[Football] King Of Europe

On the big screen hanging high, the electronic clock faithfully recorded the elapse of the game time. Now, the bright red number has changed to 88.

There are still 2 minutes until the end of the game.

At the moment when the ball was blocked, the hearts of the blue and white fans in the stands seemed to be shattered following the arc of the landing.

The young baby was wearing bright camouflage on his face, his big wet eyes were full of curiosity, and he was sucking his fingers ignorantly.And the embrace to which he belonged, the owner of those slender arms, had tears in his eyes.

The dragon fans who came all the way to Manchester were already on the verge of crying.

They... have no time!

2 minutes, 2 minutes... what else can they do!

"There is still stoppage time, the game is not over yet, why are you so frustrated!" The man holding the banner turned his head and roared, cheering up, the whole audience's voice was already hoarse, sweat and tears mixed together, blurred Camouflage on the face.After turning his head, he saw the helplessness and sadness in his partner's eyes.

Old Trafford is half fire and half sea water.

Half heaven, half hell.

On the main stand a few meters away, the fans of the Red Devils waved their brilliant flags, and the melody of the song floated over the huge stadium, as if to awaken the joy of every victory over the years, facing the high and ruthless victories of the visitors. sneer.

—Everything is coming to an end.

Manchester United fans think so, they will beat this group of ignorant Porto people 1-0 at home, and head to the quarter-finals with their heads held high.

—Maybe this is the end.

Thinking so, Ferguson unscrewed the cap of the mineral water bottle and took a sip, trying to calm his heartbeat that seemed too fast.The Manchester United coach turned his head to look at his opponent standing on the sidelines of the field, the cunning and wise Portuguese junior, after all, he missed a move.

however……

—There is still time! ! !

Mourinho suddenly turned his head, looking at the electronic card raised by the fourth official, 2 minutes of stoppage time!They... need a goal!

At Old Trafford, regardless of whether they were wearing red jerseys or blue and white stripes, almost all the fans stood up.

Time went back to 50 minutes ago, the visiting team's locker room.

In the small space, the sonorous and powerful voice of the man reverberated, stirring in the hearts of everyone in the room.

"And our chances will start appearing after 20 minutes in the second half, when I will put on Sebastian to attract the opponent's two centre-backs, disrupt their defense and make their defense tired. Andre, you need to retreat a bit, we have to try our best to create more opportunities... Costinha, the task of defense will be more difficult then, you have to be careful of those forwards..."

"And you, Sebastian... then you just need to spread your feet and attack. That old man in Ferguson will definitely tell his players to pay attention to you, but can the brains of the group of Manchester United players who are 70 minutes away from the game still be able to remember?" This is still a problem. Then Andre will attract their attention and give you enough space to attack!"

"But what if they all come to block me like crazy?" the young player asked with some concern.

As for his coach, the meaning in his eyes seemed to have seen everything.

"No." The older coach said calmly, "You understand, you have sat on the bench for enough time to absorb the attention of most of the followers. Although I occasionally let you go for a walk recently, But...after cooling down for a period of time, they will no longer chase you crazily like before."

"This is your chance and our hope."

He made the final call.

The young man on the turf slipped and fell to the ground. Before he could do anything else, he put his hands on the ground and stood up staggeringly.

In front of him, almost the entire Porto players gathered, and in half the stadium, players from both sides competed together.

His mind was in turmoil.

Involving the opposing central defenders, tearing apart their defenses and creating more chances...

He did all this with his feet, but free kick, free kick, free kick——

Why did he miss that free kick!

Why did he accomplish the task explained earlier, but he messed up the most important and most needed to be completed.

Sebastian was running almost to the point of collapse, his lungs were so hot and sore that he couldn't speak anything. Before his knees went limp, he took advantage of O'Shea's chance to stop the ball too much, and wanted to turn around. Looking for an opportunity, but there was an obstructive force behind him-a pair of hands grabbed his jersey!

Get out!He thought, this is his chance, Porto's hope.

At that moment, the green-eyed boy burst out from nowhere with infinite strength, supporting him to knock down the person who was pulling his jersey with his backhand.With a flexible buckle of his left foot, he hooked the ball and turned, but was pushed down on the court by the person charging straight from the other side.

The shoveled dirt and turf flew together.

A shocked roar resounded through the audience: "Gary Neville!!!"

"Porto get a free kick!!!"

"It was the 92nd minute, the game was about to end, but Gary Neville brought Sebastian down on the edge of the box... God, Porto got a free kick!"

After the referee from Russia whistled this time, his eyes were already on his watch.

From that moment on, all 11 Porto players rushed to the Manchester United penalty area. Even the goalkeeper Vitor Baia rushed over more than half of the pitch, ready to contribute to the human wall.

"Our goal, Vitor!"

"Fuck the goal, who cares about him!" Baia roared, pushing away a Manchester United player and squeezed into the penalty area. The tall man stood out from the crowd of players.

The blue and white fans clung to the seat backs in front of them.

This will be Porto's last chance.

"Senseless foul! It's completely unnecessary, Gary Neville, we just blocked a free kick. He didn't have any need to do this. He sent Porto a free kick for nothing! If the possibility of Manchester United's promotion before is 90.00%, then Now it's only [-]% nine!"

Cursing sounded from the stands as expected.

"Who will be the kicker...Sebastian, no no no, what???" The commentator raised his voice, "Porto seems to be discussing, Sebastian turned to Deco?! "

"Are they going to change the penalty player?!"

Accompanied by the commentator's exclamation, all the blue and white fans looked towards the front of the penalty area. The ball had been placed firmly on the turf, but it has not been decided yet who will kick it out.

"What are Porto doing? What are they thinking now? This is their last chance... After this free kick, the whole game will be over, and the referee may blow the whistle to announce the end of the game at any time!"

"Could it be a reason for suspicion? Let Manchester United not guess who will take this free kick? With all due respect... no matter how much cooperation, the technique is not in place, it will have no effect!"

sidelines.

Mourinho pushed the fourth official who tried to stop him, and strode towards the side of the Manchester United penalty area.

"No, no, Mr. Mourinho, you can't do this." The fourth official grabbed his sleeve and stopped the Portuguese man when he was about to walk out of the coaching area, "You can't leave here .”

Wearing a black coat, the young Marshal of Porto pushed away the panic-stricken fourth official, and stopped before the opponent stopped him again. His eyes were fixed on the front of the penalty area, and no one knew that the hands in his pockets had already The pinched veins are exposed.

"He's scared," Mourinho murmured.

"Sir, what did you say?"

However, he shook his head and did not give any reply to the fourth official. All the Porto young coach's thoughts were already concerned with that side of the court.

He saw his disciple squatting on the ground, holding his head in pain with his hands, as if he was about to curl up into a ball.

After missing the previous free kick, fear had already arisen in his heart, swallowing his pride and self-confidence like a devil, dragging him into the abyss of darkness with a cruel smile—after all, he was still a 17-year-old The child who has been able to develop to the present level has long been beyond the original expectation, and may not be able to expect more.

But he still remembers the confident figure that suddenly raised his head in the Antas Stadium two years ago.

A youth team match at that time turned his attention... to the young guy.

Probably he shouldn't have put him on the field, maybe he shouldn't have been ignored for such a long time before... The interweaving of the bench and the heavy hope is enough to unbalance a child who is not yet mature enough.

But... this is their last chance, their only hope, and yes they have another master of free-kicks, the brilliant midfielder Andre Deco -

on the field.

The older midfielder bent down under the attention of everyone, and his rough palms stroked the boy's sweaty head, and then patted his still immature shoulders.He forced the boy to raise his head and look straight into his eyes. It was the silent support from his teammates, which represented unreserved encouragement and trust.

Under the slightly blank gaze of the young man, the elder raised his soles, backed up, backed up, and left him a piece of heaven and earth.

In the end, only the boy squatting on the ground was left.

He was panting for breath, his sweat-drenched locks fell over his forehead, covering his emerald green eyes.

The chest was constantly rising and falling, which was also covered by the soaked blue and white jersey.

No one knew what he was thinking, all he could see was that he put his hands on the ground and stood up with some difficulty.

Porto... last chance.

Valentin Ivanov stood not far away, warning the players of the two teams who were entangled with each other. His eyes turned to his watch from time to time, and the whistle was held in his mouth.

The first whistle has drifted away, and when it sounds again... everything will be over.

Those pains and joys, those tears and smiles, those despairs and hopes—all at his feet.

The boy retreated in small steps, and finally retreated three meters away.

sidelines.

Mourinho felt that time was going to stand still, and the hustle and bustle was completely silent-as if he was being pushed to the guillotine, waiting for the final judgment.

Unexpectedly at that moment, the young man turned his head abruptly, and Mourinho was caught off guard when he saw his face, his emerald green pupils were vaguely bewildered.

"Don't be afraid."

He felt his lips twitch, but he didn't seem to say anything.However, the young man miraculously received this ambiguous message, and on the field a few meters away, the figure that touched countless hearts and minds suddenly raised his foot.

The golden boot hit the bottom of the ball again, just like countless days and nights in training, like teammates expected, like the coach encouraged——

In the Red Devil's Dream Theater, even the sound of the wind... suddenly felt like dying.

Until the roar pierced the sky, and the entire stadium was overturned——

"oal!"