Chapter 205: [205] "What are you doing"
The Nantaise left-back didn’t waver at whatever Gabriel thought he was trying to do with those stepovers. The defender kept his eyes anchored firmly on Gabriel’s waist, ignoring the frantic movement of the cleats.
Up in the executive suite, Luc Beaumont shifted. "He’s going to force it."
Gabriel nudged the ball forward with the outside of his boot, attempting to rely purely on his explosive acceleration to blow past his marker. But he had telegraphed the movement. The Nantaise defender anticipated the touch instantly. He stepped firmly across the Brazilian’s path, lowered his center of gravity, and delivered a perfectly legal shoulder barge.
The impact sent Gabriel stumbling off balance. His cleats slipped against the turf as he went down, waving his arms toward the referee in complaint.
The defender didn’t look back. He collected the loose ball and played a simple, grounded pass back to his goalkeeper, who immediately cleared it high up the pitch.
Down on the touchline, Coach Henri dropped his chin to his chest. The manager let out a long ant visible sigh, staring at the grass near his dress shoes. Though, he didn’t shout or gesture toward the bench.
"He hasn’t learned a single thing," Luc exclaimed, his voice cutting sharply through the quiet controlled air of the owner’s box.
Valérie Laurent took a slow sip of her sparkling water, watching the replay of the dispossession on the monitor above them. "Then why is he still on the pitch? Henri pulled him without hesitation before for exactly this type of behavior."
Luc watched Gabriel pick himself up from the grass, still complaining to the official who was already jogging back upfield.
"Because Henri is giving him the exact same freedom he gives Bachra," Luc explained, leaning his forearm forward. "If you sub a winger every time they fail a one-on-one, you destroy their confidence completely. Wingers need to take risks. Henri is letting him exhaust his selfish options. He’s allowing Gabriel the freedom to fail, up to a point. If he doesn’t adjust his decision-making soon, he’ll be on the bench by halftime."
The match ground forward.
Olympique Nantaise grew increasingly comfortable in their low block. The away side maintained two rigid, compressed banks of four, sitting incredibly deep within their own defensive third. They had no intention at all of contesting possession in the midfield. When they won the ball, they simply launched it toward the halfway line, forcing SC Valois to restart their buildup from scratch.
The tactical adjustments caused by Tomáš Blažek’s absence were taking a severe toll.
Pinto stood securely inside his six-yard box, refusing to sweep high. To protect the backup goalkeeper from balls over the top, Leo Hernandez and Amadou Fall were anchored deeper than their usual starting positions.
Klaus Becker and Bense Baini. The double pivot was running relentlessly. When a Nantaise clearance fell to Hernandez, Klaus had to sprint backward to offer a passing option, then immediately turn and sprint forty yards forward to support the attack.
Minute twenty-five.
Baini received a pass from Zack Florez near the left touchline. The Moroccan midfielder looked exhausted, his lungs burning from the lateral shifting. He tried to thread a pass through the center toward Hugo Blanc, but the passing lanes were suffocated. Three Nantaise shirts instantly converged on the teenager the moment the ball moved in his direction.
Hugo was forced to play a one-touch pass backward to Klaus just to retain possession.
The stadium volume dipped into a restless murmur. The home supporters watched their team dominate and their possession was now up to a whooping seventy percent of the ball without registering a single shot on target.
Minute thirty-one.
Gabriel Assis received the ball on the right flank. Again, he was isolated against the Nantaise left-back. The Brazilian squared his shoulders. Instead of attempting a step-over, he dropped his right shoulder and tried to muscle his way toward the byline to force a cross.
The defender held his ground, forcing Gabriel to take the ball too close to the corner flag. The resulting cross lacked elevation and power, slamming into the shins of the nearest Nantaise center-back and deflecting out for a throw-in.
In the center of the penalty area, Idriss Konaté threw his hands up in the air. The Ivorian striker was spending his entire afternoon with two massive central defenders, only to be receiving terrible service.
"Look up!" Idriss roared, pointing at his own feet.
Gabriel ignored him, jogging back to the touchline to take the throw.
"He’s playing against himself right now," Valérie noted, watching the winger’s frustrated body language.
"He feels erased," Luc said. "He watched Bachra get the assists and play really well. He watched the squad’s kids put three past Aquitaine. He thinks he has to score a solo goal to prove he belongs in the starting eleven. But against a block this deep, individual runs just end in turnovers."
Minute thirty-six.
Kévin Aubert pushed high up the right side, offering an overlapping run. He passed the ball to Gabriel and sprinted toward the corner flag, trying to drag the Nantaise left-back away.
Gabriel ignored the overlap yet again. He cut inside onto his left foot, attempting to weave through three defenders to find a shooting angle. The ball was instantly stripped from his laces by a Nantaise holding midfielder.
The away side cleared the ball into the stands.
Coach Henri stepped to the absolute edge of his technical area. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest. He didn’t say a word, but his glare directed at the Brazilian winger was lethal.
"One more mistake," Luc muttered, tracking the manager’s posture. "He gets one more chance before Henri tells someone else to warm up."
The clock on the stadium screens ticked past the fortieth minute.
The rain held off, but the tension inside Stade Valois was still as suffocating without that needed goal. Zero-zero against a team fighting relegation. The math of the Golden Boot race gnawed at the back of Luc’s mind.