Pro Debut!!!

The second half began with a renewed sense of purpose. The Fulham players had only one objective: they had to leave Stamford Bridge with the three points, meaning they had to see out this 2-0 first-half result.

{The second half is underway here at Stamford Bridge where Fulham are up 2-0 against Chelsea,} the voice of Martin Tyler, the commentator, boomed over the speakers.

The opening minutes of the second half were a whirlwind of activity. Chelsea's midfield, led by N'Golo Kanté, began to press higher up the pitch, disrupting Fulham's attempts to control the ball. Hazard, as expected, was the focal point of Chelsea's attacks, his quick feet and sharp movements slicing through Fulham's defense.

But Fulham were not backing down. Under Coach Anderson's watchful eye, they maintained their composure, keeping their shape and looking for opportunities to counter. Marcus, in particular, was keenly aware of his role. As Hazard danced around Fulham's defenders, Marcus kept his eye on the ball, ready to pounce if Chelsea left any gaps.

In the 55th minute, Chelsea won a corner. The tension in the stadium was palpable as Willian jogged over to take it. The Fulham players gathered in the box, their eyes locked on the ball. Willian whipped in a dangerous cross, but Fulham's goalkeeper, Sergio Rico, punched it clear, sending the ball flying toward the halfway line.

Marcus, who had positioned himself near the edge of the box, reacted quickly. He darted forward, collecting the loose ball with a deft touch. In an instant, he was off, sprinting down the field with the ball at his feet. The Chelsea defenders scrambled to get back, but Marcus was too fast, his legs pumping as he surged into Chelsea's half.

The counterattack was a blur of speed and precision, and Marcus knew that time was of the essence.

He kept his head up, scanning the field for his options. Harvey was making a run down the right, and Marcus knew this was his chance.

Just before reaching the halfway line, Marcus pushed the ball slightly ahead of him, intending to deliver a perfectly weighted pass to Harvey, who was tearing down the wing. But before he could execute the pass, he felt a presence closing in on him rapidly. It was N'Golo Kanté, Chelsea's relentless midfield engine.

Kanté timed his challenge to perfection. With a burst of speed and strength, he outmuscled Marcus off the ball, cleanly winning possession. The force of the tackle sent Marcus sprawling to the turf, the impact knocking the wind out of him.

Marcus lay on the ground for a moment, dazed, expecting to hear the referee's whistle blow. But it never came. Instead, the game continued, with Chelsea now in possession and launching an attack of their own.

From the sidelines, Coach Anderson had watched the entire sequence unfold. His eyes narrowed as he observed Kanté's challenge. It was clean, efficient, and exactly what made Kanté one of the best defensive midfielders in the world. Still, Anderson couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration. Marcus had been on the verge of unlocking Chelsea's defense with that pass to Harvey, but Kanté's intervention had shut it down before it could fully develop.

As Marcus picked himself up off the ground, dusting off the dirt from his kit, he caught sight of Kanté already moving the ball upfield, his small stature belying the immense impact he had on the game.

As N'Golo Kanté regained possession, Chelsea immediately shifted gears. Kanté's quick pass out to Jorginho initiated a swift and lethal transition. Fulham had committed numbers forward, sensing an opportunity to extend their lead, but now they were caught out of position.

Jorginho, with his usual composure, took one touch to control the ball and another to send a perfectly weighted pass to Mateo Kovačić, who was already surging into space on the left. Kovačić barely broke stride as he advanced up the pitch, Fulham's defense scrambling to get back.

On the far left side, Eden Hazard was lurking, waiting for his moment. Kovačić saw the opening and threaded a pass through the gap in Fulham's defense. Hazard, with his quick feet and unmatched acceleration, darted between the two center halves, collecting the ball with ease just outside the penalty area.

Fulham's keeper, Sergio Rico, rushed off his line, trying to close the angle, but Hazard was calm, his eyes locked on the goal. With a deft touch, he took the ball around Rico, and in one fluid motion, he slotted it into the back of the net.

The Stamford Bridge crowd erupted as the scoreboard shifted, the goal sending waves of blue jubilation through the stands. Chelsea's players raced towards Hazard, who stood with arms outstretched, basking in the glory of the moment.

{Eden Hazard is through here! It's one-on-one! Must be!}

{Goal! Chelsea!}

{Composure here at its finest! That reminds me of you in your prime, Alan,} the voice of Martin Tyler, the commentator for the match, sounded from the speakers but was drowned out by the voice of the fans down in the stands.

{Well, you're too kind, Martin, but yeah, great goal. He's shown great technique here,} Alan Smith, the co-commentator, said.

Meanwhile, the Fulham players could only watch in dismay. Their momentum, once in their favor, had been cruelly reversed in seconds. The danger of the counterattack had backfired, leaving them vulnerable to Chelsea's precise and deadly finishing.

Coach Anderson grimaced on the sidelines, his heart sinking as he watched the sequence unfold. It was a textbook counterattack, executed to perfection by Chelsea. The decision to push forward had left them exposed, and Hazard, with his world-class ability, had made them pay the ultimate price.

Marcus, still recovering from the challenge with Kanté, looked on as the ball hit the back of the net. He was frustrated, knowing his lost possession had caused his team to be punished.

The goal had shifted the dynamics of the match. Chelsea was back in it, their confidence surging, while Fulham was left to pick up the pieces. Anderson could see the deflation in his players' body language and knew it was up to him to reignite their fire. They had fought hard so far, and the game was far from over.

The celebrations ended as the players regrouped, and the referee blew his whistle; the match continued.