Super Wingstorm

Utrecht, Koegenwaard Stadium.

When the head referee, Dick Jol, blew the final whistle, a breathless Kuyt came to a stop.

The Netherlands striker stood on the pitch, head tilted back and eyes closed, savoring the lingering atmosphere of the intense match.

It had been an incredibly fierce match.

The tenacity Utrecht showed on their home turf was completely unexpected by Feyenoord and Kuyt.

The team was currently tenth in the Eredivisie. Logically, they were stuck in the middle of the table with no pressure to perform, yet they fought tooth and nail to shut down Feyenoord. This clearly had nothing to do with the match’s outcome.

It was more about the spirit of competition.

Of course, one could also say that with all the media in the Netherlands watching, they had no choice but to give it their all.

In the opening phase of the match, Feyenoord capitalized on a quick attack. In the tenth minute, Kuyt assisted Castren for a goal. This goal seemed to give everyone at Feyenoord a vision of a decisive away victory.

But afterward, Foeke Booy immediately adjusted his tactics, turning the tables and suppressing Feyenoord. At one point, they even had Feyenoord looking flustered. For the most part, however, Utrecht relied on their tenacious defense to stop Feyenoord.

After switching sides for the second half, Feyenoord continued their relentless pursuit. Kuyt, in particular, ran himself ragged, patiently searching for an opportunity. But whether it was because his partner Kalu didn’t start tonight or for some other reason, Kuyt was always just a hair’s breadth away from scoring.

It wasn’t until the sixty-seventh minute that Kuyt got another chance, breaking through Utrecht’s goal to extend the lead to 2-0. It was also his twenty-ninth goal of the season.

Feyenoord then intensified their attack. Kalu came on as a substitute and launched wave after wave of assaults, creating numerous scoring chances for Kuyt. Unfortunately, Kuyt failed to find the back of the net again.

In the end, Feyenoord defeated Utrecht 2-0 in an away match.

…

…

“Hey man, nice one!”

Kalu walked over, slinging an arm around Kuyt’s shoulders with a smile.

He had suffered a minor injury before this match and hadn’t felt great during training, so Gullit didn’t have him in the starting lineup. He was brought on as a sub in the second half, though.

Kuyt returned the gesture, gripping Kalu’s shoulder firmly. “Thanks!”

His goal-scoring flood this season was inextricably linked to Kalu’s assists. Their partnership had brought Feyenoord a multitude of goals, and Kalu was the player who passed to and assisted Kuyt the most.

Especially during his recent goal drought, Kalu had repeatedly fed him the ball, for which Kuyt was deeply grateful.

“Utrecht went crazy in this match. They put out five defenders, not to mention three holding midfielders. To be honest, I was starting to suspect they were trying to shut you down for Yang Yang’s sake,” Kalu chuckled.

Kuyt couldn’t help but smile, but he knew that was impossible.

Yang Yang didn’t have that kind of influence, and neither Utrecht nor Foeke Booy would do such a thing.

This match no longer had any bearing on Feyenoord’s season. The team was already fated to miss out on the Champions League and could only secure fourth place in the league to qualify for the UEFA Cup. The win or loss was irrelevant; what mattered was whether Kuyt could score.

Utrecht was just making a statement, proving they had done their utmost to stop them.

The fact that Kuyt still managed to score in the end was no longer Utrecht’s problem.

“It’s all good now. In the earlier match, Yang Yang had a tough time too and only scored one goal. And now you’ve scored as well. The gap between you is still three goals. It’s in the bag,” Kalu laughed heartily.

“It’s still early, still early,” Kuyt said modestly, but a huge smile had already blossomed on his face.

There were only two rounds left in the league, and he was still three goals ahead of Yang Yang. Theoretically, he had basically locked up the league’s Top Scorer title, unless Yang Yang could score three more goals than him in the final two rounds.

But was that possible?

After all, Yang Yang had managed to keep pace this season mostly through his consistency.

Wesley Sonck’s underperformance this season had disappointed everyone at Ajax. Yang Yang, on the other hand, had stepped up, largely because his ability to capitalize on opportunities was so consistent; he could almost always be counted on to score.

Looking at Yang Yang’s performance this season, he mostly scored one goal or provided an assist per game. This had brought his tally to twenty-six league goals and sixteen assists so far. You could say he had orchestrated more than half of Ajax’s goals.

But matches where he scored a brace were few and far between, let alone a hat-trick.

Kuyt, in contrast, had three hat-tricks and three braces. On that point alone, he was already a cut above Yang Yang.

The only criticism against him was that he had suffered three distinct goal droughts this season, whereas Yang Yang had not.

Furthermore, Yang Yang had missed four league matches at the start of the season, meaning he had played fewer games than Kuyt. But now, the three-goal gap between them was more than enough to compensate for those four missed matches.

…

…

As Kuyt walked off the pitch, he was continually congratulated by his teammates.

A three-goal lead with two rounds to go meant he had all but secured the Top Scorer title, and his teammates all rushed to congratulate him.

When he reached the sidelines, head coach Gullit excitedly came over and gave Kuyt a huge hug.

This was Gullit’s first time coaching an Eredivisie team. Before this, he had only coached the Netherlands youth team, making him a rookie coach, so to speak.

In terms of his coaching record this season, the results were indeed unsatisfactory. The main issue was the team’s inconsistency in earning points, causing them to drop too many in numerous matches. This meant Feyenoord couldn’t even compete with Alkmaar, let alone Eindhoven and Ajax, and had to settle for fourth place.

But in terms of the team’s performance, Gullit had earned recognition. His team played the most brilliant attacking football in the Eredivisie, and Kuyt was Gullit’s proudest masterpiece.

“He basically can’t catch you now. Your goal tonight has crushed all his hopes. Fantastic!” Gullit laughed heartily.

Scoring three more goals in two rounds? Even if Kuyt stopped at twenty-nine goals and didn’t play another minute, could Yang Yang really close a three-goal gap in two rounds?

Don’t be ridiculous. No one would have the confidence to say they could pull that off.

Therefore, a comeback by Yang Yang was only a theoretical possibility.

Kuyt was this season’s Eredivisie Top Scorer!

The only remaining question was whether he could surpass thirty goals, or even more.

“The coach is right. I bet that goal made Yang Yang despair!” Kalu chimed in with a grin.

Being of a similar age, he had always been quite annoyed with Yang Yang.

After saying that, Kalu clapped Kuyt on the shoulder again and laughed. “Just get ready to collect your award!”

Kuyt chuckled along. Hearing his coach and teammates say the same, he couldn’t help but start to believe it himself. The tension that had been wound so tightly within him finally began to ease.

‘So tired!’

He had played the entire season, all thirty-four league matches, and for the vast majority of them, he had played the full ninety minutes. Especially in the second half of the season, if the goal count hadn’t been constantly spurring him on, he wasn’t sure he could have kept it up.

‘Now, it’s over. I can finally catch my breath.’

‘The Top Scorer title… he’d been waiting for this for three whole years!’

‘Now that it was within his grasp, he actually felt a little nervous.’

At this thought, Kuyt couldn’t help but break into a smile.

Seeing him smile, Kalu and his other teammates began to jeer playfully, demanding he treat them to a meal.

Kuyt winning the Top Scorer title was definitely the most celebration-worthy achievement for Feyenoord this season.

…

…

As the Utrecht match ended and the Feyenoord players were celebrating Kuyt’s early claim on the Top Scorer title, a dead silence filled the living room of Yang Yang’s home in Oudekerk Town, thirty kilometers to the north.

The live broadcast on TV clearly displayed this season’s Eredivisie top scorers list. Kuyt led with twenty-nine goals, Yang Yang followed closely with twenty-six, and after him was Feyenoord’s Kalu.

Even the commentators were saying that with only two rounds left in the league, a comeback for Yang Yang was merely a theoretical possibility.

This left his teammates—Maxwell, Vermaelen, Maicon, and Bentner—who were sitting in the living room watching the broadcast with him, at a complete loss for words. They didn’t know how to console him.

They couldn’t just say it didn’t matter if he didn’t get it, could they?

After all, it was an honor Yang Yang had fought for all season.

But if they made too big a deal of it, wouldn’t that just make him feel worse?

“Yang Yang…” Maxwell felt he had to say something.

But as soon as the words left his mouth, Yang Yang stood up, forcing a stiff, strained smile. “It’s fine. You guys should all head back and get some rest. We have training tomorrow. I’m going to bed, too.”

With that, Yang Yang went upstairs, leaving his teammates staring at each other in dismay.

Back in his room, he locked the door and flopped onto his bed. Lying on his back, he stared at the poster on his ceiling, a wave of frustration washing over him. He wasn’t resentful or angry, just unwilling to accept it.

‘Was everyone declaring his death sentence too early?’

‘Falling three goals behind with two rounds left was incredibly difficult, but was a comeback really impossible?’

His phone, lying beside him, buzzed with a new message. He opened it and saw it was from Su Xiaomei on QQ. The message read, “Don’t give up. I know you can do it!”

In that instant, Yang Yang’s eyes welled up. He felt an urge to cry but held it back.

He knew that silly girl must have stayed up late waiting for the match result again. And the reason, without a doubt, was still…

“Did I wake you? Sorry, I was up late studying and just happened to catch a glimpse of the game. I knew you’d be upset, so I sent you some chicken soup for the soul.” When Yang Yang called her, Su Ye’s voice was soft, as if she were huddled under her blankets.

“Thank you. This chicken soup is pretty potent,” Yang Yang replied.

For some reason, the moment he heard her voice, Yang Yang felt much better.

“That’s good. If you like it, I’ll brew you a pot every day from now on,” Su Ye giggled.

Yang Yang fell silent for a few seconds, then suddenly asked, “Xiaomei, do you believe in me?”

“I do. Of course I do,” Su Xiaomei blurted out.

“That I can make a comeback against Kuyt, do you believe it?”

“I do. I believe you,” Su Xiaomei said without hesitation. “Even if the whole world doesn’t believe in you, at least you still have me.”

Tears finally slid silently from the corners of his eyes, dampening the pillow beneath his head, but Yang Yang didn’t wipe them away.

“I promise, Xiaomei, I will not let you down!” Yang Yang said, enunciating each word with fierce determination.

“I believe in you!”