Sports Medicine Master System

Chapter 447: Chapter 383: Injuries Are Your Greatest Weakness

Phoenix International Airport.

Chen Yu, wearing sunglasses, leaned against a railing at the arrivals gate, his eyes fixed on the exit ahead.

About a dozen reporters surrounded him in a circle, standing about two meters away, all their camera lenses pointed at Chen Yu.

Anyone who didn’t know better might have thought Chen Yu was in the middle of a street-style photoshoot.

"Chen, we’re already here. How about you answer just one question? Just one," one of the reporters, who considered himself familiar with Chen Yu, asked cautiously, holding up a single finger.

The other reporters nodded in agreement.

Over the past few days, Chen Yu had become the absolute hottest topic in the United States sports world.

News about Chen Yu was everywhere, with everyone discussing where his next stop would be.

Chen Yu didn’t move, pretending he hadn’t heard a thing.

Just then, a mother and daughter squeezed through the crowd of reporters.

The woman, who looked to be in her twenties, was wearing denim shorts and a white tank top that showed off her fine figure. She was holding the hand of a little girl about four or five years old and said they were fans of Chen Yu’s weight-loss show, asking if they could take a picture with him.

Chen Yu didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

The weight-loss show had successfully returned to ABC, and its ratings were still frighteningly high.

He just hadn’t expected a weight-loss program to somehow morph into a celebrity reality show, turning him into a TV star in the process—dubbed the doctor who was the best cook in the medical world.

"Dr. Chen, I really love the crystal shrimp dumplings you make on TV," the little girl said, looking up at him with an innocent face.

How could Chen Yu refuse after that? He nodded and gestured for them to come forward.

Unexpectedly, as the woman stood next to Chen Yu and the reporter helping them was about to press the shutter, she suddenly threw her arms around Chen Yu’s neck, stood on her tiptoes, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

CLICK.

The moment was frozen in time.

Chen Yu was stunned.

The other reporters were all dumbstruck, their faces filled with the regret of someone who had just missed out on a million-dollar prize.

’Such a juicy scene! If it can’t make the front page, it could at least make the entertainment gossip section!’

"Thank you," the woman said to Chen Yu repeatedly before turning to the reporters, swaying her hips, and announcing, "My name is Christie Hart. I’m a model. If you have any offers, feel free to contact me anytime."

Then, after thanking Chen Yu again and again, she took the little girl’s hand and hurried away.

"Chen, you got played," a reporter pointed out.

Chen Yu shot him an annoyed glance. ’Like I need you to tell me,’ he thought.

Just then, a rough voice came from behind him. "Chen, I didn’t realize you were so popular with the ladies. Are you sure Lexi is okay with this?"

Chen Yu turned to look.

The towering Batty, pulling a suitcase, was grinning at him.

Behind him, Ronaldo peeked out, revealing the rather large gap between his teeth.

"You cut your hair?" Chen Yu asked, pointing at his head.

Years ago, for the World Cup, he had reluctantly cut off his signature long hair, but he had slowly grown it back out afterward.

When he saw him last year, he still had medium-length hair. He didn’t expect that after a year, he would have cut it all off into a neat, short style.

"What do you think? Look good?" Batty took off his sunglasses and struck a cool pose.

Chen Yu nodded. "It’s much sharper."

And then there was Ronaldo. The quirky hairstyle he had last year was gone. He was bald again, which looked much more normal.

The reporters gathered behind them were already snapping photos eagerly.

"Let’s get out of here."

Chen Yu called out, then led the two of them to his car and drove to the hotel.

"You’ve gotta love the United States. In Italy, I have to take bodyguards everywhere I go. It’s so much more relaxed here. Nobody recognizes me," Ronaldo said in the car, pulling off his sunglasses with a wide grin.

Batty nodded in complete agreement. He glanced at Chen Yu, who was driving, and asked with a smile if the wedding preparations were all set.

Chen Yu nodded.

They had hired a professional wedding planning company, and Lexi was the one mainly handling it. Chen Yu didn’t get too involved; his priority was whatever made her happy.

As the car entered the highway, Batty noticed the T-shaped billboards on both sides of the road, which featured promotional posters for the Finals.

"Is there a game today?" Batty asked casually.

Chen Yu nodded. "Game 1."

Today was June 3rd. The Pistons hadn’t disappointed the Phoenix Suns, managing to drag the series to a Game 7.

But in the end, it was the Magic who had the last laugh.

The Pistons’ defense was outstanding, but they still couldn’t solve the problem of two offensive powerhouses, Hill and Tracy McGrady.

The entire Magic team had arrived in Phoenix yesterday to prepare for today’s Game 1.

Chen Yu had even checked on Hill and Tracy McGrady’s physical condition and invited them over to his house.

"Well, I hope you guys win the championship," Batty said, offering his good wishes. Then he added, "Chen, I saw in the news that you’ve been having a tough time lately?"

The news about Chen Yu leaving the Phoenix Suns had been widely reported in Europe as well.

Eriksson, for instance, had directly told reporters that he hoped to hire Chen Yu as the team doctor for the England National Team.

And then there was Moratti, the man who had been trying to recruit Chen Yu from the very beginning. During an interview, he had angrily declared that Florentino giving Chen Yu a villa was nothing; he would be willing to give Chen Yu his own villa.

"By the way, has Massimo left?" Batty asked.

This season, he’d had a falling out with Rome over his salary and had joined Inter on loan at the beginning of the year.

So Batty was well aware of Moratti’s movements.

"He left yesterday." Chen Yu glanced at Ronaldo in the back seat via the rearview mirror.

Moratti came the day before yesterday, but he only stayed for a day. He promised a heap of benefits and then hurriedly left the United States.

He left in a bit of a rush, as if he was trying to avoid Ronaldo.

’Wouldn’t it have been more convenient to take his private jet?’

Ronaldo, in the back seat, noticed Chen Yu’s gaze and shrugged nonchalantly. "He’s mad at me right now."

It was likely about Ronaldo wanting to leave Inter.

The press hadn’t exposed this yet, of course, but Chen Yu knew.

He had even guessed why Ronaldo wanted to leave.

It was about money.

He loved money and wanted a high salary.

And behind him were those two money-grubbing agents.

Most importantly, he had already helped Inter win two consecutive championships, so he probably felt he no longer owed the club anything.

Plus, he was probably thinking about going to Real Madrid to chase a Champions League title.

Throughout his career, he had won almost every honor imaginable. The only major one left was the Champions League.

And Inter clearly didn’t have the strength to contend for the Champions League title.

Not to mention the high intensity of Serie A matches; it was only after going to Serie A that he had started getting injured frequently.

"So, are you really planning to leave?" Since they were good friends, Chen Yu asked directly.

Ronaldo nodded.

"What about you?" Chen Yu turned and asked Batty.

You can’t go back to Rome, so are you going to stay at Inter?

He could still play, so he should be able to find a place at Inter.

"I don’t know." Batty shook his head. "It would be best to stay in Italy, especially if I could go back to Florence. But you know what Florence’s situation has been like these past two years."

Chen Yu knew, of course.

Financial crisis, bankruptcy, and then relegation. It was only because the Italian Football Association showed some sentiment for old times’ sake that Florence was specially permitted to start over from Serie C2.

"Of course, leagues in other countries are also a good option."

From the back seat, Ronaldo chimed in, "If that doesn’t work out, you could always go to Qatar."

Chen Yu paused.

’Cartel?’

’Isn’t a league of that level a bit beneath a player like Batty?’

’After my treatments, even though he’s getting older, his form is still decent.’

A flash of embarrassment crossed Batty’s face. "I’m just considering it."

"I get it."

Chen Yu nodded. ’Those nouveau riche guys must be offering way too much money.’

After a moment’s thought, Chen Yu said, "Gabriel, honestly, going back to Florence could be a great choice. You could use the last two years you have left as a player to lead Florence back to Serie A. It’s where your dream began, and maybe it can be where it ends."

"And finally, they tore down your statue. Make them put it back up."

"Of course, this is just a little advice from me as a friend. Take it for what it’s worth. The final choice is still up to you."

Where to play wasn’t just his decision alone.

He had to consider many factors, from money to family.

Batty nodded thoughtfully.

When he had played an away game in Florence this season, it felt as though his shadow no longer lingered on those familiar streets.

"And what about you?" Chen Yu looked at Ronaldo in the rearview mirror. "What area are you planning to improve this time? Want to go to Hollywood for some advanced training?"

Last summer, Chen Yu had focused on improving Ronaldo’s acting skills.

But whether it was because he disdained it or was just genuinely bad at it, Chen Yu had looked at his game highlights and media reports from this season and hadn’t seen him use his acting skills much at all.

There was one time, however, when he went down in the penalty box, clutching his left ankle and rolling around, only to be ridiculed by the media afterward for his terrible acting.

Because he had subconsciously clutched the wrong foot.

After that, he hadn’t really been seen diving to draw a whistle anymore.

Batty seemed to recall something as well and couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Ronaldo looked mortified and quickly shook his head. "Chen, when I left the United States last summer, you asked me a question. You said you hoped I would spend the season thinking hard about what aspects I still needed to improve."

"I really did think about it a lot this season, and I talked to some people too."

"And?" Chen Yu asked in return.

Ronaldo grinned, once again revealing the gap between his teeth. "And then I realized I don’t have any weaknesses at all. I don’t need to specifically improve anything. As long as I stay healthy, I’m the best, most prolific goal-scorer in the world."

Chen Yu almost felt like letting go of the steering wheel to give him a round of applause.

’I give you a whole season to reflect, and this is the conclusion you come up with?’

"Well, you tell me then. I can’t think of anything," Ronaldo shot back.

The media might say this or that about him was no good, but that was just nitpicking. Even his "not good" was only relative; he was still a world-class, top-tier player.

Even Batty looked at Chen Yu, waiting for the answer.

Chen Yu snorted. "You’re asking me? I’ve been swamped this whole year. Where would I find the time to think about your weaknesses?"

He was joking.

After a pause, Chen Yu said, "If I really had to point out a weakness, I’d say there’s just one: you don’t play smart enough. I’m willing to bet that when you get the ball in the final third, the first thought that pops into your head is absolutely not ’How can I work with my teammates to score this goal?’"

"Instead, it’s ’There are only two defenders and a keeper ahead. The advantage is mine. I’ll take them on myself. This is a sure goal.’"

"Chen, is that really a problem?" Batty asked.

On the team, Ronaldo, as the center forward, had always played the role of the finisher.

Chen Yu turned the steering wheel, exiting the highway. "It isn’t a problem in itself. Based on the end result, both approaches might lead to a goal. However, one is working with teammates to score a relatively easy goal, while the other is pushing your individual ability to the absolute limit to score while being pulled and pressed by defenders."

"And the latter makes you much more likely to get injured."

"Ronnie, for you, injuries are your greatest weakness."

Chen Yu turned his head to glance at Ronaldo.

He was 27, not old, but not young either.

Although his treatments had saved Ronaldo’s knees and athletic ability, it came back to the same point: during a long season when Chen Yu wasn’t around, it was still necessary for him to learn how to protect himself and play a bit smarter.

Ronaldo thought for a moment, then said suddenly, "Chen, I have a solution. You come to Real Madrid. Or rather, wherever I go, you go. We’ll always be friends."

He had a completely serious expression, but Chen Yu just rolled his eyes at him.

’In your dreams!’