Awakening the Messi template, Florentino Pérez begs me to join Real Madrid

The day before departure, in the meeting room

Magroni closed the folder and rubbed his temples: "Without Conca in the first leg, what are our chances of winning away from home?"

Lippi did not answer.

Magroni chimed in, "Fifty percent? To be conservative, forty-five percent?"

"You're only doing the paper calculations," Lippi said.

Magroni waited a few seconds, and seeing that the old man didn't say anything more, asked again, "Then what are you calculating?"

Lippi leaned back in his chair.

"What I'm calculating is how far these people want to win."

Outside the window, the lights at the base went out one by one. The training ground was deserted.

"Zheng Zhi is 33, and this is the closest he's ever been to winning the Asian Championship. Feng Xiaoting and Gao Lin are also basically set in their ways. Muriqui and Elkeson are foreign players, and they have more to consider than we do regarding their contracts, transfer fees, and career planning."

The old man paused for a moment.

"But Wu Shi."

"He doesn't need to think about anything," Lippi said. "He just needs to play football."

"At seventeen, he has no family to support, no accumulated injuries, and no mental burden of 'Is this my last chance?' All he needs to do is step onto the field and win."

"He's not the kind of player all coaches like. He's still far from meeting their needs in terms of tactical discipline, match experience, and consistency."

"But there's one thing he's better at than many others."

Lippi stood up and walked to the window.

"He's not afraid to lose."

Magroni paused for a moment.

"It's not that he doesn't mind losing. He's terrified of losing, terrified of it. But he's not afraid of being judged because of a loss."

"If he loses, he will be angry, he will practice more, and he will review the game until 3 a.m., but he will not back down. He will not hold back in crucial games for fear of making mistakes."

The old man looked out the window at the training field.

"When Conca got injured, everyone thought our midfield was going to collapse. But in the away game against Al Ain, he played as an attacking midfielder. He lost possession a few times and was beaten a few times, but he still dared to pass when he needed to and dribble when he needed to."

"That's not skill. That's courage."

Magroni remained silent for a long time.

Do you think he can go to Europe?

Lippi did not give a direct answer.

Whether he can go to Europe is not my decision, but the ratings in the scouting reports of those European clubs.

He turned around, walked back to his desk, and began to pack his things.

"What I can decide is what kind of player he is when I hand him over."

"They are 'young talents from the Chinese Super League who have not yet proven their abilities'."

"It is still a 'finished product' that has won the Asian championship, proven itself in key matches, and has distinctive technical characteristics that are adapted to the modern football system."

The old man picked up his briefcase and turned off the desk lamp.

"The former, there are countless similar ones in Europe. The latter, they are willing to gamble with money."

The next day, Kashiwa City, Japan.

The Hitachi Kashiwa Stadium, which can hold 15,000 people, is packed tonight.

Standing in the players' tunnel, Takeshi could hear the chants coming from the stands outside. Japanese fans' way of cheering is different from that in China.

They were a rhythmic, continuous drumbeat and chorus, wave after wave, never stopping.

"The air pressure is a bit low," Silver's voice echoed in my mind. "It might rain tonight."

Wu Shi didn't say anything, and looked down to check his shoelaces.

Are you scared?

"A little."

"That's normal." Yin's tone was calm. "Kashiwa Reysol's home ground has only lost one game in this year's AFC Champions League. In the game where they eliminated FC Seoul, FC Seoul only had two shots on target the entire match."

"But you have something they don't."

"...What?"

Silver did not answer.

Because the referee team signaled for them to leave the field.

Takeshi took a deep breath and stepped onto the court.

He saw a familiar figure on the opposite half of the field: Cleo, his former teammate, who was wearing a yellow jersey and stretching.

Cleo saw him too.

The two nodded to each other from a distance, their expressions unchanging.

On the field they are opponents, off the field they are old friends. This kind of thing is all too common in the world of football.

In the locker room before the match, Lippi didn't say much.

He simply pointed to the attacking midfielder position on the tactics board and looked at Wu Shi:

"Today you are the engine."

"Playing away from home, the opponent will try to take the lead from the start. In the first 20 minutes, play it safe, drop back to receive the ball, and don't lose possession."

"Twenty minutes later, when they push forward, that's when you'll be able to pass the ball to Muriqui and Elkeson."

Takeshi nodded.

"Also," Lippi paused, "the refereeing will be a bit too strict. The Japanese play cleanly, but they know how to use the rules. Don't get unnecessary cards."

The locker room was quiet for a few seconds.

Zheng Zhi stood up and clapped his hands.

"Alright, I heard you all. Get on the field and get to work."

The starting eleven players filed out.

As Wu Shi walked in the middle of the procession, the drumbeats suddenly grew louder the moment he stepped onto the grass.

Silver's voice rang in my ears:

"By the way, you just asked what they have that you don't?"

Wu Shi tilted his head.

"It's Lippi."

After saying this, Yin shrank into a small silver badge and fell silent.

The referee whistle blows.

Kashiwa Reysol got off to a strong start. Within five minutes of the opening tip-off, they had two shots and a corner kick.

Evergrande's defense was pushed back very far, and they could hardly get the ball in the midfield and forward areas.

Wu Shi frequently dropped back to the center circle to receive the ball, but every time he got the ball, the opposing defensive midfielder would close in. It was the kind of close interference that "just prevented you from making a move," with the elbow pressing against his lower back and the knee against his thigh, the timing was extremely precise.

Japanese football's defense isn't about violence; it's about suffocation.

In the 12th minute, Wu Shi received a pass from Zheng Zhi at the edge of the penalty area. As soon as he turned, two opposing players had already formed a pincer movement. He managed to pass the ball to Gao Lin, whose cross was blocked out of bounds.

Corner kick.

Wu Shi ran to the free-throw area and picked up the ball.

He looked up and saw a dense crowd of players in the penalty area. Elkeson was sandwiched between two defenders, while Muriqui had his jersey pulled at the far post.

He took a deep breath.

Run-up, launch the ball.

Near post! Feng Xiaoting leaps through the crowd and flicks the ball on with his head!

The ball flew towards the far post!

Muriqui shook off the defender and volleyed the ball into the net!

The goalkeeper blocked it with his leg!

"Ah!" A huge sigh erupted from the away team's stand where the Tianhe Expeditionary Force was located.

Muriqui knelt on the ground and pounded the turf hard.

Wu Shi ran over and helped him up.

"There's still a chance," he said.

Muriqui glanced at him and nodded.

The game continues.

Kashiwa Reysol's attack became increasingly patient. They weren't in a rush to deliver a decisive blow, but instead wore down Evergrande's defense through continuous lateral passes. Leandro frequently called for the ball in the middle; being short and with a low center of gravity, he weaved between Zheng Zhi and Zhao Xuri.

In the 31st minute, he received the ball on the edge of the penalty area, dribbled between two players with a croquet ball, and took a low shot!

Zeng Cheng dived to make a save, his fingertips brushing against the ball!

The ball grazed the far post and rolled out of bounds!

Takeshi took a deep breath.

He began to observe.

Although the opposing defensive midfielder was marking him closely, every time he dropped back to receive the ball, as the opposing team followed up, a gap would appear between the center-back and the defensive midfielder.

Not very big. Maybe only two or three meters.

But Muriqui's speed requires only two or three meters.

In the 43rd minute, the opportunity came.

Zheng Zhi intercepted the ball in the backfield and immediately made a long pass to Wu Shi.

Wu Shi leaned against the opponent's lower back with his back to the ball, and without stopping, flicked the ball with the outside of his right foot!

A diagonal through ball, close to the grass, slipping through the gap between the two opposing defenders!

The landing point was precisely in that two or three-meter gap!

Muriqui pierced in like an arrow!

One-on-one!

Kashiwa Reysol's goalkeeper has abandoned his goal and is attacking!

Muriqui didn't shoot; he simply pushed the ball across the middle!

Elkeson arrived in time and slotted the ball into the empty net!

1 is better than 0!

Leading away from home!

Elkeson charged at Muriqui, Gao Lin ran over from the other side, and Wu Shi was pinned to the ground by the three of them.

"Well done!" Gao Lin roared in his ear.

Wu Shi didn't speak, he was breathing heavily.

He saw Cleo on the opposite half of the field, hands on his hips, with a complicated expression.

The halftime whistle blew.

On the way back to the locker room, Yin's voice reappeared:

"That through ball, vision rating 92. Did you see the route, or were you gambling?"

Wu Shi thought for a moment.

"I saw it."

"The gamble is on what you've seen."

Yin remained silent for two seconds.

"Okay. You've improved."