Chapter 213 The Play Begins
Chapter 213 The Play Begins
And during this short fifteen-minute halftime, earth-shaking changes were taking place in the outside world.
The glass wall of the Marca live broadcast room was almost shattered by the flash lights. Carlos Sanchez waved thermal paper and screamed: "Data don't lie! Song Wen ran 1.8 kilometers in the first half and touched the ball 11 times, all in his own half!" The holographic projection behind him was playing the scene of the 41st minute in a loop: when Benzema dribbled into the penalty area, Song Wen, who was supposed to assist in defense, was still walking slowly.
Although Song Wen's ghostly cutoff occurred just three seconds after this shot.
But the media doesn't care about that, they are having a crazy party.
The live broadcast station of AS next door suddenly cut into drone aerial footage - looking down from the sky, Song Wen's running hot spot gathered into a dazzling red dot in Atletico's half, forming a cruel contrast with Ronaldo's blue track covering the entire field.
"Look at this spider-web-like movement!" Former Real Madrid star Guti poked the screen with a laser pen, "Ronaldo's movement is like a scalpel, and a guy who claims to replace the king of football..." He suddenly pulled open his collar towards the camera, revealing a T-shirt with Ramos' portrait printed on the inside.
But in the Douyin live broadcast room, the scene is quite different.
Fan Zhiyi slapped the tactical board loudly: "All nine interceptions were successful! Did you know that when Song Wen predicted the direction of Ronaldo's header, his air time was 0.3 seconds longer than that of his opponent?"
A comparison chart suddenly popped up in the data column behind him: Song Wen's header success rate this season was 79%, but today against Real Madrid it was a terrifying 100%.
At the scene, the bulletproof door of Atletico Madrid's locker room could not block the insults from the south stand.
"They call you a Chinese rat." Costa put his phone in front of Song Wen. Under the #C罗Ｇｒａｖｉａｔｉｏｎ# tag, which was the most searched on Twitter, fans photoshopped Song Wen into a cartoon rat hiding behind a trash can.
Song Wen was staring at the medical box in the corner of the locker room. There was a bottle of Yunnan Baiyao with a note on it: "Wear three layers of shin guards next time." - Zhang Xizhe
Juventus director Paratici crushed a mineral water bottle. When the broadcast camera swept over Song Wen's bandaged ankle, he growled into his phone: "Tell Allegri that Atletico's No. 17 is not in shape at all! We must at least win the away game."
Before he finished speaking, the door of the box was pushed open, and Mendes walked in with Ronaldo's autographed jersey: "What a coincidence, I heard you are looking for a defensive forward?"
The VIP seats downstairs are a different scene.
Amidst Florentino's cigar smoke, his assistant was using holographic projection to review Song Wen's running trajectory. "He is imitating Kante in 2017."
The assistant suddenly pressed the pause button, and the screen froze at the moment when Song Wen intercepted Casemiro in the 33rd minute. "But Kante will not stare at the grass for two seconds after stealing the ball."
As the fifteen-minute countdown reached zero, Song Wen stood at the junction of light and darkness in the player's tunnel.
On the Bernabeu turf in front, Ramos was tightening the captain's armband tightly on his arm, while Costa was making the sign of the cross on his chest behind him.
Song Wen let out a long sigh and jumped twice on the spot.
Feeling endless power surging in his body, Song Wen headed towards the tower on the court.
He looked at Costa beside him and said with a smile:
"Muscle man, are you ready?"
Diego Costa smiled broadly.
"I can eat as much bread as I want."
"You can have some if you want," Song Wen put his arm around Costa's shoulder and looked at Ramos on the other side, "Remember to protect me when the time comes."
When the referee's whistle pierced the noise of the Bernabeu, the moment Costa gently pushed the ball to Song Wen, the boos of 80,000 Real Madrid fans were like a sword drawn from its sheath.
Song Wen, who got the ball, neither chose to pass it back nor to advance with the ball. He just stood there with one foot on the ball.
Just when everyone was wondering what Song Wen was doing, Song Wen suddenly raised his hand and hooked his finger at Ronaldo.
"boom!"
The Bernabeu Stadium exploded instantly!
"He is challenging God!" Carlos Sanchez slammed the table in the Marca commentary booth.
C Luo's pupils suddenly contracted.
As his silver boots crushed the grass and rushed towards him, Song Wen suddenly used his heel to lift the ball two meters high.
Amid the gasps of the audience, the No. 17 player actually dribbled the ball three times with his knees, and finally used a "Bengbu turn" to pass through the gap between Ronaldo and Casemiro!
When Song Wen and Ronaldo passed by each other, he even had time to turn his head and look at the surprised Ronaldo.
The sarcastic smile on the corner of his mouth instantly made Ronaldo sober up.
This is a fake fan!
Ronaldo's chest almost exploded.
He watched the No. 17 player pick up the football with his heel and bounce it three times with his knee. The movement was engraved in his retina like a slow motion.
The buzzing in his ears was not from the boos of 80,000 people, but from the sound of blood throbbing in his own temple - this liar who called himself Romi on Twitter yesterday was now tearing his pride apart with the most gorgeous samba dance steps.
The Portuguese suddenly realized that the so-called fan declaration was nothing more than the tail of a venomous snake shaking before it spit out its tongue.
Casemiro's pupils reflected a yellow-green afterimage.
When he saw Song Wen use his toes to hook the ball and change direction, the humiliating memory of Neymar's rainbow dribble in the 2017 King's Cup final suddenly awakened.
Muscle memory reacted before reason, and the Brazilian midfielder rushed forward like a heavy truck - this should have been a textbook tactical foul, but the moment his shoulder touched the opponent's body, he heard a crisp sound from his collarbone.
Song Wen's motionless back was like a concrete wall, but Casemiro staggered and fell, with grass debris mixed with cold sweat sticking to his trembling lips.
The insults from the Bernabeu South Stand came to an abrupt end.
Seventy-six thousand astonished faces froze into pale masks, and the sudden cheers from the three hundred Atletico Madrid diehards in the north stand were like a sharp blade cutting through silk.
"Stand up! Everyone, stand up and look!" Fan Zhiyi's tactical pen poked the LCD screen, making a bang. The real-time running statistics that popped up in the data bar were roughly wiped away by his palm. "See? This is the quantum mechanics of modern football!"
Zhan Jun's glasses slipped to the tip of his nose and he didn't even bother to adjust them. His voice was almost split: "Song Wen's burst speed reached 34.2km/h at the moment of starting! It exceeded the record of this season's Premier League speed king Traore!"
The barrage of comments flooded the live broadcast room like a tsunami:
"The God of Literature is activated! The slap in the face may be late but it arrives!"
"You walked around for half the game pretending to be dead. Do you know marketing now?"
"Did the Real Madrid defender buy tickets to watch the show?"
"This data is definitely fake! Waiting for VAR to slap them in the face"
Ramos' calf muscles were stretched like a fully drawn bowstring. As the last iron gate of the Bernabeu, he knew exactly what to do at this moment - when Song Wen approached with the ball, the Spaniard deliberately turned sideways to reveal the gap in the middle, and his left hand hidden behind him had already made a tactical gesture to Marcelo.
Ramos glanced at the referee's position from the corner of his eye, and sneered in his heart: Even if you can pass me, you will never be able to get out of this three-meter radius encirclement. The skid marks on the grass record the stories of countless geniuses who failed, and today they just add a Chinese name.
If Song Wen wants to rush into the penalty area defended by Ramos today, the only way is to lie down!
Song Wen's socks were still stained with grass debris that was raised when Casemiro fell. At this moment, the chill coming from a 30-degree angle in front of him on the right made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Ramos was using textbook-level sideways defense to block the inside route, but his left foot subtly made way for half a meter of space outside the line - this was the trap that the Bernabeu captain had used to ensnare countless geniuses in the past 20 years.
"You want the outside line, right?" Song Wen suddenly whispered in Chinese, and gently pushed the ball to the outside with his right foot.
A sneer escaped from Ramos' nose, and his left hand hidden behind his back had already made a three-finger signal to Marcelo. In three seconds, a three-person double-team would form in this area.
When the ball bounced for the seventh time after hitting the grass, veins suddenly popped out on the tibia of Song Wen's supporting leg.
The football that was originally rolling outwards hovered strangely for 0.3 seconds. His right knee twisted inward 45 degrees in an ergonomic manner, and his studs plowed a ten-centimeter-deep brake mark in the grass.
The image reflected in Ramos' pupils began to tear apart - the No. 17, whose center of gravity should have been tilted to the right, actually brushed past his right elbow with his left shoulder with millimeter-level accuracy!
"Damn it!" Ramos' patella made an unbearable friction sound when he stopped and turned suddenly.
He clearly saw the fibers on the back of Song Wen's jersey that were torn by his fingertips. This 185cm tall monster was using a Messi-style 30cm change of direction to break through.
Marcelo arrived just in time to make up for the loss, but was knocked to his knees by a fried meatball on Song Wen's right ankle.
Ramos heard the sound of his teeth grinding.
When Song Wen changed direction for the second time, there was even an afterimage at the edge of his vision. This was a weird scene he had never seen in his 14-year professional career - with his center of gravity completely tilted to the left, the opponent was able to use the outside of his right foot to hook the ball to the front right, and his entire body was like a puppet controlled by invisible silk threads, completing a zigzag motion that violated the laws of physics.
"Block his shooting angle!" Ramos screamed to Varane to block the shot, and he rushed forward like a wounded bull. His brain was calculating fiercely: Song Wen's touch rhythm was 1.7 times faster than in the first half, but every time the supporting leg exerted force, his right knee would be stiff for 0.1 seconds - this was the only flaw.
The grass exploded under his military boot-like shoes, and Ramos gambled his career with a sliding tackle that swept towards Song Wen's foothold with a sound of breaking wind.
He saw the familiar tremor of the opponent's right knee and the moment when the football was about to get out of control, but suddenly he noticed the data analyst-like sneer on Song Wen's lips.
That damn right foot suddenly retracted before touching the ball!
The football that he was supposed to dribble out strangely stuck to his toes, and Song Wen used his supporting leg to complete a single-leg jump like a pole vault.
"How on earth did he do it!"
At this moment, Ramos was filled with incomparable shock.
Song Wen's continuous non-slowing performance is very similar to his old rival, the striker from Camp Nou - Messi!
But the reason why Messi is always so agile in dribbling is that there are conditions and restrictions!
God has closed the door to Messi's height, which is why he can make such a nimble turn!
You know, Messi's dribbling is completely unreplicable, which stems from his three major physiological advantages.
Messi's natural advantage of being 1.70 meters tall makes his center of gravity vertical height only 92cm. Compared with Song Wen who is 1.85 meters tall, the vertical displacement of his center of gravity is reduced by 18%.
When changing direction 30 cm, Messi's hip joint is subjected to a lateral shear force of about 3.2 times his body weight, while tall players have to withstand 4.8 times under the same conditions - this is the key mechanical factor that caused Ronaldo to suffer a partial rupture of the patellar tendon in 2014.
According to research by Barcelona's laboratory, Messi's Achilles tendon energy storage efficiency is as high as 38%, far exceeding the 22% of ordinary players.
其31厘米长的跟腱超过97%同龄男性，在变向时能存储28焦耳能量，相当于将5公斤物体提升至5.8米高度。
The Lancet Sports Medicine Journal once revealed that Messi's quadriceps tendon attachment point is 1.5cm lower than that of ordinary people. This variant structure optimizes the pressure distribution on the patellar joint surface by 30%. Combined with his 57% slow muscle fiber ratio, which is about 45% for ordinary forwards, Messi's knee joint cumulative damage value is still controlled at 7.3% of the average professional player's average value despite an average of 68 sudden stops and changes of direction per game in his career.
But at this moment, Song Wen on the Bernabeu turf is breaking these iron rules.
When Ramos witnessed Song Wen completing his third change of direction without slowing down, a double afterimage was reflected in the Spanish defender's pupils - on the left was Messi's ghostly breakthrough in the national derby last season, and on the right was the 185cm monster's biomechanically unsuccessful zigzag movement at this moment.
"Is your meniscus made of carbon fiber?!" Ramos screamed at the moment his sliding tackle failed.
He clearly saw that Song Wen's right knee was bent in reverse, which should have been a precursor to a ligament tear.
The broadcast camera suddenly cut to thermal imaging footage: Song Wen's knee joint temperature soared to 42.3℃ at the moment he changed direction, far exceeding the normal athlete's limit of 38.5℃.
In Douyin's live broadcast room, Fan Zhiyi suddenly pulled out a confidential document: "Take a look at this Beijing Sport University laboratory report! Song Wen's dynamic Achilles tendon energy storage efficiency reached 41%, 3 percentage points higher than Messi! Do you know why?" He slapped the densely packed formulas on the screen, "This kid has integrated the Shaolin plum blossom footwork into the change of direction training!"
Zhan Jun was stunned for a moment, and asked seriously:
"really?"
Fan Zhiyi looked disgusted; "You believe this?"
“But there’s really no way to explain this.”
"Song Wen just can't explain it."
The barrage in the live broadcast room was also rolling wildly at this moment.
"The insurance amount for Wenshen's knee must start at 1 billion."
"Scientific cultivation of immortality has been confirmed"
"It is recommended that FIFA check whether a micro motor is installed."
At the same time, Song Wen had flown over Ramos' head and stepped firmly into Real Madrid's penalty area.
He seemed to be raising his foot to shoot, which immediately caused a chill in the Real Madrid players.
At this moment in Real Madrid's penalty area, the other two defenders had already forgotten their duties.
The only thing in their eyes was the man who raised his right foot, and there was only one instruction in their minds - rush forward to block his shooting path!
When the two men flew over, Song Wen's feet suddenly stopped in the air.
Then he passed the ball lightly with his foot.
On the other side, Costa, who was unmarked, rushed over like a beast! !
(End of this chapter)