Football singularity

Chapter 312 312 Intermission

The score board shifted once more Hearts 1:2 Celtic followed by a primal roar erupting from the Celtic end of Hampden Park. It was deafening, a wall of noise that drowned out every other sound for a second no matter how loud. Rakim's name was on every fan's lips as his teammates rushed toward him, their faces beaming with pure joy and relief. Rakim's slide to the corner flag was a moment of pure euphoria for him as he felt adrenaline instantly flush his vein.

Slapping the corner flag the moment he reached it he jumped up in one fell swoop before performing his signature griddy. He felt the urge to pull off his shirt but luckily his teammates joined him in his celebrations each performing their own version of the Griddy. Putting an arm around Forrest and Edouard he shared his happiness with them a constant bright smile on his face.

"Thanks for missing that header pal," he told the French striker with a smile only to be pushed away in mock anger before the latter burst out in laughter. "I always leave a room at the table for my younger brother's." he retorted before reaching out to mess up Rakim's dreads, but the latter nimbly ducked that.

"hahaha, if you're out here setting chares, I must be the one delivering it on a plate," Lustig stated with a light laugh as he joined them clearly happy at getting an assist in the finals. He had honestly just been hoping for the best when he swung in the long ball not at all expecting his young teammate to pull out a goal out of nowhere. After all he had felt his chances go array when Édouard mis timed his jump close to the front post.

"If you keep serving them up, I'll keep eating them chef. a couple more of that we can take this thing on the road bro." Rakim told the 32 year old right back leaving him stupefied but grinning, nonetheless. "Just keep it up kid, Finals are only fun when your winning," he told him tightening the grip on his shoulder before jogging back to his half.

"You got Mr Rossenborg to talk congrats kid," Édouard told him with smile before also starting his job back. Not sure how to react Rakim simply smiled towards the fans who felt much further than usual with the track separating the pitch and stands. Waving one last time he quickly jogged back to his position passing by his teams bench meeting a smiling Lennon.

"Told you I felt good coach," he told the man ruffling his hair before making his getaway with speed. "Just stay focused," He heard the couch shout in agitation, but he could easily hear the happiness in the man's voice and was thus not chewed up for messing with the guys precious hair.

~~~

"Well folks I've said it once and I will say it again, Rakim Rex has blessed us again with a spectacular goal." Callum calmly said his voice resounding in Tv's all over the nation and beyond to those that tuned in. Despite sounding calm those that had heard him and Roy animatedly screaming into the mike as the winger score knew just how hyped he was.

"You saved my first attempt from long range ok, let me try from way up close and see what happens. In a matter of two touches of the ball has entered the history books of football as the youngest goal scorer of the Scottish cup and also the one with the least touches." Roy cemented sounding much more excited than Callum who seemed to be recovering from all the energy he had just expended.

"If you don't get the hype about this boy of just 15 yet then you probably never will folks," Callum stated with finality as the disheartened Heart's player's geared up to restart the match. The clock read [48] at this point and there wasn't much left to play for in this half, but the Hearts fans in particular felt like they were on a roller-coaster ride.

One moment they were gifted the lead with a penalty and in the next the unlucky Édouard took his luck by the horns and equalised the score sheet. If that wasn't enough their wonder kid hammered in a late goal after just two touches of the ball. Safe to say they were feeling all types of emotions and none of them were good.

(Fweet) MacLean calmly passed the back to Haring outside the centre circle, but before the midfielder could even figure out what to do with this hot potato a resounding whistle paused the game. (Fweet) (Fweeeeet) Two blows of the whistle and this confrontation was halted signalling the end of the first half.

The players began to file off the pitch, their jerseys clinging to their sweat-soaked bodies as they made their way towards the tunnel. Rakim exchanged a few fist bumps with his teammates, all while the Celtic fans were still chanting songs. The noise from the Celtic end of Hampden Park continued to echo through the stadium, as they took pride in their team taking the lead in the last moment of the half.

~~~

In the Hearts dressing room, their manager, Craig Levien, stood near the whiteboard with furrowed brows. He knew they had been outmanoeuvred in the last few minutes, and the halftime break was his only chance to get the team back on track.

"Alright, heads up, lads!" Levien barked, trying to inject some fire into his squad. "We're still in this. We did good defensively most of the game and were deadly on the counter, but our concentration dropped rapidly towards the end. Especially after they equalised, we started to panic and take more solo risks. We need to tighten up at the back. No more giving them space on the wings! And when we get the ball, let's make it count. One goal, and we're right back in this."

Meanwhile, the mood in the Celtic dressing room was a mix of joy and focussed as the players went through their half time routine. Some were changing into new boots, whilst others ate a slice of orange that the staff had prepared for them. Neil Lennon watching this scene simply smiled as he started fiddling about with the whiteboard.

He was pleased with how the half ended, especially with how the team fought back for the equaliser when they went behind. However, he knew that the game was far from over and he would need more from his players if he wanted to lift his first piece of silverware for his new club.

"First of all, lads, Good response out there, we went behind, but you all fought back hard eventually producing a goal." Lennon started, his voice calm but with an edge of intensity. "But don't think for a second that the job is done. We got ourselves back on top of this game, now we have to go out there and finish it. Keep the tempo up, keep pushing them. Rakim, Forrest keeps running those channels I want to see some of that creativity you're both famous for."

Both the wingers simply nodded in response as they chugged more of the water as they steadied their breath. Despite Rakim not playing for more than 4 minutes he was feeling the drop in adrenaline the most. With the impact he had having to rest for 15 minutes could change his entire approach to the game as his body would start to relax after just heating up. He wouldn't complain though as he'd rather play even in poor form than warm the bench.

Lennon paced in front of the whiteboard, his eyes scanning the room as he assessed each player's condition. "We've got them on the back foot now, but they'll come out strong. They'll look to press higher, force mistakes. I want to see composure. No rash passes. Stay sharp, stay focused."

He pointed to the defence. "Ajer, Boyata—organize yourselves. Hearts will target you with long balls, trying to catch us out. We can't afford any lapses in concentration, not now."

As he turned to face the midfield, Lennon paused for a moment. "McGregor, Brown—control the middle of the park. Hearts are dangerous when they hit on the break, but if we dominate possession, we can starve them of those chances. And don't hesitate to play direct when it's on."

Lennon finished his speech with one final call. "Let's finish this strong, lads. We're 45 minutes away from lifting that trophy. Go out there and make sure it's ours." As the players began to rise from their seats, Forrest nudged Rakim with a grin. "Looks like we've got more work to do, kid."

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To Be Continued....