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Chapter 98 - Chapter 98: Norway vs Romania!

Theodore wanted to head straight back to the hotel, but Reba dragged him to a late-night cinema to watch Avengers: Endgame instead.

He didn't put up much of a fight, even though he had already seen it countless times in his past life.

Thanks to the dark theater, they managed to enjoy the movie in peace without being swarmed again.

By the time Theodore finally got back to his hotel, it was past 1 AM.

The next morning, he and his parents took a train back to his dad's hometown to visit relatives.

He had planned to spend the week relaxing in China, but his vacation was cut brutally short.

The Norwegian FA sent him a formal call-up for the third round of the Euro qualifiers.

They were set to play Romania and the Faroe Islands in early June, and head coach Lars Lagerbäck wanted him in the squad.

...

Two days later, Theodore was on a flight back to Oslo, leaving Dongguo and Marianne in China to enjoy the rest of their trip.

On May 28th, Theodore reported for national team duty.

Lagerbäck was the first to pull him aside.

"Theo, congratulations on the FA Cup and the Championship. I watched the final, and you were brilliant. If you can bring even half of that club form to this squad, we're walking out of the group stages."

"Don't worry, Boss," Theodore said confidently. "We've already won our last two and beaten the hardest teams in the group. Qualification is a lock."

Lagerbäck frowned, his tone turning sharp. "Don't get cocky, son. Football doesn't work like that. Romania is ranked 25th in the world right now, and they are in red-hot form. Four wins, a draw, and a loss in their last six. You absolutely cannot take them lightly."

Theodore straightened up, dropping the bravado. "Understood, Boss. I'll be ready."

Out on the training pitch, Martin Ødegaard and Erling Haaland were already knocking a ball back and forth.

"Oi, Erling, look who decided to show up," Ødegaard shouted, pointing across the grass. "The FA Cup champion is in the building."

Haaland spun around, a massive grin splitting his face. "Theo! Get your ass over here, man, I've missed you."

Theodore jogged over, lacing up his boots. "Why the hell are you guys out here so early? Session doesn't start until one."

"The club season is done, mate," Haaland laughed, throwing an arm around Theodore. "We came in early to keep the legs sharp. Congrats on the Double, by the way. You tore the league apart."

"You're not doing too bad yourself," Theodore fired back, shoving Haaland's shoulder. "Winning the Austrian Bundesliga and playing Champions League football next season? You're way ahead of me."

Haaland waved it off, looking slightly embarrassed. "Ah, the team winning the title didn't have much to do with me at the end. Didn't play much in the final stretch. Let's just drop it and focus on the national team, yeah? Come on, let's get a rondo going."

During the afternoon drills, Lagerbäck deliberately grouped Theodore, Ødegaard, and Haaland together.

The veteran manager knew that if Norway was going to break down a tough Romanian side, he needed his three brightest young stars on the exact same wavelength.

...

With about a week left until the match against Romania, Lars Lagerbäck and his coaching staff had ample time to drill their tactics.

After the first two European Championship qualifiers, the manager had already nailed down his preferred starting eleven.

During the training sessions leading up to the match, the young trio of Theodore Bjorn, Martin Ødegaard, and Erling Haaland were consistently running with the first team.

Despite the squad still relying heavily on seasoned veterans, Lagerbäck was gambling on the younger generation to force a much-needed rebuild.

He knew well that the future of Norwegian football rested squarely on their shoulders.

...

June 8, 2019, finally arrived.

The crucial Euro qualifier between Norway and Romania was hours away, and the home ground of Ullevaal Stadium was already vibrating with energy.

By three in the afternoon, the stands were packed with a sea of red and blue, the fans buzzing with anticipation.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away in a rural village outside Chongqing, China, Xia Dongguo was wrestling with the television remote.

He finally found the English sports stream and shouted over his shoulder, "Get the beers and pull up a chair, it's starting!"

Since Dongguo and Marianne Bjorn hadn't flown back to Oslo yet, they were forced to watch their son's international match on a dodgy screen.

When Dongguo realized he could get a live broadcast of the game, he had invited half the village over to the family home to watch.

On the screen, the familiar, dramatic voice of English commentator Martin Tyler echoed through the cramped living room.

"Welcome to Oslo everyone, for what promises to be a gripping third round of the European Championship qualifiers. Norway hosts Romania tonight under the lights."

"Currently, the home side sits top of the group with six points after a flawless start, while Romania trails in second with four points."

"Let's look at how the two sides line up. Lars Lagerbäck has opted for a traditional 4-4-2 tonight. In goal, we have thirty-year-old Grytebust, currently plying his trade for Odense. He's protected by a solid back four consisting of Elabdellaoui, Nordtveit, Ajer, and Aleesami."

"Across the middle, it's a dynamic midfield quartet: Ødegaard, Sander Berge, the Aston Villa sensation Theodore Bjorn, and Selnaes. Up top, leading the line, Haaland pairs with Elyounoussi."

"For the visitors, Cosmin Contra sets his men up in a 4-2-3-1. Tătărușanu starts between the sticks, anchored by Toșca, Grigore, Săpunaru, and Chipciu. Stanciu and Anton sit deep as the double pivot, with Grozav, Coseru, and Deac operating behind the lone striker, George Pușcaș."

As Tyler read out the names, the broadcast cut to the tunnel where the players were lining up.

As always, Theodore was the last man out.

"There he is, look," Dongguo yelled, pointing a rough finger at the screen. "That's my boy, he's starting."

The relatives crowded around the television, squinting at the feed.

"Hell, he's gotten tall, hasn't he?"

"I heard he's a massive star over in England now, the sports blogs won't shut up about him."

"He really did us proud."

...

At three-thirty, the referee blew the whistle to get the match underway.

Norway, spurred on by the roaring home crowd, launched the first attack.

Haaland tapped the ball back from the center circle, rolling it directly into Ødegaard's path.

But the moment Ødegaard took a heavy touch with his left foot, the Romanian midfield collapsed on him like a pack of wolves.

Grozav, Coseru, and Stanciu swarmed the Real Madrid youngster in a vicious, aggressive press that caught him entirely off guard.

He had no time to breathe, let alone pick a pass, and the ball was stripped in a heartbeat.

"And Romania wins the ball back straight away," Tyler commentated, his voice rising in tempo.

"Ødegaard caught dwelling on the ball, and you have to admire the sheer ferocity of this Romanian press from the first whistle."

Watching from the living room, Dongguo cursed under his breath.

The situation looked bleak right out of the gate.

Romania immediately drove the counter-attack to the edge of the Norwegian box.

Grozav, the thirty-year-old Várda playmaker, was driving forward with real intent. However, as he reached the eighteen-yard line, he ran out of ideas.

Nordtveit and Berge had already tracked back and choked off the passing lanes.

"Grozav looking for an opening... he's forced to turn back. He recycles possession to Coseru."

"Coseru floats a dangerous ball straight into the mixer!"

The cross bypassed the defense, dropping perfectly for Pușcaș.

The Romanian striker took it in stride and unleashed a venomous shot!

The ball kissed the outside of the right post and hammered into the advertising boards.

"Oh, inches away!" Tyler roared through the speakers. "Pușcaș nearly silences the Ullevaal Stadium in the opening minute! He dragged it just wide, but what a golden opportunity for the visitors."

Tyler let the stadium's collective sigh of relief swell over the broadcast before adding, "The young striker shares a name with the legendary Hungarian Ferenc Puskás, but he'll be kicking himself for not finding the back of the net there."

Goal kick to Norway.

Instead of launching it long, Grytebust played it short to his defenders. Two quick passes later, the ball found its way to Theodore's feet.

The second he took his first touch, the stadium erupted. The roar from the Norwegian supporters was visceral, a wave of raw anticipation crashing through the stands.

Tens of thousands of fans were desperate for their new star to orchestrate something brilliant.

Theodore didn't hesitate.

The moment the ball arrived, he fired a simple, direct, line-breaking pass forward, instantly shifting the momentum!

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