Lukas heard it, split second, and squared it across.
Perfect weight. Perfect roll.
Ekitike met it first time just inside the penalty box.
No settling touch. No hesitation.
BANG.
Keeper beaten. Stadium rising—
THUD.
Crossbar.
It came down violently and bounced outward.
Andres Cordero:
"WHAT a counterattack — WHAT a miss!"
Ekitike immediately crouched, hands gripping his head.
Toppmöller threw his arms down on the edge of the technical area, pacing away in disbelief.
Lukas simply turned and sprinted back toward the ball, emotionless — eyes hard.
João whistled under his breath.
"You can't miss those," he muttered.
