Chapter 185: Five

Leonardo threw caution to the wind now. One goal down at home, with the entire San Siro shouting for a quick reaction, he pushed his full-backs into the attack and threw bodies forward.

Schalke dropped into a tight, low block and fought to hold the line. Neuer leaped through a crowded box to punch away a dipping free kick from Sneijder. Höwedes hurled his body sideways to block a venomous shot from Milito. The noise rushed back into the stadium like an ocean tide, the home fans roaring as if their players had finally woken up. For five frantic minutes, the tie looked like it might swing right back to Inter.

Then Farfán, hustling deep into his own half to help out, pinched the ball cleanly off Cambiasso by the touchline. He nudged a pass inside to Jones, who tapped it first time straight into Mateo’s path.

Mateo received the pass just inside his own territory with his back turned. He spun on his heel and looked up.

Inter had left the entire pitch behind them completely vacant.

They had committed so many players forward hunting for the equalizer that the green turf in front of him stretched open all the way to the edge of the box. Only two center-backs and the goalkeeper stayed back, with Zanetti scrambling across from the opposite side. Mateo saw the layout clearly, noticing the open lanes and spacing as if looking down at a board.

He kicked into high gear and drove forward.

Thiago Motta and Cambiasso closed in fast from both sides, trying to recreate the same trap that had locked him down during the opening half hour. But this time Mateo had room to maneuver, and the ball stayed glued to his boots.

He pushed the ball slightly left to bait Motta into lunging, then dragged it back with his sole the moment Motta committed his weight. The ball slipped under his studs and popped out to his other side while Motta’s momentum carried him harmlessly past. It was Iniesta’s classic La Croqueta, executed smoothly right in the center of the pitch.

Cambiasso stepped in next, trying to body him off the ball, but Mateo dipped his shoulder to the right, shifted his hips, and pushed the ball left. The veteran swung a leg at empty space, leaving Mateo clear and running into open territory.

Across the field, Zanetti saw the emergency and went down for a desperate sliding tackle, throwing everything into the challenge.

Mateo planted his right foot, shifted his weight, and hopped over the sweep of Zanetti’s legs. The Argentine captain slid across the grass, and Mateo was already past him.

Only Chivu and the goalkeeper stood between him and the net.

Chivu sprinted out to meet him, reading that the teenager would try to cut inside onto his favored right foot for a curl. Chivu shifted his weight to block that inside path. Mateo noticed the lean, faked the turn to freeze the defender, and quickly pushed the ball to the left with the outside of his boot. His change of direction was sharp and sudden. Chivu stumbled, reaching out with an arm that caught only air, and Mateo burst clean through on goal.

Júlio César charged off his line, making himself as wide as possible.

Mateo kept his cool. He waited out the keeper’s first small step, gave a tiny shoulder drop to fake toward the far corner, and then clipped a low, crisp strike right inside the near post before César could drop his knee.

The ball snapped into the side netting.

SWISH!

Schalke were 3-1 up.

The San Siro fell dead silent.

Eighty thousand people had just watched an eighteen-year-old collect the ball in his own half and slice clean through five experienced Inter players before rolling a calm finish into the corner. For three seconds, nobody moved. The only sound in the ground came from the small away corner, where several hundred Schalke fans were screaming their heads off.

Then the home crowd did something extraordinary.

A scattered clap started in the lower tiers, spread through the middle deck, and quickly swelled across the stadium. The Italian supporters stood up and gave a warm round of applause to the young midfielder who was tearing their team apart.

Over on the Inter bench, Leonardo grabbed his head with both hands, staring up at the stadium screen as the replay rolled. He had prepared his squad to stop a calm, deep-lying passer, and he had just watched a kid glide through his entire defense like a seasoned winger.

Mateo skipped any big celebration. He ran over to the corner flag, letting the traveling fans lean over the railings to slap his shoulders. Farfán caught up and hopped onto his back, grinning through a bandaged nose, while Jones and Vardy arrived to wrap him in a quick hug.

Mateo trotted back to the halfway line while the clapping from the stands slowly died down. He kept his eyes on the turf, letting the applause wash over him.

A two-goal lead away from home was huge, but Inter were going to throw everything forward now in pure desperation. Leaving that much space open behind them meant the counter-attacks were there for the taking, but it also meant weathering one final storm before the final whistle.

Hey guys, just a quick reminder that our bonus event is still active: We came really close last week, but didn’t quite make it, so let’s try again this week. Let’s see if we can unlock it! Enjoy the read!