I'm Kaka Kaka
Chapter 5 Football Emperor
Chapter 5 Football Emperor
The venue that the old man pointed to was right next to it, and it was also the venue with the largest audience, and there were often cheers, making it very lively.
Needless to say, it must be the legendary master field.
"Come here." The old man pulled Kaka away regardless of whether Kaka agreed or not.
Kaka, who was about to switch from the bronze round to the king's field, could only shrug his shoulders at his teammates and said, "I'll go there first."
Everyone naturally wishes for it.
Well gone, better never come back.
Kaka followed the old man to the side of the court.
The seven-a-side team is playing here, but it is not a regular army. Although it is mainly young people in their 20s, there are also a few uncles and uncles.
Ronaldo and Inter Milan are like glue now, and the popularity of this club in Brazil is still quite high.
Kaka took a few glances and became interested.
These guys are very skilled at the game.
Although from the perspective of a professional player, many of the core skills are amateurish, but they are very flamboyant.
"Hey! Sanchez, I know you're tired, get out!" The old man who brought Kaka shouted at a middle-aged man on the field, and then pushed Kaka up without waiting for the opponent's answer and dead ball.
Sanchez probably was really tired, so he waved his hand, yelled "change" and walked out.
Kaka joins Inter Milan in a Brazilian jersey... thankfully it wasn't filmed.
"Come on, brat, kick their asses." The old man shouted.
Sanchez gave Kaka a strange look, and nodded as the two passed by.
"Fred, who is this little fellow?"
"I don't know," Fred said, "I just know he's a master."
"A master?" Sanchez gave him a funny look, "Brazil is full of masters."
"No, no, no," Fred shook his head, "If I'm not mistaken, he should be a professional player."
After all, he came from an academic school. Kaka's shape and temperament are there, and it is easy for people with a discerning eye to see it.
"Oh? That's a bit interesting." Sanchez picked up the water bottle and took a sip, looking at the field.
The field is now "Brazil" with the ball.
Their defensive and offensive players have made a relatively clear division, but the few defenders are not safe masters, often rushing ahead of the forwards.
Now the dribbler is a defender who takes the ball from the back, spins past the "Inter" striker with a fancy pull, and passes the ball to the left.
The ball was received by a young man who looked about 20 years old. He was not wearing the Inter Milan jersey, but wearing the No. 10 jersey of Sao Paulo.
The moment he caught the ball, cheers came from the sidelines. I don't know whether he just conquered the audience through his skills or he is a celebrity himself. Anyway, Kaka looks familiar with that face.
Sao Paulo No. 10 received the ball with his right foot and was about to lead it forward. The opponent's player immediately came up to press the ball. Who knew that his forward dribbling was just a fake move. His forward upper body suddenly retracted, and the football followed. The defensive player lost his position all at once.
The action is very simple, but the effect is very good. Not to mention the defensive players, even Kaka and others who were watching were deceived by him.
After passing the defender, Sao Paulo No. 10 began to dribble the ball forward, and the player he passed hurriedly returned. Kaka was also ready to defend, but he flicked the ball back, and the football went directly between the feet of the defensive player behind him, and Kaka's defense was impossible to talk about.
This is a typical delayed fighter on a big court, procrastinating, but it is commonplace on a small court, and it attracted a burst of applause.
No. 10 finally dribbled the ball to the goal and made a gesture to hit the goal. Kaka quickly stretched out his foot to block it. However, this shot was also a fake.
Kaka was not surprised either, and was even mentally prepared.
Even if this kind of person faces an empty goal, it is estimated that he has to play a scissor-kick shot to enjoy himself, and it is called hell if he will honestly shoot directly when someone is defending.
He quickly retracted his center of gravity and followed immediately.
The opponent did not expect Kaka to react so quickly, but his control of the football was very stable, the rhythm was not chaotic at all, his upper body shook, and the instep of his left foot flicked the ball to the left, dodging Kaka's second press.
Although Kaka was not flustered, he stretched out his right foot, but the guy still made a fake move this time. The left foot that dialed the ball suddenly slammed, and the ball went from left to right.
The football was firmly stuck to his feet throughout the whole process, and there seemed to be a peculiar rhythm between the movement and the stillness, and the rhythm was just right.
Although Kaka's ball-handling skills are also very skilled, it is more or less rigid and deliberate, far inferior to the opponent's smooth flow and free will.
If it is a standard product that just came off the factory assembly line, then the other is an exquisite handicraft handcrafted by an artist. There is not much difference between the two, it can only be said that the difference is obvious.
Kaka was not completely thrown away, but he had already lost his position. He turned around hastily and stretched his feet to block him, causing the man to trip and fall to the ground.
The exclamation on the sidelines turned into exclamation, and many people were dissatisfied with Kaka's rudeness.
The person on the other side came over immediately.
"Hey! Brother, don't be so serious, right?"
"Falco, are you okay?"
"Isn't it necessary?"
After all, it's just a party-like entertainment. Kicking people down seems a bit too much.
Knowing that he had committed an occupational disease, Kaka quickly raised his hands, saying that he didn't do it on purpose, and then pulled No. 10 up.
"It's okay," No. 10 stood up, patted the ashes on his shorts, and said to Kaka, "The defense is good."
Kaka was speechless.
His defensive ability is indeed better than many offensive players who can only defend with their eyes, but the distance is good, and it seems that there is still a little distance.
It can only be said that you know too little.
No. 10 carefully looked Kaka up and down, and suddenly said, "Are you a professional player?"
"Not really," Kaka said, "it's just the youth team."
"Which team is it?" No. 10 asked again after taking the ball to the penalty spot and putting it away.
Kaka did not answer, pointing to the team logo on the opponent's jersey.
"Oh! From Sao Paulo?" Others were also interested.
There are tens of thousands of professional players in Brazil. It is common for these people to go to the field to practice their ball sense and pretend to be aggressive. It is not new, but the players of the Sao Paulo team are different.
Being able to name the city with the name of the city already shows the influence of the Sao Paulo club in the city. Everyone looked at Kaka and suddenly became friendly.
"St. Paul's? Why haven't I seen it?"
"Youth team, of course I haven't seen it."
"Falcao, don't you want to play 11-a-side? You can practice with this little guy first."
Falcao?
Hearing this name for the second time, combined with the familiar face of the other party, Kaka knew who this Sao Paulo No. 10 was.
There are many people named Falcao, but only three are the most famous in the field of football. One is the famous Brazilian football player who is called "Emperor VIII" by Roman fans, the other is the Colombian Tiger who had a short-lived glory later, and the other is the one in front of him.
Falcao, the future emperor of indoor football.
(End of this chapter)
The venue that the old man pointed to was right next to it, and it was also the venue with the largest audience, and there were often cheers, making it very lively.
Needless to say, it must be the legendary master field.
"Come here." The old man pulled Kaka away regardless of whether Kaka agreed or not.
Kaka, who was about to switch from the bronze round to the king's field, could only shrug his shoulders at his teammates and said, "I'll go there first."
Everyone naturally wishes for it.
Well gone, better never come back.
Kaka followed the old man to the side of the court.
The seven-a-side team is playing here, but it is not a regular army. Although it is mainly young people in their 20s, there are also a few uncles and uncles.
Ronaldo and Inter Milan are like glue now, and the popularity of this club in Brazil is still quite high.
Kaka took a few glances and became interested.
These guys are very skilled at the game.
Although from the perspective of a professional player, many of the core skills are amateurish, but they are very flamboyant.
"Hey! Sanchez, I know you're tired, get out!" The old man who brought Kaka shouted at a middle-aged man on the field, and then pushed Kaka up without waiting for the opponent's answer and dead ball.
Sanchez probably was really tired, so he waved his hand, yelled "change" and walked out.
Kaka joins Inter Milan in a Brazilian jersey... thankfully it wasn't filmed.
"Come on, brat, kick their asses." The old man shouted.
Sanchez gave Kaka a strange look, and nodded as the two passed by.
"Fred, who is this little fellow?"
"I don't know," Fred said, "I just know he's a master."
"A master?" Sanchez gave him a funny look, "Brazil is full of masters."
"No, no, no," Fred shook his head, "If I'm not mistaken, he should be a professional player."
After all, he came from an academic school. Kaka's shape and temperament are there, and it is easy for people with a discerning eye to see it.
"Oh? That's a bit interesting." Sanchez picked up the water bottle and took a sip, looking at the field.
The field is now "Brazil" with the ball.
Their defensive and offensive players have made a relatively clear division, but the few defenders are not safe masters, often rushing ahead of the forwards.
Now the dribbler is a defender who takes the ball from the back, spins past the "Inter" striker with a fancy pull, and passes the ball to the left.
The ball was received by a young man who looked about 20 years old. He was not wearing the Inter Milan jersey, but wearing the No. 10 jersey of Sao Paulo.
The moment he caught the ball, cheers came from the sidelines. I don't know whether he just conquered the audience through his skills or he is a celebrity himself. Anyway, Kaka looks familiar with that face.
Sao Paulo No. 10 received the ball with his right foot and was about to lead it forward. The opponent's player immediately came up to press the ball. Who knew that his forward dribbling was just a fake move. His forward upper body suddenly retracted, and the football followed. The defensive player lost his position all at once.
The action is very simple, but the effect is very good. Not to mention the defensive players, even Kaka and others who were watching were deceived by him.
After passing the defender, Sao Paulo No. 10 began to dribble the ball forward, and the player he passed hurriedly returned. Kaka was also ready to defend, but he flicked the ball back, and the football went directly between the feet of the defensive player behind him, and Kaka's defense was impossible to talk about.
This is a typical delayed fighter on a big court, procrastinating, but it is commonplace on a small court, and it attracted a burst of applause.
No. 10 finally dribbled the ball to the goal and made a gesture to hit the goal. Kaka quickly stretched out his foot to block it. However, this shot was also a fake.
Kaka was not surprised either, and was even mentally prepared.
Even if this kind of person faces an empty goal, it is estimated that he has to play a scissor-kick shot to enjoy himself, and it is called hell if he will honestly shoot directly when someone is defending.
He quickly retracted his center of gravity and followed immediately.
The opponent did not expect Kaka to react so quickly, but his control of the football was very stable, the rhythm was not chaotic at all, his upper body shook, and the instep of his left foot flicked the ball to the left, dodging Kaka's second press.
Although Kaka was not flustered, he stretched out his right foot, but the guy still made a fake move this time. The left foot that dialed the ball suddenly slammed, and the ball went from left to right.
The football was firmly stuck to his feet throughout the whole process, and there seemed to be a peculiar rhythm between the movement and the stillness, and the rhythm was just right.
Although Kaka's ball-handling skills are also very skilled, it is more or less rigid and deliberate, far inferior to the opponent's smooth flow and free will.
If it is a standard product that just came off the factory assembly line, then the other is an exquisite handicraft handcrafted by an artist. There is not much difference between the two, it can only be said that the difference is obvious.
Kaka was not completely thrown away, but he had already lost his position. He turned around hastily and stretched his feet to block him, causing the man to trip and fall to the ground.
The exclamation on the sidelines turned into exclamation, and many people were dissatisfied with Kaka's rudeness.
The person on the other side came over immediately.
"Hey! Brother, don't be so serious, right?"
"Falco, are you okay?"
"Isn't it necessary?"
After all, it's just a party-like entertainment. Kicking people down seems a bit too much.
Knowing that he had committed an occupational disease, Kaka quickly raised his hands, saying that he didn't do it on purpose, and then pulled No. 10 up.
"It's okay," No. 10 stood up, patted the ashes on his shorts, and said to Kaka, "The defense is good."
Kaka was speechless.
His defensive ability is indeed better than many offensive players who can only defend with their eyes, but the distance is good, and it seems that there is still a little distance.
It can only be said that you know too little.
No. 10 carefully looked Kaka up and down, and suddenly said, "Are you a professional player?"
"Not really," Kaka said, "it's just the youth team."
"Which team is it?" No. 10 asked again after taking the ball to the penalty spot and putting it away.
Kaka did not answer, pointing to the team logo on the opponent's jersey.
"Oh! From Sao Paulo?" Others were also interested.
There are tens of thousands of professional players in Brazil. It is common for these people to go to the field to practice their ball sense and pretend to be aggressive. It is not new, but the players of the Sao Paulo team are different.
Being able to name the city with the name of the city already shows the influence of the Sao Paulo club in the city. Everyone looked at Kaka and suddenly became friendly.
"St. Paul's? Why haven't I seen it?"
"Youth team, of course I haven't seen it."
"Falcao, don't you want to play 11-a-side? You can practice with this little guy first."
Falcao?
Hearing this name for the second time, combined with the familiar face of the other party, Kaka knew who this Sao Paulo No. 10 was.
There are many people named Falcao, but only three are the most famous in the field of football. One is the famous Brazilian football player who is called "Emperor VIII" by Roman fans, the other is the Colombian Tiger who had a short-lived glory later, and the other is the one in front of him.
Falcao, the future emperor of indoor football.
(End of this chapter)
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