From Arsenal to the Ball God

”Vamos.....!!” Javi Alonso spread his arms wide, constantly thrumming as he sprinted to the sidelines with Xiaofa, Iniesta, and others, celebrating wildly.

This is their era of talent explosion, their golden generation!

They are always confident, even proud, because they believe they are the winners!

”The ball is in! Spain leads France 1-0 in the final!! This is a very crucial goal!

”Their performance today deserves this goal..... This is also a reflection of their team’s performance throughout the European Cup; they can always suppress their opponents, seize the opportunity when the opponent can’t take the pressure anymore!

”It’s a pity for the France team! In the first five matches, they scored first in four games through sharp counterattacks! But in the most important match, they didn’t maintain their hot scoring streak!

”We can only say they’ve encountered a stronger team; now, someone from this team needs to step up!”

”.....”

The broadcast camera focused on France’s captain Ma’el, who clapped his hands to encourage the defenders to keep fighting, signaling Lori to quickly retrieve the ball.

From the corner of his eye and mouth, we could see his disappointment, but determination slowly floated in his eyes, as if he clearly understood they must strive to equalize and can’t give up on the championship trophy that’s within reach.

As he turned toward the center circle, people could feel his power from his back and stride.

As if, even if he doesn’t win every match easily, he never gives up, and it’s hard to completely defeat him; you must pay a huge price and be exceptionally perfect.

The camera then pointed at Deschamps, who got up from the bench and stood at the sidelines, watching everything on the field with a sense of loss yet calmness.

Beside him, Bosque and the players at the bench passionately hugged and celebrated, which made Deschamps appear somewhat sorrowful.

Meanwhile, defensive defender Juanfran and the versatile midfielder Javi Martinez rushed out from the bench to start warming up. Clearly, Spain was going to strengthen the hardness of their midfield and defense.

”Beep!!”

Giroud took the central circle kick for France during the 72nd minute, with five or six France team players quickly pressing beyond half-court, seizing time to forcefully attack.

Spain didn’t press; all 10 players fell back in front of their penalty area, initiating a dense defense.

Even though their six midfielders didn’t seem like the type to do the dirty work, when they resolutely engaged in defense, the intensity was quite high, and they wouldn’t be easily broken through.

Their agility and speed made them very difficult to breach, and they often could use surprise stealing to poke the ball away.

”Bang!”

France soon organized themselves, with Nasri swiftly transferring a low, fast shot towards Ma’el. They often used this tactic in the second half, achieving certain effects, but no goals yet.

Ma’el took the ball again to face Aveloya, never putting this attacking winger in his eyes; as long as he forcefully broke through, the chance of him staying on him was only about 35%, and the chance of intercepting was less than 10%.

”Bang... Snap... Bang!”

Gritting his teeth, he made several deceptive moves, then accelerated at top speed, dribbling down the line, seeking an angle to head towards the center.

Time was running out for them..... In this match, a powerful Spain had nearly toyed with them throughout the match through overall control, giving him very few chances.

He wished he could perfectly use all available means to help the team take the lead, even willing to be a lone warrior, straining with all his strength to tear apart the opponent’s defense!

But this is the highest level game, the opponent a historic golden generation, trying to score with 11 players specially watching and marking him is undoubtedly like climbing a mountain.

Many times he could feel a sense of helplessness, even causing him uncontrollable thoughts of ’maybe it’s okay to give up’.

Actually, losing isn’t such a big deal; not scoring a goal in a game won’t get anyone to criticize him, even if he loses the crown, he would still be the brightest star of this event. People would call the 12 European Cup as his match.

But no!

Can’t give up!

He can accept losing, can accept not scoring, but that’s after the game ends. As long as he stands on the field, he must grit his teeth and fight.

In these two years, he achieved many victories thought unattainable, relying on persistence..... countless efforts little by little brought him better results than anticipated.

He held on so many times before, this time he can’t just give up because the opponent is too strong. He must defeat this crushing pressure and let this peak batch of players feel his unique ability!

”Bang.....!”

Ma’el forcefully dribbled towards the inside, pouring all his power into the running, pouring into the confrontation, his face squeezed together.

Easily getting past Aveloya, Pique appeared before him again, only this time, Busquets and Javi Alonso rushed back, sealing off all his attack routes.

In the distance, Fabregas and Javi were also constantly monitoring his movements, ready to clear the ball at any moment.

He shook his left arm, posing as if he would cross with his left foot, shifting the trio’s weight before swiftly dribbling with his feet, attempting to escape their encirclement.

”Tap-tap-tap.....!”

He bumped off Pique, evaded Alonso’s coming foot, and gradually caused Busquets to feel awkward.