolm seated the closest to her.
"Start warming up," she told him. "You're going in for the second half."
The blond striker nodded acknowledgement and got up from his chair.
The first half came to an end with the score tied 2-2. Both teams headed into the dressing rooms. Annabeth and the Goode players were relieved and secretly pleased to have come through half the game on level terms, while Crosby looked annoyed at the loss of two players to injury and their inability to make their dominance count.
"You look tired," Annabeth said to Percy in the tunnel.
"I can't go on," Percy shook his head, sounding dejected. "I need to come off. I'm sorry, Annabeth."
"You've done all you could," Annabeth said reassuringly. "Don't beat yourself up. Malcolm will take over."
Her measured tone masked her worry. Percy was perhaps their biggest goalscoring threat next to Jason. Taking him off would definitely reduce their attacking strength, and while Malcolm would provide more running and energy, his quality remained unknown to Annabeth, who'd never seen him play before.
The half-time break was over in the blink of an eye. Annabeth tried to reassure the team and boost their confidence. She could see that while they remained motivated to fight on, they seemed nervous that Crosby would finish them off in the second half.
"Are you going to give a half-time talk?" Jason asked her.
"Of course," Annabeth replied.
She stepped forward and the players' gazes swung collectively toward her. She was astonished at the response and taken aback, but remembered to keep her face straight just as the surprise started to show.
"We're on level terms," she said. "Crosby will come at us again in the second half like they did in the first. It'll be hard. But that will open up space behind for our attackers to run into. We need to press them into losing possession, and once we get the ball we can play our attackers in behind their defence. Stay calm, don't panic. Forwards," she paused to eyeball Chris, Jason, Nico and Malcolm. "Time your runs so you stay onside. Look for each other. If we remain solid at the back and take our chances, we'll win."
She nodded to Jason, indicating that she was done with her speech.
"Alright, circle up." Jason's voice filled the dressing room. The players gathered into a circle with Annabeth standing outside it.
"We scored twice in the first half. We can do it again. Crosby have no imagination. They're predictable! Second half, we don't give them anything. Don't let them in. We're not gonna lose this game! We're not gonna lose anymore! Let's go!"
The players broke into claps and shouts of approval. Everybody started moving toward the door. Annabeth caught up to Malcolm amidst the press of players.
"Good to go?" She asked.
"Yeah." Malcolm replied, rolling his shoulders. "All systems go, let's do this."
"Watch their CDM when we're out of possession," Annabeth said to him. "I don't want him getting on the ball."
"Got it." Malcolm nodded. "I'll shut him down."
The second half began as predictably as everyone had expected, Crosby dominating possession, Goode holding position in their own half. The placid atmosphere suited Goode more than Crosby, giving them time to grow into the game and calm themselves. The ball moved around the pitch at a measured pace. Annabeth was puzzled by Crosby's lack of intensity. Surely they wanted to win in front of their own fans?
Goode counterattacked a couple times, going close to Crosby's box before being blocked off or firing wide. Malcolm and Jason's blonde heads seemed to flash in the sun whenever they moved, catching Annabeth's eye. The duo attracted a crowd of Crosby players every time they got on the ball and Annabeth guessed they were trying to stop Goode's focal point of attack.
Malcolm was the more energetic of the two, but didn't carry as big a threat on the ball like Percy or Jason. He dropped deeper than Jason, often shadowing Crosby's CDM and chasing him down. He tended to head towards the ball whenever it came close, unlike Jason who usually moved away. The two strikers complemented each other, but having not played with each other before, looked out of sync. Annabeth bit back a groan as Jason got on the ball and fired a low cross toward the post. Malcolm, who'd been standing unmarked at the edge of the box instead of running in, shouted at him in frustration, holding his hands wide open to indicate the amount of space he'd had.
"Look to your surroundings," Annabeth shouted to the two of them. "There's blue shirts on your left and right."
"We should advance," Nico urged her. "They aren't pressuring us as much."
Annabeth shook her head. "We'll open ourselves up if we try to chase the ball. That's why they aren't committing. They want to lure us out. Stay in formation."
Goode's patient approach finally paid off in the sixtieth minute. Frank got on the ball just as a gap opened up in Crosby's midfield and sent a raking pass into Jason's feet. The tall centre-forward made a powerful run into the box as defenders surrounded him, but instead of shooting like he'd done before, he flicked the ball into the empty space on the right. Every head turned in that direction just as Nico ran on to it.
Defenders lunged at him like piranhas. Nico darted into the box, dodging and weaving through them one after another before firing low and hard through the goalkeeper's legs and into the net.
The Crosby supporters fell into dismayed silence as Goode's players ran toward Nico to celebrate. The diminutive winger clenched his fist in triumph, glaring at the mass of opposition fans.
"Yes!" Annabeth leapt into the air in excitement. Crosby's game plan had backfired and now they would have to push forward to get back into the game, playing straight into Goode's hands. An exquisite satisfaction filled her chest at the realisation that she'd outmanoeuvred her opponent's tactics.
Nico's goal seemed to have rattled the Crosby players. Two minutes later Crosby lost the ball high up the pitch, enabling Goode to counterattack at pace. Chris raced onto Frank's long pass down the left and spotted Malcolm running into the box. He played a perfect cross into Malcolm's feet and the blonde striker slammed it into the back of the net with his first touch. 4-2.
The small number of Goode fans were going nuts in the far corner of the stadium. Malcolm sprinted over to them to celebrate, sliding onto the grass as his teammates piled into a group hug. Crosby looked shellshocked, their fans in disbelief at what they were witnessing.
Five minutes later it happened again. Crosby lost possession and Goode surged forward. The ball moved from Leo to Frank to Jason with impossible speed. Jason looked up, saw three defenders in front of him and passed the ball sideways to Malcolm. Malcolm arrived in the box and a defender squared up to him. He faked right, went left and the wrong-footed defender grabbed onto him, wrestled him down, but could not stop him from slipping the ball into the path of an onrushing Chris who fired the ball into the goal from point-blank range. The score was 5-2 to Goode with twenty minutes to go.
The last Crosby substitution entered the field during the extended break in play. A midfielder, from what Annabeth could tell. Crosby was clearly trying to get back in the game and Annabeth responded by getting Ron to warm up. Five minutes later he was ready to enter the game, jogging on the spot as they waited for a break in play. Annabeth stood next to him, a frown on her face as she watch a Crosby attack come down the flank. Nico chased the ball down, gasping for air. The Crosby winger easily outpaced him, then ghosted past John as if he wasn't there. David spread himself at the near post as the winger closed in.
The shot happened so quickly that Annabeth almost missed it. David sprawled to the ground, but the ball had gone toward the far post, out of his reach, and the Crosby supporters roared as it rolled past him and into the net. 5-3.
"Don't lose focus!" Annabeth shouted to her players. "Keep your shape! We need to close them down quicker to avoid this kind of thing."
The sudden goal seemed to give Crosby hope. Goode were clearly tiring and struggled to hang on as wave after wave of Crosby attacks came into their box. Chris and Ron were pushed so far back that they looked more like full-backs than wingers. Malcolm was trying to man-mark their CDM, but was constantly being dragged out of position as their midfielders switched positions.
Annabeth realised that Crosby's substitution was causing problems. They had switched from a straightforward 4-3-3 to a 4-2-3-1 with a playmaker. That playmaker was occupying Frank and Leo with his erratic movements, leaving Malcolm trying to mark the other two midfielders by himself. Jason had fallen back to help him out, but with everyone committed to defence, there was nobody to chase the long balls that they had worked on all week. Goode's game plan had been reduced to a compact formation of players camped in their own half, unable to break out or maintain possession.
Crosby scored again five minutes later, their centre-forward receiving the ball in the box and poking it past David after a sustained spell of pressure. Crosby were overflowing with new confidence, packing Goode's penalty box with players and sending ball after ball in. For about ten minutes Goode held on and Annabeth dared to hope they might see the game out, but with three minutes to go, Crosby scored a fifth goal to level the scores.
Everything was pure desperation now. Annabeth replaced Leo, who was close to exhaustion, with Paul in an attempt to shore up midfield. Goode retreated toward their penalty box, repelling the ball each time it came in. Every Crosby player had advanced into Goode's half. Annabeth's nerves were ground to shreds as corner after corner bombarded Goode's goal. Several goal-mouth scrambles ensued in the chaos of players. Crosby fired off shots every chance they got, but each time it deflected off the forest of blue shin pads and long socks. The four remaining minutes seemed to last an eternity. Crosby sensed they were running out of time and increased the tempo, but Goode stubbornly held on until the final whistle blew. Both sets of players collapsed to the turf like puppets whose strings had been cut. Annabeth gave a deep sigh, shoulders sagging as the tension drained from her.
Goode's players were in a celebratory mood as they returned to the changing room. Annabeth was surprised by the smiles and high-fives going around.
"Do you normally celebrate a draw like this?" She asked Percy.
"This is the first away game that we haven't lost." He explained. "It's a big achievement. To us, that is."
"I see." Annabeth didn't see how a draw could possibly be considered any sort of achievement, but decided not to ruin the players' good mood.
"Good job today," she told them after they had finally settled down. "It's a massive improvement from last week. Everything and everyone has gotten better. Have a rest tomorrow and we'll see each other on Saturday morning."
Another round of cheers went up from the assembled players.
"Two in a row unbeaten!" Leo whooped.
Their jubilation was contagious and Annabeth felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She restrained herself, plastering a neutral expression on her face. Draws were nothing to celebrate about. Only wins mattered, and she was already reviewing the game in her head, remembering all the shortfalls that Crosby had exposed and planning how to improve on them in the next training session.
Once again, a very big thank you for the massive support. You guys have made my day. Cheers!