Chapter 474: Chapter 473: Feng Te, Kai Wants to Eat Fish
Lisbon Athletics must ensure their performance is better than Arsenal’s.
Even on par is not enough.
Because Arsenal has the advantage when it comes to head-to-head results, if both are tied, Arsenal advances.
With the arrival of the half-time break, everyone on the Barcelona side was all smiles.
They played with ease.
Meanwhile, Lisbon Athletics was like ants on a hot pan, starting to fall into anxiety.
"Barcelona’s control of the ball is very strong, and their three-center-back tactic has given their midfield unprecedented dominance."
"Lisbon Athletics’ relentless pressing in the first half has not been effective. After seventy minutes into the second half, they are very likely to face a physical crisis!"
"Lisbon Athletics’ performance was not as strong as Deng Kai’s tough talk. This lad can’t do anything other than brag. He can’t even win over Keira Knightley!"
Many commentators took the opportunity to joke about Deng Kai during the break.
This is the consequence of playing with fame.
When you’re strong, fame is friendly.
But when you’re weak, sorry, every bit of fame becomes a sharp knife aimed at your heart.
In the second half, the game continued.
In the fiftieth minute, finally, someone stood up to break the deadlock.
And that person was the pre-match underdog... Jose Fonte!
Quaresma’s breakthrough with the ball was ultimately brought down by Fonte and Pepe, winning Barcelona a free-kick from a promising position.
Quaresma himself took the free-kick.
But his curler couldn’t get past Fonte’s head.
Fonte’s header diverted the football in an exaggerated arc, ultimately helping his former teammate Quaresma score!
Barcelona took the lead, one to zero!
Fonte: ???
Deng Kai: ???
Lisbon Athletics fans: ???
"An own goal! Fonte has scored a highly difficult own goal!"
"My God! A levee a thousand miles long is destroyed by an ant hole. I said Fonte shouldn’t have been on the field! Even Evra would have been a better choice."
"It’s over! Lisbon Athletics is completely finished."
"Who would have thought, this is how Lisbon Athletics’ Champions League season would end. It’s hard to take, but it’s also very real, as this is the kind of mistake a Portuguese league substitute might make at Camp Nou."
"Let’s congratulate Barcelona in advance, as well as Arsenal—from afar. As long as they don’t mess up, it is they, not Juventus, who will advance to the quarterfinals."
"Of course, making it to the last sixteen of the Champions League with this lineup, Lisbon Athletics’ performance has already been outstanding this season."
"It’s just a shame Deng Kai has made too many enemies with his tough talk, so after they’re eliminated, they’ll inevitably be mocked by many fans. But putting that aside, the Lisbon Athletics youth squad has actually done very well."
Fonte, looking at Quaresma, who almost came over to celebrate with him, was stupefied.
This... did I... mess something up?
On the bench, Evra was shivering.
Hey, you didn’t really mess anything up, you just slapped my face, that’s all.
Forget about Evra; right now, no one on Lisbon Athletics’ substitute bench actually wants to play.
Damn!
Mr. Trigella looked towards the bench. He couldn’t possibly be thinking of making a substitution, could he?
Don’t substitute me, please don’t substitute me, don’t substitute me at all.
What if I make a mistake too, won’t I be reprimanded by Kai...
"I’m getting old, even sitting on the bench I feel my energy waning," declared Deschamps seriously.
"A height advantage is our important edge against Barcelona, we can’t lose it because of me," indicated Evra, who is a meter seventy-three tall, equally solemnly.
"Camp Nou is too windy, it’s not good for my jumping," whispered Wu Xudong as he quietly dismantled his shin pads.
"My rough technique can’t provide effective help to the team at Camp Nou, that’s a real pity," Yaya Tu Lei was very nervous and dared not make eye contact with Trigella.
Veloso seemed dazed, but deep inside he didn’t believe it was possible for the coach to be serious.
"Feng Te!" Maxa had already stood at the edge of the pitch, calling Feng Te over, "This isn’t your fault, buddy, but I have to take you off now."
Feng Te shook his head continuously, almost to the point of tearing up, "No, don’t do this, if you do, I’m really done for."
"Let me stay on the field, I swear I won’t make another mistake."
"I need to make up for my mistake, otherwise I can’t face Kai."
Maxa had a sudden inspiration, "No, you don’t need to worry, Kai never blames the messengers who run errands for him, just like God never blames Jesus. But now, Kai has a more important task for you."
"After we conceded the goal, I heard Kai say he fancied some fish."
"It’s just an own goal, I believe a pot of boiled fish can make everyone forget everything."
Feng Te nodded immediately.
Eating fish? Stir-frying?
He was skilled at that!
Playing football? Defending?
That was indeed a bit of a stretch for him.
But the problem wasn’t with him.
Blaming the cook for playing football obviously should fall on Benzema.
"Oh! Sporting Lisbon has made a substitution, bringing on Veloso for Feng Te. Veloso takes up the position of defensive midfielder, while Pepe drops back to central defense,"
"It’s a normal adjustment, Feng Te struggling to handle players like Cruyff, Rivaldo, and Quaresma was a bit far-fetched."
"Maxa and Trigella didn’t blame Feng Te, Maxa even followed Feng Te into the tunnel, muttering to himself, probably comforting Feng Te."
Maxa: "Sichuan pepper, star anise, bay leaves, cinnamon, you must add these, but be careful not to make it too spicy, Kai doesn’t like it too hot..."
On the pitch, after the substitution, Sporting Lisbon fought even harder.
And they finally started to have more frequent control of the football.
Barcelona, tired from all the ball control, now simply began to squat back.
Sixty minutes had passed and Sporting Lisbon hadn’t scored a single goal.
By that reasoning, in the remaining thirty minutes, they still wouldn’t be able to score.
A one-nil victory.
Delicious!
The sixty-third minute.
Deng Kai found an opportunity during the exchanges between Guardiola, Kaka, and Ronaldo.
A through ball finally pierced Barcelona’s defense.
But the issue was the distance left for the football wasn’t sufficient, Barcelona’s formation was compressed too tightly.
Ronaldo made an off-the-ball cut-in near the football when Valdes had already rushed out.
Ronaldo could only poke at the shot.
The football rebounded off Valdes’s body.
Drogba was the first to react with a follow-up shot.
But Puyol had anticipated Drogba’s shot, quickly blocking the football with his back.
The football bounced up.
Kaka rushed forward to jump, ready for a header on goal.
But Barcelona’s sole tall central defender, Christanval, finally responded, bumping into Kaka. Both men fell to the ground, with neither touching the ball.
Before the football could fully bounce back up,
Ronaldo rushed in with an awkward leap.
Bang!
The football, after enduring tribulations, finally went where it was meant to go.
The football drilled into the net.
