Chapter 214 If You Have the Guts, Don’t Get Out
Chapter 214 If You Have the Guts, Don’t Get Out
The moment Costa's left foot arched, the flash lights in the Bernabeu's south stand formed a galaxy.
The ball penetrated Navas' fingertips like a scalpel cutting through butter and hit the far corner!
"Fuck the Galacticos!" Costa ran towards the corner flag area, and suddenly braked and turned towards Song Wen.
The posture of him opening his arms was very similar to Ronaldo's iconic celebration action, but at the last moment he suddenly grabbed his jersey number and kissed it hard - the number 17 glowed coldly in the sun.
"This is a fucking genius pass!" Costa ruffled Song Wen's hair, sweat dripping on the other's raised mouth, "Have you seen that passage a long time ago?"
Song Wen supported the billboard with one hand, turned over and jumped onto the guardrail of the stands, facing the boos and raised three fingers: "I will feed the third goal to Ramos myself."
He licked his sweat-soaked fangs, the pale Real Madrid logo on the stands reflected in his pupils, "Listen, from now on, every time I touch the ball, I'm going to make them pee their pants."
The boos at the Bernabeu suddenly stopped.
A white-haired old man in the north stand tremblingly raised a torn season ticket, and the scraps of paper fell like snowflakes on the blast shields of the security guards in the front row.
The South Stand’s diehard fans roared with anger: “Thief! Liar!” A fan in a baseball cap tried to climb over the railings and was tackled to the ground by five security guards while still screaming: “Chinese, get out of Madrid!”
The collar of Zidane's custom-made suit was torn into two folds.
"Contract! Contract!" The Frenchman roared at Casemiro while tapping his temple with his knuckles, but found that the Brazilian midfielder was staring at his trembling fingertips - there was still a lingering burning pain from Song Wen's change of direction breakthrough.
Simeone celebrated like a wounded beast.
He stumbled into the bench, grabbing Gabi's shoulders and knocking over the entire row of seats.
The Argentine coach suddenly ripped off his tie and stuffed it into his mouth and bit it hard. Dark red blood spread along the collar of his snow-white shirt, as if he wanted to chew and swallow all the humiliation he had suffered in the Bernabeu for three years.
"See? This is a dimensionality reduction attack!" Fan Zhiyi's fist pounded the commentary desk, "Song Wen's cross-legged pass is three times more tricky than Iniesta's goal against Chelsea in 08!"
Zhan Jun straightened the earphone that was shaken crooked: "The data shows that Song Wen touched the ball 27 times and all of them were successful, and 5 of them were penetrating passes that directly led to shooting opportunities. Look at the replay of this offensive route - when he broke through Ramos, his body center of gravity shifted 23 degrees, which is an angle that is theoretically impossible for human joints to achieve!"
The barrage scrolls crazily:
[Has Real Madrid's defense collectively lost its intelligence? They don't even block the passing route!]
[Song God has a very good vision, right? I suggest FIFA to modify the offside rule!]
[Just came from Barcelona's live broadcast room, Messi fans are all shut down hahaha]
[Is it too late to order Atletico Madrid jerseys with the number 17 printed on them?]
[The referee must have taken the money! Casemiro should have been given a card!]
When Song Wen bent down to tie his shoelaces, he glanced at the scoreboard on the sidelines. The red numbers 1:2 made his retinas burn.
He made a dumbbell-lifting gesture towards the camera - that was the provocative pose that Ronaldo showed off his muscles in on Instagram before the game.
A small cheer suddenly broke out in the northwest corner of the stands. More than 20 Chinese students held banners that fluttered stubbornly in the white ocean: "Song Wen, the new king of the Bernabéu!"
Ronaldo's Adam's apple rolled up and down, and the tip of his tongue tasted the salty smell mixed with grass clippings.
The silhouette of him raising dumbbells with his back to the Bernabeu stands left a burning afterimage on his retina - the 17-year-old Song Wen didn't even sweat much, as if the cross-legged pass that assisted Costa just now was just a warm-up in the training session.
"Moving distance 0 meters." The Portuguese unconsciously repeated the words of the pre-match analyst, his nails digging deeply into his palms.
The data that he sneered at when he was reading the technical report three days ago now turned into poisonous needles that pierced his nerves.
When I scored a header in the first half, I clearly saw Song Wen standing there without even raising his head. I thought he was cowardly at the time, but now I realize that he was calm like a bird of prey overlooking its prey.
The rainy night at Camp Nou suddenly flashed back in my memory.
At the press conference when Barcelona suffered a 3-5 defeat four days ago, Messi's comment that "he turned defense into a three-dimensional chess game" now pierced his eardrums amid the boos from the Bernabeu.
Ronaldo looked down at his tense calf muscles, the 34-year-old tendon making a slight cry under the ankle brace, while Song Wenzhen used his fangs to tear open the energy gel package - the porcelain white neck didn't even turn red.
Fear is like a spider web wrapped around your ankles.
When Song Wen just passed by him, Ronaldo found that his explosive power, which he was proud of, slowed down by 0.3 seconds.
This slight delay would never have occurred before, when his body was a sophisticated killing machine, and every cell was clamoring to crush the challenger.
But now, the young man easily dismembered the entire Real Madrid defense with his surgical-like passes.
“You’re scared.”
Ronaldo seemed to hear someone talking to him. It was the 2008-year-old boy who won his first Champions League title on a rainy night in Moscow in 22.
Ronaldo yanked off his sweat-soaked wrist guard, only to find that his left ring finger was trembling - a phantom pain came from the spot where he was injured in the 2016 European Cup final.
The sudden cheers in Chinese from the South Stand pierced my eardrums.
A banner with the words "New King of the Bernabeu" was waving in the northwest corner. The blushing faces of more than twenty oriental people were very similar to the 2009 people who worshipped him when he first arrived at the Bernabeu in .
He is so worried at this moment.
I always feel that after this game is over, perhaps all the honors I have will be taken away by that seventeen-year-old boy.
"The second half has just begun." Ronaldo counted his heartbeats while bending down to tie his shoelaces, and suddenly found that his breathing rate was 15% faster than usual.
The technical statistics screen flashed with dazzling data: Song Wen's ball touching success rate was 91%, his confrontation success rate was 100%, and he failed twice out of three attempts to dribble past the opponent.
When the score of 1:2 on the scoreboard hit his pupils, he heard the cruel gnashing of the gears of time - just like when he personally pushed Figo and Raul off the throne.
But the next second, he was awakened by the singing of "Go Madrid" from the diehard fans in the north stand.
Ronaldo touched the sweaty team logo on his chest, where the metal touch of five Champions League trophies still remained.
When he stood up, he deliberately bumped into Song Wen's shoulder. The moment the young man staggered half a step, the Portuguese smelled the blood of his prey.
"Kid," Ronaldo ground his back teeth in a voice that only the two of them could hear, "Do you know why my locker is in the middle?" He showed his white teeth to Song Wen's suddenly contracted pupils, which looked very much like the grin he gave when he scored the winning goal against Atletico Madrid in overtime in 2014.
The night wind at the Bernabeu suddenly filled his lungs, and the 34-year-old veteran heard the sound of magma boiling again in his blood vessels - that was the roar of the immortal phoenix spreading its flaming wings in the ashes.
Song Wen looked at Ronaldo and was stunned for a moment.
He blinked his eyes, showing a harmless smile, without much response, but in his heart he was thinking -
What does the mule want to do? Does he want to stage a passionate old age drama with me?
This is certainly the case with Ronaldo at this moment.
He just felt that his tired body was full of energy again.
On the Bernabeu stadium, he wants to tell that ignorant kid who is the king of the Bernabeu!
However, this burning fighting spirit only lasted for five minutes.
When Real Madrid kicked the ball, Ronaldo rushed directly into Atletico's penalty area.
He began to run without the ball frequently, raised his right hand high, and called loudly to his teammates for the ball.
At this moment, Ronaldo felt like he was back to his twenties, with endless energy and high morale. Modric made a precise long pass to Bale, who started his charge on the wing and finally made a cross from the edge of the penalty area!
Benzema got the ball in the melee. In order not to take the blame, he did not choose to shoot. Instead, he kicked the ball with his heel, as if he had eyes on his back, and sent a magical pass to Ronaldo behind him.
Ronaldo's sprint brought the Bernabeu to a boiling roar. He was like a lion that had put on its crown again, using his toes to lift the ball three meters high - this was the prelude to the overhead kick that shocked the world against Porto in 2008.
The die-hard fans in the north stand stood up in unison, with their cell phone cameras focused on this moment that would go down in history.
"The elevator ball! It's coming!" Zhan Jun's voice suddenly rose, "C Ronaldo's signature shot. Eh?"
A ghostly figure suddenly appeared.
Ronaldo's pupils trembled as he flew in the air.
Song Wen!
The No. 17 jersey flashed in front of Ronaldo's eyes, but it only brought up a gust of wind and took the ball away from Ronaldo's eyes.
"Oh my God! Song Wen, he is just like a lingering ghost! When did he appear in that place?!"
As the scene ended, there was a huge booing at the Bernabeu Stadium.
As early as the first half, the meat grinder's defensive ability gave Song Wen unparalleled defensive ability.
However, he was not able to run much in the first half, so he had to miss many opportunities he saw, and he had to rely more on shouting loudly for his teammates to help defend.
But now it's the second half.
Song Wen, who stimulated the abilities of the Sea Cucumber players, had an extreme speed of unlimited instant starts in the second half.
Combined with his meat grinder-like defensive ability, he can weave an impenetrable net in front of Atletico's penalty area by himself!
When Benzema just received the ball and had no time to pass it, Song Wen had already predicted what would happen next.
So he chose to suddenly rush out when Ronaldo was about to shoot and took the ball directly in front of Ronaldo.
"A chance for a quick attack!!"
In the Douyin live broadcast room, Zhan Jun shouted excitedly.
At this moment, Real Madrid's formation is all pressed in front of Atletico's penalty area. Based on Zhan Jun's understanding of Song Wen, this situation is exactly Song Wen's favorite counterattack rhythm!
With Song Wen's speed, he can instantly tear through Real Madrid's defense and create a one-on-one situation!
He has witnessed this kind of situation countless times since he started commentating on Song Wen's games!
Zhan Jun has stood up from his seat, ready to celebrate the next goal.
Looking at Song Wen sprinting towards him, Ramos' eyes revealed a sinister look.
The scene of being humiliated by Song Wen in the penalty area just now was still vivid in his mind. He suddenly swore that this time, he would not let Song Wen pass by him no matter what.
When Song Wen sprinted over, Ramos' right shoulder sank instantly.
And at the moment his right shoulder sank, his knee had already hit Song Wen's patella.
This was a modified move he used to destroy Messi's sense of balance in the 2017 national derby, but his left hand, which was supposed to lock the opponent's waist and abdomen, only caught a gust of wind.
Song Wen's sprint trajectory suddenly turned a sharp angle, and Ramos could even see the grass debris splashed on the opponent's socks reflecting rainbow light in the sunlight.
"Catch him!" The roar from the north stand of the Bernabeu pierced the eardrums.
Ramos grabbed Song Wen's right elbow with his right hand like an iron clamp, and used inertia to press his weight against the opponent's shoulder blade - this was the killer move that broke three ribs of Oblak last season.
But the expected sound of bones breaking did not come. He was horrified to find that Song Wen actually used his left hand to support the ground and did a street dance move when he was dragged down. The trajectory of the two people falling to the grass was forcibly bent into a 30-degree angle.
"Click!"
A crisp sound of bone cracking came from Ramos' own right wrist.
He lay on his back, staring at the azure sky; the intense pain took half a second to reach his nerve endings.
Song Wen was lying on his side two meters away and slowly raised his body. His right forearm was bent at a strange angle, but his face showed an almost cruel calmness.
"Fuck your mother Ramos!" Fan Zhiyi's roar caused the microphone in the live broadcast room to explode.
"Beep beep beep!"
The referee's whistle sounded instantly and he ran towards the two people's position.
"Oh!!!"
There was a huge boo at the Bernabeu Stadium!
Everyone was stunned for a moment.
Ramos covered his right wrist and rolled on the ground in pain.
On the other side, Song Wen just lay there quietly, looking at Ramos as if he was looking at a dead person.
The referee's decision was beyond everyone's expectations.
In the face of Ramos's malicious foul, he was only shown a yellow card.
"Fuck, is this referee blind? Such an obvious malicious foul, but he gave a yellow card just because Ramos broke his hand?!"
Simeone's rage was beyond everyone's expectations.
The Argentine kicked the fourth official's chair away and rushed onto the field, grabbing the team doctor's collar.
"Medical timeout!" Zhan Jun gasped as he looked at the real-time data. "Song Wen's right radius was fractured, but he used his left hand to protect himself the moment he fell to the ground!"
The live broadcast screen cut to a slow-motion replay: When Song Wen was pulled, his left hand spread out its five fingers to support the ground, and his fingertips plowed five bloody marks on the grass. This action directed 70% of the impact force to Ramos.
Bullet screen nuclear explosion style:
[Martial arts film! This is fucking a 18-fall-down-with-a-dress movie!]
[Ramos gets what he deserves!]
[Ramos is really awesome. He is the first person to actually injure Song Wen on the court, although it seems that his injury is more serious!]
[Is the Atletico Madrid team doctor embroidering? Hurry up and get on the stretcher!]
[Is it too late to buy insurance for Ramos' broken leg?]
"Stretcher!" the referee roared for the third time.
Song Wen had already stood up. He pushed the team doctor away and walked straight to Ramos, whose face was distorted, and squatted down.
The boy's bloodstained teeth shone coldly in the sunset: "Like a man."
He tapped his temple with his index finger, which was covered in grass clippings. "If you have the guts, don't get out of this."
(End of this chapter)