Rise of a Football God

"Do you think we can't win?" Coach Marco Silva confronted his players as soon as they were in the dressing room during half-time.

"Come on guys!" He clapped. "We can do this!"

"Let's shock them, let's stun them, let's make them remember and learn to dread us!"

"Let's go out there and score a goal!"

"Come on!"

Coach Marco Silva's little team talk left the blood of his players boiling as they came out for the 2nd half, and it was the same mood in the Chelsea team.

Enzo Maresca seemed to have promised them heaven and earth because the Chelsea players came out of the tunnel with a fire burning in their eyes.

FWEEEE!

When the referee's whistle sounded, this game continued, with even more fire, more venom, and more intensity.

The second half was even more chaotic than the first as both teams showed their desperation, wanting to get a goal first.

In this second half, offensively, 2 players remained the standout, Cole Palmer and Sam as every other player was no more than support to them. The intensity of this game was too much for them to thrive.

It was a war on the pitch.

The little flicks from Cole Palmer, the body feints, the tight-control and dribbling, the flair, attracting dangerous challenges from the Fulham players as they started slowly accumulating yellow cards.

Every time that the ball touched his leg and he moved with it, the away fan section felt like they would die of anxiety.

The same applied for the Chelsea fans, caused by Sam.

While Cole Palmer's game had more flair to it and was more refined, Sam's game was more brutal and direct, straight to the point.

His was the mazy runs, the powerful outbursts of speed, the nutmegs, the silky elasticos, the powerful shoulder shoves in a display of physicality, and then the occasional long range piledriver that stung Robert Sanchez's gloves, Sam played like an absolute tank, a gladiator.

Every time that he had the ball close to the Chelsea 18-yard box, the Chelsea defense moved, scrambling backward in response to his movements.

This game was exciting, far too exciting, the Chelsea and Fulham fans were bearing witness to a game for the ages.

Another impressive figure in this game as the second half wore on was Enzo Fernandez. Settling into his mojo, the Argentine international seemed to transform into a prime Toni Kroos, mounting in the base of the Chelsea midfield like a fortress.

And from that point, he sprayed pin-point passes left and right around the pitch, both short and long ones with deadly accuracy, dictating Chelsea's tempo and aiding Cole Palmer's brilliance.

With him taking care of the control part though, there was another teammate of his that protected the defense, most especially when Fulham's Zinedine Sam went on his marauding runs.

This game, the Ecuadorian International, Moises Caicedo was like the impenetrable ancient wall of China.

Aggressive, physical, and skilled, Moises Caicedo played like a monster.

He jumped into tackles with gusto, not scared of diving into sliding tackles just to win the ball back. He was Sam's greatest bane this game even as Sam torched him a few times already.

So long as Fulham didn't score yet though, Moises Caicedo was satisfied, Sam could torch and humiliate him how many times he wanted.

This game was a masterpiece!

Despite all the excitement though, despite all the chances that were created, despite the individual brilliance in display, by the 70th minute of this game, the game remained a goalless draw.

It was crazy, far too crazy to be real.

By the 75th minute, it seemed like this game was going to be a straight draw when after relentless pressure all game, Cole Palmer went on another of his dizzying runs and this time, an unlikely opponent brought him down close to the Fulham 18-yard box.

Hot-headed from 75 minutes of non-stop action, in the zone state, Sam could not hold himself as tracking back, he slid in, tripping Cole Palmer just outside the box.

FWEEEE!

The referee gave Sam a yellow card, awarding a freekick to Chelsea.

"BOOOO…!" A loud chorus of boos resounded from the Chelsea fans again as they directed their hate at the Fulham superstar.

Jumping to his feet, Sam extended a hand to help Cole Palmer up only for the Englishman to slap his hand aside, helping himself up.

"…!" For a moment, Sam felt like a switch just sparked inside of him as he lost his head.

That moment in this game almost caused a fight on the pitch as the referee had to give 2 more yellow cards before the players from both sides who got involved were separated and pacified.

That near fight only increased the tension in this game. And in that tension was when Cole Palmer stood before the ball to take the freekick.

Taking a deep breath, the Englishman took a look at goal and after the referee's whistle, he went on an angled run, then…

BAM!

With his lethal left foot, he kicked the ball, curling it past the wall of Fulham players as it honed towards the top left corner like a missile.

Bernd Leno dived after the ball but after saving his team so many times this game already, for the first time, this goalkeeper failed to be superman.

The ball tore its way into the net.

"…!" There was a brief silence of disbelief in Stamford Bridge, and then…

"GOALLLLLLLLLL…!!!" Stamford Bridge erupted.

"PALMERRRRRR!!!" The commentator roared.

"What a goal! What a freekick! What a befitting way to score the only goal of the most exciting game of the season!"

"Cold Palmer strikes again!"

"This boy has got ice in his veins!"

With sweat all over his face, Cole Palmer jogged towards the corner flag, doing his iconic shivering celebration as Stamford Bridge worshipped him.

While Chelsea celebrated, Fulham was devastated.

After playing such a great game for 78 minutes, matching Chelsea's intensity at every turn, in the end, Cole Palmer's brilliance did them in.

They finally understood what their opponents felt when Sam created his moments of magic, it was just too unfair.

But then…

'Win!' 'Win!' 'Win!'

The devil in a certain boy's head was already turning rabid, slowly turning him into a devil incarnate on the pitch.

There was still 12 minutes of normal time.

To the devil incarnate at this moment, that was more than enough time!