Now the momentum was ours. I was a conductor on the sideline, and the team was my orchestra. I used a quick hand signal to tell Nya to drop deeper, providing cover, which in turn unleashed Eze to push further forward.
The System confirmed the change, showing our attacking third entries increasing by 40%. Liverpool were in disarray. I saw Olise get the ball on the wing, and the System flashed an alert: [Opponent Weakness: Left Back - Low Composure (6/20)].
I cupped my hands around my mouth. "Olise! Take him on! He can't handle you!" He heard me. He received the ball, surrounded by two defenders, but he knew the full-back was weak.
A shimmy, a feint, a drop of the shoulder, and he was gone. He drove to the byline. I was screaming for the cross to Connor, but Olise, brimming with a newfound arrogance, had other ideas.
He saw the keeper shuffle to the near post and, from an impossible angle, he shot. A vicious, curling, dipping masterpiece that flew into the far corner.
3-2.
