The Greatest of all Time

Chapter 703  Alisson’s Punch and Liverpool’s Surge

Hoping to catch Liverpool off guard, City rushed to take the corner quickly. David Silva jogged over and swung a dangerous ball into the crowded penalty area.

The ball looped through the air, spinning viciously as both sets of players battled to win the aerial duel. Bodies clashed in the box, arms jostled for position, and for a split second, it seemed like City might capitalize. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

But Liverpool's towering presence in goal, Alisson Becker, was having none of it. With a leap that showcased his incredible reflexes and command of the area, Alisson surged forward, punching the ball clear of the penalty box and away from immediate danger.

As the ball soared out of the crowded box, it landed near the left side of the pitch where Sadio Mane, alert and ever-predatory, was already in position. Mane's eyes lit up, his instincts kicking in as he sprinted toward the loose ball.

The City defense, still trying to regain their shape after the corner, wasn't prepared for what came next.

Mane controlled the ball with a deft touch, turning sharply and accelerating down the wing with a burst of speed that sent Liverpool's fans into a frenzy.

He glanced up, immediately spotting Mohamed Salah cutting in from the right and Zachary Bemba charging through the center, both making aggressive runs into City's half.

It was the perfect scenario for Klopp's counter-attacking philosophy: City, disorganized and spread too thin, were about to feel the full force of Liverpool's transition play.

Mane surged forward like a bullet train, his feet moving like a blur as he darted past Kyle Walker, City's right-back, who had rushed forward for the corner and was now desperately trying to recover. But Mane was too fast, too sharp, and in a blink, he had already cut inside toward the center of the pitch.

Just as Walker caught up, Mane sent a low, quick pass toward Salah, who had positioned himself near the edge of City's penalty area.

Salah, marked closely by Laporte, had little time to maneuver, but the Egyptian Footballing King showed his intelligence, using a simple feint to draw Laporte in before cushioning the ball back to Zachary, who had sprinted into a dangerous pocket of space at the top of the box.

Zachary, always a few steps ahead of the defense, knew exactly what to do. As the ball arrived at his feet, he glanced up.

Manchester City's defense was scrambling, but none of them had positioned themselves well enough to stop him. He could see Salah making a run to his right, Mane on his left, and the disorganized City backline was too late to recover.

Instead of passing again, Zachary took the ball in stride and, with one fluid movement, slipped past the lunging Fernandinho. The Brazilian had committed himself too soon, and Zachary's first touch glided past him, leaving him off balance.

In that moment, Anfield collectively held its breath.

Now just inside the box, with space opening up, Zachary had a clear view of goal. He could hear the roar of the crowd urging him forward, feel the energy of the stadium rising like a wave, but he kept his focus on the task at hand.

Ederson, City's goalkeeper, rushed off his line, trying to close the gap.

Zachary didn't hesitate. He took one more step and struck the ball cleanly with his left foot, sending it low and hard toward the bottom corner.

Ederson stretched, but the ball was perfectly placed, just out of his reach. It kissed the inside of the post and rolled into the net.

For a moment, there was a stunned silence. Then Anfield exploded.

The roar was deafening, a wall of noise that seemed to shake the very foundations of the stadium. Fans leaped from their seats, arms raised in triumph, as red scarves twirled above heads like banners of victory.

Zachary was immediately mobbed by his teammates—Salah, Mane, Firmino, all rushing toward him, their faces lit with pure joy. They had executed a perfect counterattack, and now, Liverpool were 2-0 up in just the 12th minute.

Zachary felt his heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he high-fived Mane and embraced Salah.

The celebrations were wild but controlled—there was still a long way to go, but this was a statement. Liverpool were here to dominate, and City, for all their brilliance, had been sliced apart by the Reds' sheer pace and precision.

Klopp, on the sideline, was all grins. He jumped, fists pumping in the air as he turned to the Kop, whipping them into an even louder frenzy.

His plan was working perfectly—press City hard, force mistakes, and hit them on the break. So far, it was Liverpool at their very best.

Across the pitch, Pep Guardiola stood motionless for a moment, his arms folded tightly against his chest. His brow furrowed as he processed what had just happened. His team had been caught cold, and now they were two goals down. He shouted instructions to his players, urging them to stay calm and regroup, but the damage had been done.

As the game restarted, Manchester City still came out with renewed aggression, showcasing their unwavering team spirit even while two goals down.

Guardiola's team, known for their resilience and ability to dominate possession, weren't about to roll over. They pushed higher up the pitch, trying to wrestle control away from Liverpool.

De Bruyne, frustrated by the early goals, dropped even deeper to dictate play, while Sterling and Mahrez hugged the touchlines, looking to stretch Liverpool's defense.

In the 18th minute, City nearly pulled one back. De Bruyne found space in midfield and threaded a perfect ball through to Sergio Agüero, who darted between Van Dijk and Gomez. Agüero's first touch was immaculate, setting him up for a shot just inside the box.

The City fans held their breath, waiting for the net to bulge. But Alisson, quick off his line, rushed out to meet the Argentine striker, closing the angle brilliantly.

Agüero fired low, but Alisson got down quickly, making a crucial save with his legs. The ball ricocheted out to Mahrez, who tried to curl it into the far corner, but Van Dijk, as calm as ever, threw himself in front of the shot, blocking it with his chest before clearing the danger.

The City fans groaned again, their frustration growing. Another opportunity had slipped away, and Liverpool's defense remained impenetrable.

After that, the tempo of the game remained frantic, with City desperately trying to claw their way back into the match. But Liverpool's defense, led by Van Dijk and the tireless Joe Gomez, was resolute. They blocked crosses, intercepted passes, and nullified Agüero's threat. Every time City found space, there was a red shirt closing it down.

Zachary, in midfield, was a constant thorn in City's side. He pressed high, forcing City's midfielders into mistakes, and when Liverpool had possession, he was always looking to drive forward, creating opportunities for Salah and Mane to exploit. His energy was infectious, and his ability to glide past defenders made him one of the most dangerous players on the pitch.

City, despite their best efforts, couldn't find a way through. The whistle blew for halftime with the scoreline still 2-0 in favor of Liverpool.

Anfield blew up with excitement, the fans standing and applauding as the players walked off the pitch. Liverpool had dominated the first half, but everyone knew that City, wounded and angry, would come back stronger in the second.

In the Liverpool dressing room, the energy was still intense despite the lead. The players were elated with their performance, but they also knew that the job wasn't done yet. Klopp, his face flushed with excitement, stood in the middle of the room, his voice booming with intensity.

"We played a good game!" Klopp said, pacing back and forth, his eyes alight with passion. "Our press was good and our counterattacking lethal. We've got them on the ropes, but listen, we can't let up now. They're going to come at us even harder in the second half, and we have to be ready."

Klopp gestured toward the tactical board, where City's formation was drawn out. "They're going to try to push more players forward, try to get De Bruyne and Silva on the ball more. We can't give them space. Zachary, Gini, Hendo—you've been brilliant so far, but we need more of that intensity. Close them down, stop them from dictating the play."

Zachary nodded, his mind sharp and focused. He had played a key role in the first half, and he knew his work was far from over.

Klopp's eyes scanned the room, locking onto each player. "Sadio, Mo, Bobby—we hit them on the counter again, and they're done. When they push forward, there will be gaps. Be ready to exploit them."

The players listened intently, their faces determined. Klopp's words were like fuel, igniting their desire to finish what they had started.

"Remember," Klopp continued, his voice growing softer but more intense. "Anfield is our home, our fotress, and nobody comes here and takes points from us. Go out there, finish the job, and make our fans proud."

The players stood, ready for battle once more. Zachary, lacing up his boots again, felt the fire in his chest burning even brighter. The job wasn't done, but they were halfway there.