In a small section of the stands, the Senegal fans were jumping and shouting in excitement.
Although the World Cup was always a grand stage for upsets and miracles, this was their first time qualifying. To have drawn with the defending champions in their very first match... even their own fans wanted to ask a serious question.
’When did we get this good?’
In stark contrast were the numerous France fans waving their national flags.
There was a section of them in the stands in front of Chen Yu. They were now completely silent. Chen Yu even noticed some of the more emotional ones covering their faces with their hands, tears welling up in the corners of their eyes.
A draw against a team on the level of Brazil, Germany, Italy, or Argentina would have been acceptable.
But Senegal? All the France fans found it unacceptable.
"See? The heavy favorite is always doomed to fail," Andy Dunbar muttered, once again bringing up his brand of metaphysics.
As the head coach of a national team, Alina had to offer a professional analysis. "I think that without Zidane, the France Team really doesn’t know how to play."
Even though they had world-class forwards like Henry, Trezeget, and Cisse.
Truly top-tier. This season, Henry was the Premier League’s Golden Boot winner, Cisse was the Ligue 1 Golden Boot winner, and as for Trezeget, if a resurgent Ronaldo hadn’t been playing like he was possessed by the Alien, this season’s Serie A Golden Boot would have most likely been his as well.
If the United States Team had a forward line of this caliber, Alina would surely have drooled three pounds before saying anything else.
But as good as these forwards were, they still needed someone in the midfield to feed them the ball. They weren’t like Ronaldo, the Alien who, when he was feeling it, could take the ball at midfield and dribble past half the opposing team in one go.
But now, Zidane was gone.
"In ’98 and 2000, the France Team won both the World Cup and the UEFA European Championship because of their central axis of Zidane, Deschamps, and Blanco. But in this World Cup, Deschamps and Blanco have retired, leaving only Zidane."
"If Zidane were playing, it would have been fine. They’d be able to control the rhythm of the midfield. But with Zidane injured, even I can see that the French midfield is in complete chaos. Their timing is poor. They don’t attack when they should, and they’re too slow to fall back on defense."
"And then there’s their defensive line. All I can say is that it’s too old. And Djokaf is really showing his age. It feels like he can barely run anymore."
These were stars from the 60s generation, after all!
Senegal’s goal in the first half came after Djokaf was dispossessed while dribbling, which led to their score.
You could say that the French midfield was in a constant state of panic.
If Zidane had been there, it never would have gotten this bad.
At this point, Alina suddenly turned his head. "Chen, I think Lemerre owes you a big thank you."
"Thank me?" Chen Yu was taken aback.
Alina nodded. "Didn’t you see? After conceding the goal, the France Team was constantly pushing to attack, but they couldn’t organize anything. That equalizer in the second half wasn’t a product of their midfield play. It came from Pires using his individual skill to force a breakthrough on the left wing."
"That final cross was beautiful, allowing Henry to tap it in and equalize. That’s why I said Lemerre should thank you. If it weren’t for your treatment, Pires would have a torn ACL and there’s no way he would’ve made it to the World Cup."
"If he hadn’t been playing, with that chaotic French midfield, they really might have lost to Senegal. Now *that* would have been a real upset."
When tactics fail, you can still rely on a moment of brilliance from a star player.
And today, the France Team managed to paper over the cracks and salvage one point, all thanks to Pires.
Chen Yu understood and laughed. "Alright, then. I’ll have to add a little extra to Zidane’s bill."
If they had actually lost to Senegal, Lemerre would have been drowned in criticism.
The crowd began to disperse.
Chen Yu followed the flow of people heading out of the stadium.
When he reached the parking lot and was about to get in the car to head back to the hotel, he suddenly heard someone call his name from behind.
He turned his head and saw a man in the distance waving at him, running quickly in his direction.
He’d seen him before. The man had been there when Zidane was brought over.
He ran up quickly and called out to Chen Yu, and behind him, another person was rushing over from a distance.
He was jogging and seemed to be in quite a hurry.
It was Lemerre. He reached Chen Yu, panting heavily. After taking a few deep breaths to catch his wind, he grabbed Chen Yu’s hand. "Chen, can Zidane really make a full recovery before the 6th?"
Chen Yu was stunned.
’So you skipped the post-match press conference and ran all the way here, out of breath, just for this?’
’The key thing is, didn’t you already ask me this before the match?’
"What’s wrong? Is there a problem?" Seeing that Chen Yu didn’t answer immediately, a clear panic appeared in Lemerre’s eyes.
He was truly panicking.
Before the match, even though Zidane was absent, the entire France Team had been quite relaxed.
’Senegal? What do they have to compete against the defending champions?’
But after playing one match, Lemerre had nearly pissed his pants in fear. Or rather, when Senegal scored first in the first half, he’d already been scared senseless.
Watching from the sidelines, he even felt that the France Team was a complete mess, not even as well-coordinated as Senegal.
The midfield was in shambles, leaving their world-class forward line to be mere spectators up front.
And their defense... Lemerre hadn’t thought much of it before, but after today’s game, he realized just how weak it was.
Desailly and Leboeuf... their bodies clearly couldn’t keep up with their minds anymore.
If Pires hadn’t saved the day in the second half, Lemerre felt like he could have just committed suicide to atone for his failure.
So, for the next match against the stronger Uruguay team, Zidane had to be on the field.
And whether or not Zidane could play depended entirely on Chen Yu.
At that moment, if Chen Yu so much as uttered the word "sorry," Lemerre felt like the sky would come crashing down.
Chen Yu didn’t know what Lemerre was thinking. He simply stepped forward and gave the clearly flustered little old man a hug, patting him on the back. "Don’t worry. Your money won’t be wasted."
These words did nothing to ease Lemerre’s panic. As Chen Yu got into his car, he could still see him in the rearview mirror, standing motionless and staring in his direction.
Chen Yu shook his head to himself.
’This is what it’s like for a top team. The pressure for results is immense.’
’The United States Team is much better. Their mentality is rock-solid.’
The next day, Chen Yu, as he had arranged with Contiguglia, did not rush back to Japan.
In the morning, they went to Seoul again to buy some souvenirs.
There wasn’t really much worth buying; it was a matter of picking the best of a bad bunch, just buying something for the sake of it.
They returned early at noon to watch the broadcast of the Phoenix Suns versus the Lakers.
It was a day ahead in Asia, so it was only the 31st back in the United States, time for Game 6.
The game started a little after 11 AM in South Korea.
Before it even started, the group had already gathered. Beer, snacks, and everything else were all set up, just waiting for the game to begin.
"Chen, if your team wins this one, you’ve pretty much locked up the championship. In that case, are you going to go back to the States to watch the final game of the NBA Finals?" Contiguglia asked.
If the Phoenix Suns managed to win the championship this season, Chen Yu would definitely be a key contributor.
How could Chen Yu be absent at such a crucial moment as winning a championship?
But thinking about the timing, the final game would probably be around the end of the World Cup group stage.
"We’ll see," Chen Yu answered noncommittally.
Nothing was certain yet.
If the United States Team didn’t make it out of the group stage, he could go back early and make it in time.
But if they unexpectedly advanced, Chen Yu couldn’t just abandon the United States Team and travel thousands of miles back to the United States to watch the final game.
That would be a disservice to his position as the National Team’s doctor, wouldn’t it?
Alina, sitting across from him, was a little worried. "Chen, are you confident you’ll win this one? Look at the last game, Kobe dropped 40-plus again."
At the mention of Kobe, Chen Yu felt a slight urge to laugh.
The Phoenix Suns had won the crucial Celestial King Mountain battle.
Chen Yu had watched the entire game, and it had followed the script he’d designed for Skiles exactly.
In that game, Skiles had adjusted the starting lineup again, putting Teylon Hill in for Gugliotta to strengthen the interior defense, and then relentlessly double-teaming O’Neal.
And if they couldn’t stop him, they’d just foul him and send O’Neal to the free-throw line.
Then, just like in the previous game, they left Kobe open on the perimeter.
As expected, Kobe exploded for 43 points.
O’Neal, on the other hand, had no shooting opportunities, was constantly double-teamed, and sent to the free-throw line, managing only 16 points—a disastrous performance.
However, that game had actually been quite dangerous.
It was the Lakers’ home court, after all.
Plus, that old devil Horry had stepped up again with two crucial, life-saving three-pointers in the fourth quarter, keeping the game in suspense until the very end.
Fortunately, Hardaway withstood the pressure and scored on consecutive drives to the basket, helping the Phoenix Suns secure the win.
In response to Alina’s question, Chen Yu smiled. "It’s just like soccer. Until the final whistle, no one knows what the result will be."
Still, the odds were heavily in their favor.
Chen Yu had already seen the news reports.
Previously, Chen Yu hadn’t cared for these reporters, thinking they just wrote a bunch of nonsense. But now, he suddenly felt they were actually quite impressive.
The day after the Celestial King Mountain battle, the media broke a story that arguing could be heard from the Lakers’ locker room after the game.
This was complete bullshit.
Never mind the fact that the locker room had security guards and reporters couldn’t get anywhere near it.
Even if they did get close, the locker room was so well soundproofed, how could they possibly hear an argument inside?
But the reporters had clearly seen the budding signs of conflict to dare write something like that.
Most importantly, after this report came out, Kobe’s attitude was very telling. When cornered by reporters, he had said, "I’ve given my all for the team, but we still lost."
’The subtext of that statement was clearly: ’I did my best, so it’s not my fault the team lost.’’
’So who’s to blame? Naturally, it’s O’Neal, who has been in a slump for two straight games.’
So, the conflict between the two was all but out in the open.
Therefore, according to his own script, whether the Phoenix Suns won or lost this game, their chances of advancing were very high.
Just then, a live shot appeared on the television.
The players from both teams were getting ready to take the court.
The entire US Airways Center was a synchronized sea of purple and white. The frenzied atmosphere could be felt even through the TV screen.
The camera also panned over to the Lakers’ bench.
Chen Yu immediately spotted Jackson. He was dressed in a suit as always, but his expression was clearly grim. He even had faint dark circles under his eyes, a look of unconcealable exhaustion on his face.
With his two core players at odds, he probably felt like dying right now.

Comments

Loading...