Chapter 13 I Only Told You to Lure Them Out to Attack, Not to Abandon Defense!

"I only told you to lure them out to attack, not to abandon defense!" Adriaanse roared from the sidelines at his players, his silver hair particularly striking in the night, matching the intensity of his shouts. "Keep an eye on number 11, Drogba! Mark him to death!"

Drogba's toe-poke in the penalty area had nearly broken the deadlock again. Fortunately, Westerlhop, even as he lost his balance, managed to deflect the ball just wide of the post with his toes.

"Easier said than done, but that number 11 is just too hard to defend!" Louis Link wiped his brow. On this early spring night, his jersey was already soaked, a testament to his desperate defending. "His range is too wide; it's hard to pin him down… Damn it!" Louis Link jumped up and headed the ball out for another corner.

Zhang Jun was up front, always observing Marseille's number 11. A big guy, one meter eighty-eight, yet incredibly agile and versatile. He was constantly running, vertically and horizontally. He was creating space for his teammates and tracking back tirelessly. When attacking, he liked to start his runs from further out. The goal in the first half was a perfect example: he took advantage of Volendam's advanced position, the defense exposed, and dribbled nearly forty meters, shaking off Robert (Westerlhop) to score.

Such a player, with his unpredictable position and endless energy, was indeed difficult to defend. He truly felt for Sais and the others. He wasn't good at defending; he couldn't contribute much on that end. But he could unleash his power in attack, indirectly easing the pressure on the defense.

Now was the time to defend the corner. Hadn't the coach said to seize this opportunity? Zhang Jun glanced back at the opposition's half. There were only two defenders, plus two midfielders, and all were concentrated in the center. There was plenty of space on both sides of the field.

Wasn't this the chance that he and Volendam had been waiting for?

Zhang Jun left the chaotic penalty area and drifted towards midfield. Whether they could get the ball to him depended on whether his teammates saw him and whether they could hold onto the ball.

Kozeal noticed Zhang Jun's movement and shouted to goalkeeper Westerlhop, "Robert! If the ball is close to you, catch it directly! We're countering!"

Westerlhop nodded to Kozeal and loudly directed his teammates, "Mark them tightly! Use your hands to block them, push them outwards, don't let them near the goal! Gijs, give me some space!"

"The Volendam penalty area is a chaotic mess of bodies! At this moment, Marseille takes the corner! An inswinging ball, flying quickly towards the goal!"

Louis Link successfully blocked Drogba, creating the space Westerlhop needed to come out and claim the ball. This was the moment Westerlhop had been waiting for. He leaped high, stretched out his arms, judged the flight of the ball, and clutched it firmly in his hands!

"He's got it! But he quickly throws the ball out to Kozeal, who's running outside the penalty area to receive it! A quick counter-attack from Volendam, let's see if they can make it count!"

Kozeal received the ball with his back to the attack. Marseille's defense was quick to react, and he couldn't turn. If he couldn't get the ball forward quickly, this chance would be wasted!

Van Persie ran up, "Give me the ball, what are you waiting for!" He waved to Kozeal.

Kozeal passed the ball to Van Persie, who took it in stride and dribbled past his marker!

Van Persie didn't dwell on the ball. He sent a diagonal long pass, the ball flying towards the wing. And Zhang Jun was sprinting towards the wing as well!

"Zhang Jun chases after the ball like a hunting leopard! A quick counter-attack from Volendam, and Marseille are desperately tracking back!"

No matter what, he had to control this ball! Zhang Jun was still battling with the defender as he ran. Controlling the ball in these circumstances was a significant test for any player.

The ball flew towards the wing, where space was limited, further increasing the difficulty.

Zhang Jun had initially intended to hook the ball with his foot, but he saw that the ball had a forward momentum as it bounced, making it difficult to control. He decided to hook the ball behind him and then turn to break free. He leaned on his opponent, stretched out his arms, leaned back slightly, extended his left foot, and hooked the ball!

At the same time, the opponent also stretched out his left foot to intercept the ball. But Zhang Jun successfully hooked the ball behind him, while the opponent stomped on his left ankle.

The ball gracefully arced behind them, while Zhang Jun cried out and tumbled over the sideline.

Adriaanse stood up, anxiously watching the scene from afar. The referee was running towards them.

"Oh! Damn it! A foul by Marseille has stopped Volendam's fast break! Zhang Jun is down on the sidelines, looking like he's in some pain! His teammates rushed over, and the scene is starting to get chaotic!"

"Hey! You did that on purpose, didn't you?" The quick-tempered Heiner rushed up to confront the offending player.

"Hey! Watch your mouth!" The Marseille players weren't willing to back down either, and they crowded around.

"What do you want? Bastard! I'll strangle you!"

"Come on! Come on! You think I'm afraid of you?"

"To hell with it, calm down!"

"Break it up! Break it up!"

It was a real mess. Some Volendam fans were whistling non-stop, adding to the chaotic scene.

Meanwhile, Volendam's team doctor was treating Zhang Jun. They used a spray to cool the injury, reduce the pain and swelling, and then patted Zhang Jun on the shoulder and said, "How are you feeling?"

Zhang Jun frowned and shook his head. "I'm okay, I'm okay. I can still play."

"Okay, I'll help you up. Be careful, protect your ankle."

With the help of the team doctor, Zhang Jun stood up again. On the other side, the conflict had ended with the referee's intervention. The cost was a yellow card for both Heiner and the offending player.

"Look! Zhang Jun is up! He's bouncing, no problem! The whole stadium welcomes their hero's return with applause!"

Heiner looked at Zhang Jun. "Are you okay? I taught that bastard a lesson for you!" He waved his fist.

"The cost was a yellow card, right?" Zhang Jun said with a wry smile. "We still have the next leg. You're a key striker, so be careful! I'm fine, let's play."

"A free kick near the sideline, at a thirty-degree angle to the goal. Marseille is satisfied, because they not only stopped a fast break, but this free kick poses a relatively small threat to the goal."

Van Persie placed the ball on the spot. Since that Dutch Cup game, Zhang Jun had kept his promise, and Van Persie took all the free kicks, while Zhang Jun was responsible for getting into the box and poaching rebounds.

Van Persie looked up and saw Zhang Jun preparing to move into the box, then stopped him. "Hey, how's your foot?"

"Thanks for your concern, perfectly normal," Zhang Jun replied.

"Good, you take this one." He pointed to the ball at his feet.

"Me?" Zhang Jun pointed to himself.

"I'm not confident I can curl it in with my right foot from this angle," Van Persie said to Zhang Jun. He was a left-footed player, and his right foot wasn't as skilled. "But you should be able to, disciple of Baggio."

In the end, Zhang Jun stood in front of the ball, while Van Persie waited in the box, looking ready to pounce on a rebound.

Zhang Jun stamped his left foot; it was still a little numb, but it should be fine after a run. Using it as a supporting foot shouldn't be a problem. A right-footed curler? He squinted at the near post of the goal. There wasn't much space there besides the goalkeeper and a defender. Considering the curve of the ball, it was unlikely to go in. What about the far post? Comparatively, the curve of the ball wasn't a problem, but it would have to pass through a crowd of people and evade the goalkeeper's block, which wouldn't be easy. Could he go for the upper corner? He shifted his gaze again, stopping at the upper far corner of the goal. There were fewer obstructions here, and the ball could curl in, but… The biggest drawback was that the intention was too obvious, making it easy for Barthez to intercept. The bald-headed one was known for his quick reactions.

Then what about passing? Zhang Jun thought to himself, looking at the crowded goalmouth.

"This free kick will be taken by Zhang Jun after all. Will he choose to shoot directly or pass? Barthez is a little nervous, because his opponent has scored five free kicks directly into the net."

The referee blew his whistle. Zhang Jun waved his hand, ran up, and swung his leg! He kicked!

The ball flew up, drawing a small arc, bypassing the human wall formed by two players. Then it spun quickly towards the goal! The ball was flat and fast, and the goalmouth was instantly a mess! Van Persie shook off his marker at the near post, and he stretched out his foot!

"It's a pass!"

Barthez quickly assessed the situation and moved towards the near post, ready to block Van Persie's shot.

But Van Persie didn't kick the ball. His leg wasn't fully extended; it seemed like he was deliberately letting it go! The ball flew past his toes!

Neither Heiner nor the opposing defender behind him touched the ball. The ball fell towards the far post!

Barthez was shocked. "Damn it!" He twisted his body to punch the ball away, but it was too late. His palm only grazed the ball, and the ball accurately found the back of the net before the defender at the far post could clear it!

Goal!

"GooooAL! A smile! Zhang Jun's smile! Former world number one goalkeeper Barthez is helpless; he was tricked by Zhang Jun and Van Persie! A beautiful free kick routine!"

Zhang Jun stood where he was, smiling and opening his arms, waiting for his teammates to come and embrace him. Even after scoring against Barthez, he was still just smiling, the terrifying Zhang Jun!

Barthez picked the ball out of the net in frustration and booted it forward. Drogba, on the other hand, was comforting his senior. "It's okay, Fabien. It's just a draw. We have an away goal; it's not that bad. Besides, it's not like we can't win."

"That number 11, he cheated!" Barthez muttered, pouting. "A direct shot… I heard he learned to take free kicks from Baggio. It seems it's true."

"Hey, we're both number 11. No matter what the result of the match, I'm going to ask him to swap jerseys," Drogba said with a smile. "It's quite an interesting match, isn't it?"

"Yeah, quite interesting. But the goalkeeper doesn't think so," Barthez winked. "Before the match, the media said it would be a game for the strikers, implying that the goalkeepers would be the unfortunate ones. After the game, should I go and swap jerseys with their number 1?"

The two men laughed. They still had the leisure to joke about it at this stage of the game. It was indeed a very interesting match, wasn't it?

※※※

Sophie opened her eyes. It was just past four in the morning, Beijing time, but she couldn't sleep. It must be past nine in the evening in the Netherlands, right? Zhang Jun was working hard for a victory, but she couldn't help him at all. Although going to school was important, she still felt a little unwilling!

Zhang Jun, I'm watching you play, keep going!

Sophie stroked the ring on her hand, murmuring in her heart.

※※※

"Zhang Jun, who scored a goal, is performing even more actively! He's running tirelessly. It seems that the foul didn't affect him at all. On the other hand, Marseille's Drogba is equally excited, even often defending Zhang Jun in midfield!"

Veronique was a small stadium, but the fans here were very enthusiastic. They sang, clapped rhythmically, and waved their arms non-stop, making the six thousand-seat Veronique seem like ten thousand.

It's not to say that a good team will necessarily have good fans, but a good team will definitely have a group of good fans behind them, wearing the number "12" jersey, fighting alongside the team, whether at home or away.

The game had reached this point. Although the score was tied, the competition was even more intense. Volendam wouldn't think that drawing with Marseille at home was something to be proud of, and Marseille absolutely couldn't imagine losing to Volendam. The players on both sides were working hard, and their stamina was rapidly depleting after the sixty-fifth minute. At this time, they needed motivation, motivation from the stands.

Marseille's fans sang the French national anthem, the magnificent "La Marseillaise," to cheer on the team. But they were quickly and ruthlessly "suppressed" by the Volendam fans, who had the advantage in numbers. The song "Zhang Jun Bless Volendam" sounded again. The fast-paced song, coupled with their clapping, sounded like more than just six thousand people.

There were twenty minutes left in the game, and the score was still deadlocked.

Zhang Jun fell back to midfield to receive the ball. He met Drogba again. This time, the ball at his feet was stolen. Drogba's legs were slightly longer, giving him a slight advantage.

"Marseille midfield intercepts the ball, counter-attack!"

Zhang Jun desperately chased back after losing the ball. He didn't want this mistake to originate from his dribbling being intercepted.

Drogba was very good at dribbling for long distances, but Zhang Jun had the advantage in speed. Dribbling with the ball was never as fast as running without it. Drogba was quickly caught up.

"Zhang Jun is actively tracking back. He's caught up with his opponent. The two number 11 strikers are entangled together! This is the fifth duel between the two in this match. The previous four were evenly split. Who will win this time?"

His teammates were running forward; he could have passed the ball and made a run, but seeing this oriental man with the same number on his back, he wanted to break through him, to defeat him.

"Drogba slows down, while Zhang Jun takes the opportunity to get in front of him, blocking him!"

Kozeal changed direction and ran towards Zhang Jun, shouting, "Well done, Zhang Jun! I'll take care of the rest…" Before he could finish, Drogba suddenly accelerated and cut sideways! Kozeal was stunned for a moment, and then he saw Zhang Jun rushing out, following closely.

Hey, not bad explosive power. Drogba thought of stomping the ball behind him, wanting to change direction and accelerate the breakthrough, but Zhang Jun saw through his plan and quickly adjusted.

"Didier!" A defender teammate ran up from behind, speeding forward from the wing, calling out Drogba's name.

Drogba noticed, but Zhang Jun didn't miss this situation either. Drogba leaned his body to the left, swinging his right foot as if to pass the ball out.

His foot left the ball. Now was the time to intercept! Zhang Jun made a tackle-like move, his left foot poking at the ball. But Drogba quickly retracted his right foot, which had already been raised. He used the inside of his foot to pass the ball to the left of his body, to Zhang Jun's right.

At this time, Zhang Jun was helpless. He had been tricked. He could only watch as Marseille's number 11 dribbled past him on his right, and then fired a long shot before Louis Link could block him, but the ball went just wide of the goal.

"Ah! Drogba successfully broke through Zhang Jun! He won their fifth duel! But the long shot that followed was a bit hasty. Was he considering Kozeal and Louis Link's pincer attack from front and back?"

Kozeal pulled Zhang Jun, who was still sitting on the ground, up. "Get closer to him when defending, actively press him. That way he can't calmly do that series of moves, and then find the right time to go in for the tackle, got it…"

Drogba ran back to his own half, and as he passed Zhang Jun, he turned around and held up three fingers, shaking them.

"That kid!" Zhang Jun cursed under his breath. "Just because he broke through me once, he's getting cocky! No way, I have to find a chance to get past him! I have to let him know who's the boss here!" He patted his butt and ran forward, completely ignoring Kozeal, who was giving him a defensive lesson.

Kozeal looked at Zhang Jun's back, then helplessly spread his hands and shrugged.

※※※

This was a very exciting match, so much so that many fans didn't believe that there was so little time left when they realized it: It felt like the two sides had only had a few attacking and defensive transitions, how could so many minutes have passed?

Exciting matches make people unaware of the passage of time, while dull matches only make people want to sleep.

The game was coming to an end, but Volendam's fans were still shouting, "Victory! Victory! Victory!" Their throats had been at it for over eighty minutes, non-stop since the opening whistle.

Faced with such fans, what was the best way to repay them? Victory, it was victory, only victory.

Adriaanse called up a substitute striker. He had previously replaced Heiner, who had a yellow card, with a midfielder. Now he would replace Zhang Jun. Although somewhat reluctantly, it seemed that he could only accept the reality of a home draw. He had to save his energy for the league.

Van Persie was dribbling the ball, cleverly dodging his opponent's tackle, and then suddenly accelerating forward with the ball! Marseille's defense tightened, thinking he was going to shoot directly. But he flicked the ball with his left foot, and the ball lightly passed over the heads of the defenders. Zhang Jun started running, chasing after the ball! He had a chance to face the goalkeeper directly!

But there was still someone who was always wary of Zhang Jun!

"Drogba actually rushed up to defend Zhang Jun! He's back defending in the penalty area in the final moments!"

Drogba rushed up from behind Zhang Jun, hoping to unexpectedly poke the ball away. But as if he had eyes in the back of his head, Zhang Jun lifted his left foot and lightly hooked the ball that was bouncing towards him behind him. The ball just grazed past Drogba, who was lunging forward!

"A brilliant dribble!" The commentators were cheering for Zhang Jun.

Zhang Jun turned to avoid the last defender. He was still facing away from the goal. He had to adjust the ball back as soon as possible, facing Barthez. Because Drogba and Marseille's defenders weren't suffering from infantile paralysis; they were quick to react and could quickly reorganize their defense and surround him. All that would take was two short seconds, or even less.

Barthez saw Drogba being tricked so easily and rushed out. It was a very risky move, but the bald-headed goalkeeper was always like this.

"What is Zhang Jun going to do? He's still facing away from the goal!"

Zhang Jun didn't turn around. Facing away from the goal, he raised his right foot again and hooked it! The ball flew over his head, and over Barthez's shiny head, and then beautifully, unbelievably, driving the fans crazy… it fell into the empty net just like that!

A backheel lob over the goalkeeper!

The commentators were stunned for a full second before they roared, "GoooooooooooooooooooooooooooAL! In the eighty-eighth minute, Zhang Jun puts his team ahead! He scored a juggling-like goal! A backheel lob facing away from the goal, so imaginative! Marseille has been dealt a heavy blow! Barthez's reckless rush has led to this great goal!! Zhang Jun is truly the God of Veronique!"

As if to show their agreement, thousands of fans sang "Zhang Jun Bless Volendam." One man scored two goals, defeating the powerful Marseille. Tonight, God's name is "Zhang Jun."

It took Zhang Jun a long time to break free from his frenzied teammates. If he hadn't gotten out, someone would have died. He would have been the first player to be crushed to death by his teammates while celebrating a goal. That would have been really unlucky.

Marseille's players were already in position to kick off. There were a few minutes left. They had to equalize, otherwise they would really lose face. When Zhang Jun passed Drogba, he spread his hands, shrugged, and shook his head. He used body language to very clearly tell the other man, "I'm sorry, this is Veronique, not the Velodrome."

Drogba turned his face away, but unfortunately, he saw the big screen again.

1:2, Marseille were behind, with six minutes left.

※※※

This exciting and intense first leg of the UEFA Cup round of sixteen ended with an unexpected victory for the home team, Volendam. Marseille threw everything they had at the end, but were still unable to break down Volendam's defense. Zhang Jun was substituted off after scoring the goal. Adriaanse brought on not the original striker, but a center-back. In the final few minutes, Volendam didn't have a single genuine striker on the field, and the scene was extremely passive. But they managed to hold on, securing a valuable victory.

Although Marseille's situation wasn't bad, after all, they had an away goal. But in the eyes of the French media, Marseille's loss to Volendam was like an eight-magnitude earthquake, the situation was "simply terrible!"

The most dazzling figure in this match was naturally Zhang Jun, who scored two goals. He was not only named man of the match but also received praise from many experts. Two people's comments were particularly noteworthy.

"He is a very promising person. He has the qualities to conquer the world, and now is the time for him to show the world these qualities."

"Zhang is a hard-working lad, and of course very talented. Everything that happened last summer was too unfair to him. But now everything is in the past, and it's a great pity that I didn't have the chance to play with him…"

The former was Marco van Basten, and the latter was Roberto Baggio.

Despite all kinds of praise coming his way, Zhang Jun maintained a rare humility, because Sophie was behind him reminding him to stay calm and not be arrogant.

What about Drogba's number 11 jersey? Zhang Jun naturally kept it, and he put away all the jerseys he had swapped with his opponents. A long time later, those would be a very, very valuable treasure.