When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 54: Magician is Magician, Number Seven is Number Seven (Please continue reading!)

April 23, 2003, Nice, apartment.

Roy sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of the sofa, holding a half-eaten apple in his hand.

The television screen reflected in his pupils; ESPN's pre-match camera was sweeping across the Old Trafford dressing room tunnel, Beckham's blond hair shining brightly under the lights.

"Huh! A substitute?"

He popped the apple into his mouth, making a crunching sound, and muttered, "That old fox, Ferguson."

When the final whistle blew, Real Madrid lost 3-4 to Manchester United away, but still advanced to the semi-finals with a 6-5 aggregate score. Their opponent will be Juventus.

Real Madrid and Manchester United put on a classic Champions League match, with Ronaldo scoring a hat-trick to give Real Madrid the lead three times.

Van Nistelrooy extended his record for most goals in a single Champions League season to 12, with Beckham coming on as a substitute.
In the 71st minute, when the crescent moon slashed through the night sky, Roy's breath hitched.

In slow motion, his pupils contracted as the ball spun.
"That curve, that's fucking amazing!"

He recalled the terrible free kick he took in training yesterday.

The image of the ESPN commentator's roar on TV still echoes in my mind: "Beckham in the most Beckham way!"

When the score of 4-3 exploded on the screen in the 84th minute, Roy remained silent.

When Beckham's second goal slammed into the net, the roar of Old Trafford suddenly went silent for half a second.

Roy's gaze was fixed on Beckham's figure as he ran to celebrate.

"Coming on as a substitute, scoring two goals, making headlines worldwide—that's commercial value."

The camera suddenly cuts to Ferguson, who is standing at the edge of the technical area, raising his hand to touch the tip of his reddened nose.

The broadcast director cruelly gave a close-up: the old man's gray-blue eyes seemed to reflect Beckham's sprinting figure, blinking rapidly three times, as if saving a last document before forcibly shutting down the computer.

Roy suddenly burst out laughing: "How many bottles of hairspray will Real Madrid's locker room need next season?"

After the match, Beckham briefly hugged his opponent Roberto Carlos, then exchanged jerseys with Zidane. The Frenchman, in his famously deep voice, asked almost like a spell: "Will you come to Real Madrid and play with me?"

Beckham then wrapped Zidane's jersey around his waist, shirtless, and slowly walked to the center circle of the stadium, clapping to the spectators in the stands on all four sides.

Although this was merely a publicity stunt by Beckham as a public figure, and Beckham has always been adept at such stunts, fans were still deeply moved by his actions.

As Beckham finally left the pitch and walked toward the players' tunnel, all the fans chanted in unison:

There is only one Beckham in the whole world!

These fans may be worried that Beckham may have already stamped his passport with his own seal on it for his trip to Spain.

"What will the newspapers write tomorrow? That we've cut off our own arm? That we've sold the English brand to the Spanish?"

Smoke drifted slowly through the gaps in the blinds, cutting the afternoon sunlight into blurry strips.

Manchester United CEO David Gill's cigar burned silently, and three extinguished cigarette butts had already piled up in the ashtray.

Ferguson sat at the end of the long table, his knuckles pressed against his temples, his gaze fixed on the newspapers spread out on the table: they all said that Ferguson's move was "suicidal," and the heavy price he would pay was not only losing the qualification for the competition, but more importantly, losing the soul of English football.

—“Beckham was actually placed on the bench!”

Chief scout Jim Lawler sat behind stacks of scouting notes, while Bobby Charlton sat in the shadows by the window, his hands folded on his knees. His gaze pierced through the smoke and landed on the black-and-white photograph of the "Busby Babes" on the wall; seven of them had died in Munich.

(Busby Babes: Young players developed by Sir Matt Busby)

Assistant coach Queiroz was temporarily removed from the advisory group due to his similar ambiguous relationship with Real Madrid.

“Listen, David’s transfer fee is £3000 million. Maybe £3500 million, enough for us to rebuild half of our midfield.”

Ferguson slammed his fingers on the table.

"But the problem has never been money! The problem is..."

Who will replace David?

Ferguson's voice sounded like it came from a great distance, deep and hoarse.

He raised his head, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the room.

"Who can take over that damn number 7 jersey? Who has the ability to keep Old Trafford selling out of season tickets?"

"Listen to the bullshit these Spaniards are spouting! 'The Easter Secret Agreement'?"

He grabbed a copy of AS, crumpled it into a ball, and slammed it against the wall, swearing profusely in a Scottish accent:

"On the fourth day of our fierce league battle with Arsenal, our dear number 7 was eating an Easter chocolate egg? And he was even dipping it in Bernabéu glitter!"

Spanish radio station COPE reported on Thursday that Beckham met with two senior figures at Real Madrid on Easter Sunday and reached a preliminary agreement for a four-year contract.

Spanish media reports that Beckham's specific transfer fee still needs to be negotiated with Manchester United, as Beckham's contract with Manchester United does not expire until 2005.

Jill was interrupted by an even more violent roar when she tried to interject:

"Now all of Manchester knows—their whole family had a private meeting at the Malmaison Hotel on the night of the Champions League match!"

He mimicked Beckham's London accent: "'Not starting makes me ashamed'? Then wearing a Manchester United jersey and having an affair with Real Madrid isn't ashamed?!"

British newspaper The Sun reported on Friday that Beckham held an emergency meeting with his agent and wife Victoria at the Malmaison Hotel near Old Trafford after Manchester United's match against Real Madrid.

Beckham claimed that he felt extremely ashamed not to start in such a great game.

According to an eyewitness at the time, "I was surprised that he appeared here so quickly, less than an hour after the final whistle blew. He didn't look very happy, and judging from his expression, he must have something important to do in such a hurry."

In his article, Nel Kusdis, known as Manchester United's chief expert, described in The Sun that Beckham angrily called his agent after the Champions League match, demanding that the two meet immediately, with only one thing on his mind: to find him a club to join as soon as possible!

Forty minutes later, Beckham and his wife Victoria met with their agent at the Malmaison Hotel in Manchester. A heartbroken Beckham immediately told them, "I have to leave Manchester United. I'm going crazy."

The three then conducted a detailed investigation. Beckham told his agent, Tony Stephen, "You have to find me an overseas club as soon as possible. I don't want to stay at Manchester United for another day. I'm already being treated like an outsider."

The meeting lasted until late at night before it ended.

"Arsenal are only 3 points behind with a game in hand, and Van Nistelrooy's knee is like a ticking time bomb. Now all of England is waiting to see—"

Ferguson suddenly mimicked the exaggerated tone of The Sun: "Ferguson has gone mad! He actually let our golden right foot go to buy a second-rate player like Forlán!"

乌拉圭射手弗兰自2002年1月22日以1200万美元身价加盟曼联以来，直到该赛季结束进球数依然是零。直到2002年9月才打进第一个正式比赛进球（点球），期间八个月出场27次颗粒无收。因此被英国媒体嘲讽为“笨蛋”、“曼联队半个世纪最差引援”、“Forlorn（绝望）”等。

After a long silence, Sir Charlton's pocket watch clicked.

"But remember this."

Ferguson loosened his tie, revealing bulging veins on his neck.

"Even if Marca publishes a photo of him holding a Real Madrid jersey tomorrow, Manchester United will always be bigger than any other player – including that beautiful boy who can kick a curveball."

The last half of the sentence was almost squeezed out between clenched teeth.

Outside the window at Carrington training ground, the faint laughter of a group of youth academy players seemed particularly jarring in the heavy atmosphere. "Real Madrid must have Beckham! This Englishman's appeal in Asia surpasses any of Figo, Zidane, Ronaldo, or Raul."

Botín restaurant in Madrid.

The sheen of the tuna olive oil danced on Pérez's gold-rimmed glasses. As the waiter cleared away the appetizers, the construction tycoon suddenly pulled a Montblanc-sponsored gold-plated fountain pen from the inside pocket of his Armani suit.

"Watch closely, friends."

His pinky ring grazed the rim of the glass, producing a crystal-clear tremor. The rising champagne bubbles aligned perfectly with the five names gradually forming on the napkin:
Ronaldo—Zidane—Figo—Raul.

The pen tip hovered for three seconds at the end, then wrote: Beckham.

Jorge Valdano, the technical director at the same table, suddenly choked on his steak – a phrase worth £3500 million.

Perez tapped the still-wet ink on the letter "B" with the end of his pen: "Asia represents an almost limitless market, but Real Madrid has never really gotten involved before! We're going to hold a grand parade like never before in the history of the White Army. Before that! I want to see the Bernabéu shops start pre-selling the number 23 jersey."

"Number seven still belongs to Raul!"

He glanced around at the guests, raised an eyebrow, and his shrewd eyes became somewhat lively for a moment.

"We will announce that he chose this number to pay tribute to Michael Jordan!"

This plan prompted the ambitious Perez to quickly send his personal representatives between Madrid and Manchester to gauge the intentions of sponsors, the Manchester United board, and Beckham himself.

He quickly received the response he wanted. Major sponsors such as Adidas and Siemens expressed their full support, and Vodafone in the UK also agreed to allow him to go abroad while retaining its personal sponsorship of Beckham. They could no longer tolerate continuing to cooperate with the stingy Manchester United board.

Florentino gently swirled the Rioja red wine in his crystal glass, a signature business smile playing on his lips:

"Beckham? He would form the world's most expensive right wing with Figo—one for dribbling, the other for passing, and they'd sell jerseys."

"As for Fernando (Morientes)? Celta Vigo and several other clubs have been eyeing him for a long time. It's time to make room for the younger players."

He stood up, his fingers lightly tapping the rim of his glass, as if each tap represented a superstar:
"Ronaldo, Zidane, Figo, Raul, Beckham, Carlos (pause) This is the Galácticos of football, gentlemen. Six Ballon d'Or level players on the same team, never before in history."

The secretary handed Box's letter of intent to renew his contract, which he glanced at and then set aside.

"Coach? If Del Bosque wants to stay, of course he can—as long as he understands that the locker room is full of superstars who can decide tactics themselves. (chuckles) As for Carlos's contract expiring in 2005? No need to worry, the Brazilian loves the Madrid sun."

He suddenly turned around, his expression turning serious.

"Hierro is a legend, but a 35-year-old defender isn't suited to stay at Real Madrid in this new era. As for the final result..."

A young figure has finally earned a place in Perez's conversation.

"Tell Monaco that we need to talk about that kid this summer. The Bernabéu pitch should be covered with the world's most brilliant talents."

Carrington's conversation continued.

An English edition of L'Équipe: "Ligue 1 Highlight Match – Paris Saint-Germain vs. Monaco".

Bobby Charlton's fingertips dart back and forth between two photographs, the reflections of strikingly different faces in his reading glasses: on the left is Roy's hair flying as he sprints in Monaco, and on the right is Ronaldinho's signature buck-toothed smile.

"Alex, are you crazy?"

Sir Charles Charlton's knuckles tapped on Roy's data report. "This kid is faster than George (Best) in his prime, but he's a sharp knife—"

The file pages flipped through with a rustling sound.

"Look at these stats: 3.2 dribbles per game, 43% shooting accuracy. You're asking a killer to replace David?"

"Bobby, have you ever seen how a symphony orchestra arranges its principal violinist and timpani player?"

He slammed his finger down on Roy's season stats, "This kid is our timpani—"

Suddenly, he mentioned Ronaldinho's report: "And the Brazilian? He's in charge of making the whole theater sway to the rhythm."

"Tactics? Ronaldinho can pass and dribble, he can certainly fill the gap left by David." He sneered and pulled out a copy of GQ magazine from the drawer, which featured a semi-nude advertisement featuring Beckham.

"But Manchester United's number seven has never been just a player."

He pointed to the survey report on "British women's most desired romantic partners"—Beckham topped the list, far ahead of Robbie Williams and Hugh Grant, while 007 Brosnan only ranked fourth.

"check it out."

Ferguson's voice carried a complex mix of sarcasm and reluctance: "My handsome boy could make more than 20,000 women in England dream of sleeping with him, Eric (Cantona) could give his opponents nightmares, and Best could drive all of Europe crazy."

He picked up Roy's photo and examined it against the light; the sharply defined features of his mixed-race face were particularly striking in the sunlight.

"This kid has a face that can make sponsors pay up, and legs that can make defenders tremble with his speed and goals—"

He suddenly slammed the photo on the table.

"Tactics can be practiced, passing can be taught, but that damn star quality? You either have it or you don't."

In this era, the number 7 at Manchester United represents not only athleticism and honor, but also the prestigious brand of the world's most profitable and dominant football club.

The chief scout's pen suddenly poked a hole in his notebook: "Two mega transfers."

"Who said we'd use the club's money?"

Ferguson grabbed all the newspapers on the table: "The money from selling Magic Johnson can be used to buy Magic Johnson. Number Seven only needs a number seven jersey and a salary commensurate with the number."

He suddenly crumpled the newspaper into a ball and threw it at the wastebasket: "Let Real Madrid collect their Galaxy stamps, we're going to build a lightning storm that can tear through defenses!"

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British police are conducting a thorough investigation into the incident in which Everton's 17-year-old star Wayne Rooney slapped a Liverpool fan during Saturday's Liverpool derby.

—AFP-London.

"The referees are biased towards Juventus!" This is a perennial point of contention in Italian football. Without a doubt, Roma is the Serie A team that has suffered the most from refereeing this season. Sensi has stated he wants the heads of four referees and the Professional League president, or Roma will withdraw from the league.

—La Gazzetta dello Sport

“‘We vote for Nedved!’ Nedved has surpassed Henry and Zidane to become the favorite for the Ballon d'Or.”

—Tuttosport

“São Paulo is really important to my football career. They helped me grow from an ordinary player into a star. I am now looking forward to an even greater transfer.”

Kaka said in an interview with Folha de S.Paulo.

São Paulo FC, agent Ribeiro, Kaká himself, and AC Milan CEO Galliani have all expressed their approval of Kaká's move to AC Milan, making it almost certain that the young Brazilian international will arrive at the San Siro next season.

— Gazzetta dello Sport

Maradona's new romance has been revealed! Maradona is currently undergoing drug rehabilitation in Cuba. The beautiful woman in the photo is the football legend's girlfriend. This young and beautiful girl is named Judith, a 20-year-old Cuban, and she has now become a household name in Havana. In fact, they began dating two years ago. The two are now living together in a villa not far from the rehabilitation center. In 2000, Maradona underwent drug rehabilitation here, at which time he was almost on the verge of death. It is reported that the football legend's condition is currently stable. He originally planned to travel to China to relax, but his trip was disrupted due to various factors.

—The Cuban Daily

Many readers want to know the whole story of Beckham's transfers, but a lengthy, God-like narrative wouldn't be possible in a single chapter. The summer transfer window of 2003 is a classic year in transfer history, and I will weave in various characters' subjective perspectives throughout the story to try and reconstruct the general objective outline of these famous transfers, including not only Beckham, but also Ronaldo and Kaká, without overshadowing the main characters or slowing down the pace.

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(End of this chapter)