Beep!
After Emerson's pass was blocked, Kai immediately gestured toward the sidelines, signaling to Triguera for substitutions.
Specifically, he pointed at the two substitute center-backs—Altino and Orlando.
Triguera had been waiting for this signal for a long time.
But he needed Kai to confirm one thing first—that Rio Ave's players had completely lost any intention of resisting—before he dared to make such a radical change.
"Oh! Triguera is making two substitutions in a row—but why two center-backs?"
"It makes sense for Kirop to come off after picking up a yellow card, but Fonte is fine. Are they reinforcing defense with an extra center-back?"
"Wait—Altino is replacing the left-back Serafim. Although he's a center-back, he's done well at full-back this season. A real utility player."
"But Orlando… he's not replacing Kirop—he's replacing Flávio! What is going on?"
"Hold on! Fonte and Orlando are pushing forward?! Are they forming a front line with Anderson?"
"Cristiano Ronaldo on the left, Alex pushing high on the right… is this a FIVE-STRIKER setup?!"
"Emerson, Macedo, Kai…"
"Altino, Orlando… what the hell is this? A 2-3-5 formation?"
"Is Moreirense insane? What happens if they get countered?"
"Fonte once played as a striker and it worked—but I thought two target men was the limit. Now they're going with THREE?! This is madness!"
Triguera smiled.
Madness?
Heh.
As he had said before—passing the ball just to escape pressure in your own half is meaningless. Passive possession does nothing.
Counterattacks sound simple, but at this stage, they're extremely hard to execute.
And now?
Three players around 1.9 meters tall were waiting in the box.
Could Rio Ave really defend that with just three or four defenders?
If man-to-man marking was always enough, there would be no such thing as a parked bus.
Triguera was betting that Rio Ave's coach wouldn't dare take that risk.
But Moreirense?
They would.
82nd minute—
Alex whipped in a cross.
Three towering figures crashed into the box like a storm, hammering Rio Ave's defense.
83rd minute—
Rio Ave tried to press Kai again.
Kai turned smoothly, escaped the pressure, and immediately switched play with his left foot to the left flank.
Ronaldo had already pulled wide.
A quick feint.
A sharp cut.
He beat his man easily and delivered a cross.
The ball was high and slow—not ideal.
But with three aerial threats in the box?
It didn't matter.
Boom!
Kirop rose at the near post and flicked it on.
Anderson pinned his marker, creating space.
Fonte was free.
Boom!
Header!
GOAL!!!
"FONTE!!!"
"2–2! Moreirense equalize! They're still alive!"
"Anderson is already inside the net, grabbing the ball! They need ONE more goal!"
"At this scoreline, they're still only fourth—they cannot accept a draw!"
"This is why Rio Ave dropped deep earlier. Their advantage wasn't one goal—it was TWO!"
"At 2–1, even conceding once keeps them on top!"
"But now? If Moreirense score again, everything changes!"
"Still… time is running out. There's no extra 20–30 minutes left!"
If Rio Ave had any thoughts of counterattacking before—
They were gone now.
Less than ten minutes remained.
Survive.
That's all that mattered.
With Rio Ave refusing to push forward, Moreirense regained possession within seconds of kickoff.
Rio Ave fully collapsed into defense.
Meanwhile, Moreirense's three target men—plus Ronaldo on the left and Emerson—pushed high, waiting for crosses.
Altino, Orlando, Macedo, and Kai controlled midfield.
Kai passed to Alex—
Alex wanted to drive to the byline, but the defense was packed.
He passed back.
Kai delivered a 45-degree cross—
Cleared.
Kai switched to Macedo—
Blocked again.
At this moment, Moreirense's defense was dangerously exposed.
No one dared take risks or attempt dribbles.
Macedo played it safe—back to Kai.
Another 45-degree cross—
Deflected out.
Corner.
This was exactly why teams under siege prefer angled crosses over low byline balls.
A 45-degree crosser stays connected to midfield and defense.
Lose the ball? You can recover.
But lose it at the byline?
You're fucked—instant counterattack.
No need to name examples… everyone's seen it happen.
After that—
Three consecutive corners.
All wasted.
The closest chance came from one of Kai's inswinging corners, bending dangerously toward goal.
Too close to the keeper—easy to claim.
But if someone got there first?
It would be unstoppable.
Ronaldo knew.
A feint.
A sudden burst forward.
His head was less than ten centimeters from the ball—
Boom!
The goalkeeper punched it away.
No matter how high you jump, your head won't beat a keeper's hands.
That's why these corners rarely score.
90 minutes.
Time felt like poison, slowly killing Moreirense's hope.
They were still fighting—
But their bodies felt heavier, colder.
Everyone sensed it.
Something bad was coming.
93rd minute—
Kai and Alex played a quick free-kick routine.
Kai shifted the ball to the right edge of the box.
Risky.
Lose it here—and it's over.
And sure enough…
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