A raw hush fell over the small Amsterdam arena as the second half kicked off. The Ajax supporters in the stands – here to scout their potential final opponents – were murmuring and relaxed, confident the Belgian side would dispatch the little Utrecht. A few Utrecht parents and fans clustered in one corner, draped in red and white, still singing "Utreg, t'mot!" (Utrecht, you must!) even as the score remained 0-1 against them.
On the pitch, Amani felt the weight of the moment pressing on his shoulders. They needed a win. Thirty minutes to save their tournament dreams on the group table. Every breath he drew was laced with the chill of early spring and the desperation of a team on the brink.
