Chapter 59: The Dramatic Last-Minute Winner

With less than a minute left, Ghana earned a corner kick - their final opportunity to score. 

Every Brazilian player was on high alert, closely watching the Ghanaian players in the penalty area. Even Adriano, normally an attacker, had joined the defensive line to tightly mark Ghana's tall striker.

Kaka and Oliveira positioned themselves outside the penalty box, responsible for marking Ghana's two midfielders. However, unlike Oliveira, Kaka was prepared to sprint at any moment.

If Ghana scored, the game would be over. But if Brazil could regain possession, they would still have a slim chance to score themselves before the final whistle.

The corner kick was a nice arcing ball that went over most of the defenders and arrived right in front of the goal mouth, where both Brazilian and Ghanaian players converged, hoping to head it in.

The hopeful Ghanaian fans, who had been resigned to losing, suddenly felt a surge of anticipation that their team could equalize.

At that moment, while Oliveira tensely watched the ball, he noticed Kaka retreating back towards Ghana's half of the field. Kaka turned his body sideways, eyes fixed on the goal, moving in the opposite direction from the corner kick, ready to sprint at any second.

Adriano headed the ball away from danger towards the edge of the penalty area, where Baptista received it. 

"Here!" "To Kaka!" Kaka and Oliveira's voices echoed simultaneously.

Whether Baptista heard them through the noise of the crowd, shared a telepathic connection with Kaka, or simply wanted to clear the ball, he struck it firmly down the field towards Ghana's half.

The ball fell perfectly within the center circle, slightly towards Brazil's half, and Kaka had already begun sprinting. He reached the ball within two seconds and dribbled across the halfway line with it.

There was not a single player near him, let alone behind him to stop the counter-attack.

Everyone stood in stunned silence for a moment, then erupted in thunderous cheers, even the Argentine fans who had initially treated the match as just another game to watch.

Ghana's head coach also froze for a moment before rushing towards the fourth official, forcefully jabbing his watch and shouting, "Time's up! The match is over! Tell that Brazilian boy to stop! Make him stop running!"

The fourth official shielded himself from the spittle, wiped his face with one hand, and stared at the sprinting Kaka with an expression of disbelief, remaining silent and letting play continue.

In the broadcast footage, the ball suddenly disappeared off camera, and it took the camera operator three full seconds to locate Kaka's position downfield.

"Kaka! Kaka! Kaka! He has received the ball in his own half! He has legitimately taken advantage of the rules; he's not offside! There are no defenders around him! Ghana displayed admirable courage, but they will pay the price for their recklessness. This is a one-on-one battle between Kaka and the goalkeeper! In their previous encounter, the goalkeeper emerged victorious. Who will prevail this time?"

Who indeed? Only Kaka knew the answer.

Because he had seen this situation before, and Torres had provided the solution on how to score.

Kaka decided to copy Torres's actions, word for word, movement for movement.

His body was exhausted, despite his dedicated physical training. Over a hundred minutes of high-intensity play in extreme cold had left him feeling as if he needed every ounce of effort just to breathe.

If reality had a stamina bar for players, his would be reduced to a pitiful red sliver. 

Yet his mind was sharp, his spirit invigorated, so much so that his entire body had gone numb, mechanically executing the commands from his brain, allowing him to dribble and sprint swiftly.

This was a battle between willpower and flesh.

He couldn't hear any sounds due to the crowd's roar, but he knew the world would soon be cheering for him.

The goalkeeper clapped his hands together, crouched down like a hunting cheetah, fixating on the approaching Kaka.

Kaka didn't raise his head for an intense staredown, as portrayed in movies. Instead, he calmly dribbled into the penalty area, slowed his pace, feinted to his right, and with a gentle hop, evaded the goalkeeper's desperate lunge. He then coolly slotted the ball into the open net as the final whistle blew.

A last-second game-winning goal.

The Brazilian fans went absolutely berserk, as if a hand had finally been removed from their mouths and noses, allowing them to breathe freely and roar in celebration.

Kaka raised both hands towards the sky, gasping for breath as he ran to the sidelines and collapsed onto the ground, limbs spread out, unwilling and unable to move an inch after such a monumental effort.

On the sidelines, Coach Costanio's mind went blank with shock and relief. He had to be embraced by his assistant coaches to regain his senses after that dramatic finish.

Being the head coach of the national team was an immense responsibility. He couldn't fathom the shame and consequences of leading Brazil and failing to even reach the quarterfinals of the Youth World Cup.

A national disgrace and embarrassment? 

The thought sent shivers down his spine, but he had been granted a new lease on life with Kaka's winner.

Suddenly, he realized that perhaps the most crucial decision of his coaching career was watching that Champions League final live and seeing the tactics Kaka had now employed.

"Unbelievable! Simply unbelievable! Kaka has scored a last-minute winner against Ghana to keep Brazil alive! This is the first knockout match of the Youth World Cup under the new 'golden goal' rule, but even without it, Ghana would have had mere seconds left to equalize. They should not have taken such an attacking risk so late! Kaka missed a crucial penalty earlier but has now redeemed himself in the final moments."

"Let's watch the replay! Oh, my goodness! Look at Kaka's movement; this young man had planned his counterattack all along! Everyone else was thinking about defending the corner kick, but he was already planning to spring forward! Poor Ghana, they performed admirably throughout, but alas, there can only be one winner on the football pitch..."

The first teammate to reach the exhausted Kaka was Oliveira, but as he approached, he sensed something was amiss.

Kaka looked like a critically ill patient - his eyes vacant, his face pale, his breathing labored, as if he might pass out at any moment from exhaustion.

"What's wrong, Kaka?" Oliveira asked with concern.

"Nothing, just extremely tired. Let me lie here for a bit," Kaka replied faintly. 

"Lie down? Get up and celebrate with us!" Oliveira urged him.

Of course, their actual brief exchange was likely different, but the essence was similar.

Kaka managed to sit upright as his teammates surrounded him, his hair tousled into a messy nest from his all-out efforts.

The live audience in the stadium reacted with polite applause for the dramatic finish, except for a few delirious Brazilian fans going wild. Even for the Argentine supporters, applauding a Brazilian player was already a display of remarkable graciousness after such a hard-fought match.

For the countless Brazilians watching the live broadcast at home, however, the reaction was entirely different and more raucous.

A mere quarterfinal match against a capable but beatable team like Ghana should not have elicited such excitement from the whole country. But anyone who witnessed the full intensity of the match could appreciate how grueling and hard-fought this victory was for Brazil's youngsters.

Their triumph was not only a testament to their skill and athleticism, but also their willpower, intelligence, and never-say-die attitude - qualities worthy of immense pride and awe.

Kaka was no longer just a future star from São Paulo; he had announced himself on the world's biggest stage as Brazil's next great hope.

(end of chapter)