Chapter 85 - The FA Cup Final had begun.
10th Minute — Left Wing, Wembley
Valverde barely looked before threading the line-breaking pass——a low bullet down the left channel.
Nathan was already on the move. Touch tight. Pace perfect.
Thud!
He killed the ball with the outside of his boot and lifted his head.Grealish in front of him. Bernardo Silva sliding in to help. Walker closing the angle.
Three men.
Nathan's pulse quickened—but not from fear.
From instinct.
Tap. Tap-tap.A feint left. He burst right.
"HAAH!"
Grealish was gone.
Bernardo lunged—swipe!—but Nathan danced over his foot, clipped the ball behind him, then spun into a roulette that cracked through both remaining gaps—
Whirr—ZIP!
Walker reached for him—but only caught air.
Nathan broke through, the ball glued to his foot like magic, and swung a cross with his weaker foot—
"Zirkzee!"
The striker leapt, twisted—
BOOM!
Header!
It flashed just wide of the post.
"OHHHHHHH!!!"
The crowd gasped as one.
