Chapter 273 (Part 1)
Five-star red flag, you are my pride!
Five-star red flag, I am proud of you!
Cheering for you, blessing you,
Your name is more important than my life!

The red flag flutters, the red flag flutters, and the soaring aspiration flies higher and higher like white clouds.
The red flag flutters, the red flag flutters, and the young heart will not grow old!

--Many years later, Sun Nan's "Red Flag Fluttering" is still the favorite of the older generation of Chinese fans.

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The atmosphere in the Brazilian team's locker room was not relaxed, because the Chinese team was more difficult to deal with than they had imagined.

Pereira reminded his men: "Everyone felt it personally in the first half. The Chinese team is not as weak as some people said before the game. We can say that the two teams were evenly matched in the first half. It's just that they lacked a little luck. In the second half, we must seize the opportunity and score a goal at the beginning. 2:0 is safer than 1:0."

Kaka listened to the head coach's arrangement of tactics for the second half, but his mind was wandering. He really wanted to know what the Chinese team's locker room was like at this time, and what Zhang Jun was like.

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"If that ball went in, it would still be a tie! What a pity! Tsk tsk!"

"Yeah, yeah! We played so well in the first fifteen minutes!"

In the Chinese team's locker room, some players were not satisfied with the score. They felt that they clearly had more chances, but they failed to grasp them, which led to the current situation of being behind.

Zhang Jun didn't participate. He sat on the bench, with his head down and silent, definitely still regretting that goalpost.

Qiu Suhui knocked on the tactical board to quiet everyone down.

"I know you are very dissatisfied and unwilling to accept the result of the first half. You feel that at least it should be a tie. It's good to have this kind of momentum, but don't be blindly confident, even conceited. You have to see who our opponent is. The Brazilian team is not an opponent that can be defeated by momentum alone. We still need to pay attention to strategy."

Some of the players nodded, because Qiu Suhui was right.

"In the second half, we will switch to defensive counterattacks. We can't let Brazil play defensive counterattacks, that's the most dangerous thing. Also, seize any set-piece opportunity. We've practiced set pieces for so long, it's not a waste of effort. The opening game is very special. No matter how strong the team is, they can't show their full strength in this kind of occasion. On the contrary, we are more motivated as challengers. This is a global live broadcast. Whether we win or draw, we are all heroes. The pressure is always on the other side. We have nothing to worry about. Anyway, we have 'nothing to lose'." Qiu Suhui spread his hands and shrugged. The last sentence made everyone laugh, and the serious and depressing atmosphere just now disappeared all of a sudden.

"From now on, remember this firmly, not only this game, but all the remaining games in this World Cup: we are only participating in the World Cup for the second time, we have nothing to begin with, so we don't have to worry about losing anything. We can afford to lose more than any other team, but once we win, once we qualify for the group stage, we are heroes! Great heroes! Momentum is not omnipotent, but without momentum, it is absolutely impossible. I hope everyone can maintain this kind of energy in the remaining games. At the same time," Qiu Suhui emphasized, "Don't underestimate any opponent. With our current reputation, strength, and status, we are not qualified to underestimate any team."

Some people lowered their heads, probably blushing for the contempt in their hearts in the first half. Qiu Suhui was right, now anyone can look down on them, but they are not qualified to look down on others. Only when they have won glory for Chinese football and achieved results in the international football scene can they hold their heads high.

Historically, the Chinese men's football team has always had a very low status in Asia and in the hearts of many people. Many people use scolding them to show their football expertise and to show that they are true fans. While this approach is not right, the result is also caused by these players themselves. Who told them to be so disappointing for so many years? Now this World Cup, this opening game has given them a chance. Qiu Suhui wants them to be clear:

Respect must be earned, not waited for to be given.

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The fifteen-minute half-time break was too long for the anxiously waiting fans, but too short for the players. By the time Qiu Suhui had finished explaining everything, the time was almost up. He waved his hand to let the players go out and prepare to take the field.

Just as he walked out of the locker room, Zhang Jun suddenly grabbed Yang Pan and Li Yongle: "I think we should equalize the score as soon as possible, otherwise it will be bad if the Brazilian team widens the score again."

"I think so too, but it's not easy to score a goal." Li Yongle shrugged, "Brazil's defense is not strong, but their offense is strong enough, always suppressing our midfield, and unable to support you guys up front." He is the engine of the Chinese team's midfield, and he has a deep understanding of the situation in the first half. The Chinese team's midfield, which seems to be the strongest of the three lines, has been suppressed by Brazil's frontcourt since the middle of the first half, and has not achieved much.

Yang Pan nodded in agreement with Li Yongle's view. For a while in the first half, he, an attacking midfielder, became a full-back.

Zhang Jun didn't think so. He said to the two of them: "I know that we have absolute ball control at least one more time -- when we kick off in the second half." He held up one finger, "Yang Pan, do you remember the first goal we scored in the first game of the high school league?"

Yang Pan was stunned for a moment, and then recalled carefully. He and Zhang Jun had cooperated for so many years, and had played countless games and scored countless goals in those three years of high school. How could he still remember how the first goal was scored? In the end, Li Yongle reminded him: "The first opponent was Zhongxin Heavy Machinery, a strong team at the time..." As Zhang Jun's biggest rival in his student days, he naturally knew everything about Zhang Jun very well, and this first goal would not be so easy to forget.

Yang Pan patted his forehead: "I remember! That goal, right? Are you planning to... have you been thinking about this during the half-time break without saying a word?"

Zhang Jun smiled and said: "Yes, that's what I plan to do."

Li Yongle was a little surprised: "The success rate of doing that is too low, right?" He knew how difficult it was for them, who had never deliberately practiced it, to cooperate.

Zhang Jun patted Li Yongle: "With you, a long-pass freak, we are already halfway to success."

Yang Pan thought for a while, then nodded: "Okay, I think it's worth a try. Even if it doesn't work, it can scare them."

Both of them agreed, and Li Yongle naturally had no objections.

The three of them knew how that goal was scored, so naturally there was no need to get together and discuss it in detail. They just went straight onto the field, they had wasted a lot of time.

They were indeed the last three to come out, and the atmosphere at the stadium was as enthusiastic as before, making people's blood boil. The moment Zhang Jun stepped onto the field, he thought of his father. He had been forcing himself not to think about it, afraid of being distracted. But for some reason, he thought of it at this critical moment.

His father was his mentor on his football journey, but after bringing him into the palace of football, he didn't get to see him truly succeed. Dad, I'm on the World Cup stage now, can you see me?

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Mom was sitting in the empty home in Luoyang. She refused all interviews and filming from the media who came to Yao Dao's home, and wanted to watch her son's game quietly with her husband. She was sitting on the sofa, with her husband's photo on the seat next to her. Watching Zhang Jun and Yang Pan run out of the tunnel, she turned her head and said to the photo next to her: "The second half is about to start, Weiguo."

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"I really want to know what tactics the Chinese team will adopt in the second half. After fifteen minutes in the first half, the Brazilian team had a clear advantage. Now that the Brazilian team is leading, they can play however they want. What will the Chinese team do?" During the fifteen-minute half-time break, Wang Jianxiang was making various guesses about the second half like an ordinary fan, and then casually said them out when he started working.

On the one hand, he is a football commentator, but on the other hand, he is also a staunch Chinese fan. Now, it is becoming increasingly difficult for him to distinguish between these two identities.

The players from both sides stood on the field, ready to kick off. Wang Jianxiang turned off the microphone, took a sip of water, cleared his throat, and then turned on the microphone again, ready to start working.

"Good evening, audience friends! We are now at the Allianz Arena in Munich, Germany, broadcasting the opening match of the 2006 FIFA World Cup live for you! The two sides are the defending champion Brazil and China. Now the second half of the match is about to begin! China is 0:1 behind in the first half. Neither side has made any personnel adjustments in the second half. The second half will be kicked off by the Chinese team. What kind of start will they bring us?" Wang Jianxiang really felt that the Chinese team played exceptionally well in the first fifteen minutes of the first half. It would be great if they could maintain this in the second half.

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Zhang Jun had one foot on the football, and looked back at Li Yongle and Yang Pan. The two of them winked at him, knowing exactly what to do. Yang Pan is an attacking midfielder, but he is standing on the right sideline like a right winger, ready to sprint at any time.

"When I kick off, I'll pass the ball to you, and you pass it directly to Li Yongle behind." Zhang Jun instructed Wu Shangshan again. If he didn't explain it clearly, if he passed the ball to someone else, all his previous efforts would be in vain.

Wu Shangshan nodded without objection.

Merk stood outside the center circle, and then blew the whistle to kick off under everyone's gaze.

Zhang Jun took a deep breath, kicked the ball to Wu Shangshan, and then rushed forward directly. At the same time, Yang Pan on the sideline also sprinted along the sideline towards the baseline at a speed of 100 meters.

Wu Shangshan indeed passed the ball directly back to Li Yongle, who stopped the ball and then looked up to find someone.

Qiu Suhui saw the kick-off and then returned to his seat. He was still thinking about what adjustments to make in the second half, and his eyes were a little wandering, absent-minded, looking at the field.

Li Yongle clearly judged Yang Pan's route and Zhang Jun's follow-up speed. He knew it was time to act.

Swing the right leg, long pass!

The football flew from the Chinese team's backfield to the right baseline of the field.

Due to the TV broadcast angle, many people thought that there were no Chinese players in that area.

"The Chinese team launches an attack with a long pass, but it seems to be a bit too hard. Maybe no one can receive this ball."

Even many Chinese fans, after seeing Li Yongle kick the ball, thought it was over. Who could receive such a pass? Even if they managed to receive the ball, how could they control it? How could they cross? The Chinese players were too impatient! They wasted a ball possession opportunity for nothing!

But as the camera quickly shifted -- or rather, as the football shifted, because the camera was moving with the football -- they saw a red figure as fast as lightning, a number 7.

"Oh my god! Yang! He's so fast that even the camera can't keep up!" the German commentator exclaimed. It's not that he didn't see Yang Pan, he was just surprised that Yang Pan could run so fast.

While Yang Pan was desperately chasing the ball, Zhang Jun was also sprinting towards the penalty area in the middle. He was a little slower, but the timing was absolutely perfect.

Li Yongle's long pass was just right. Yang Pan managed to catch up with his full sprint speed. This speed made Carlos admit defeat - they opened up a body position. But what could he do after receiving the ball? How could he handle the ball in this high-speed state? Even if he stopped the ball, Carlos would be pressing up.

Yang Pan gritted his teeth, accelerated again, took two big steps, and then he flew out, swung his right foot out, and crossed directly in the air!

"Cross directly?! Who can keep up..."

Like this German commentator, many Brazilian fans didn't know what Yang Pan was doing. Besides giving the ball to the Brazilian players, what else was the use?

Dida took a few steps back, preparing to catch the ball. Juan, the center back in front of him, jumped up reflexively, but not to really head the ball, because he heard Dida shout behind him: "I'll catch it!"

So he didn't jump with all his strength at all.

Almost all the Brazilian players didn't notice one person, but Kaka noticed him. He shouted anxiously: "Be careful! There's someone in the middle..." Before he could finish his sentence, he saw a red figure with the number 11 suddenly jump up at high speed, gliding in the air with his arms outstretched like a bomber. He jumped much higher than Juan, and all the Brazilian defenders were stunned on the spot looking at this Chinese player who almost appeared out of nowhere. They all didn't expect that anyone could receive this ball.

Dida jumped up, ready to take the ball, but the football in his sight suddenly disappeared, replaced by a red shadow and a somewhat blurred number: 11.

Yang Pan's cross was also just right, exactly at the height of the forehead. At that moment, Zhang Jun didn't feel like he was on the World Cup stage. He seemed to be back in his first year of high school, with Captain Su Li's long pass, Yang Pan chasing the ball and then crossing directly, he followed up with a header, and the ball went in. Then there were cheers all around... In that small stadium, the cheers of more than two hundred people sounded like they were at the World Cup.

"Zhang Jun header! Dida... the ball... the ball is in! The ball is in!! The ball is in!! The ball is in!!! The ball is in!!! The ball is in——!!! This is the first goal in the history of the Chinese... Chinese team in the World Cup! The goal... the goal is in! Beautiful header! Zhang Jun! The goal is in! Only eight seconds into the second half! The goal is in..." Wang Jianxiang was incoherent, because at this moment he was crying, with tears streaming down his face. He didn't know what he was shouting at all, but he wanted to shout, until his voice was hoarse and he couldn't shout anymore.

At that moment, the whole of China was shouting like this at the moment when the football hit the net. If you opened the window, you would definitely hear someone roaring like Wang Jianxiang in the middle of the night: "The goal is in! The goal is in!!"

Some people even set off firecrackers. They had been prepared for a long time, but they didn't know how long it would take to use them. They didn't expect to light them so quickly now.

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Zhang Jun turned his head and watched the ball hit the net. Was it really in? He actually scored the first goal for the Chinese team?

Am I dreaming?

Although he planned this attack, he didn't expect it to go so smoothly. It wasn't until the deafening cheers of the Allianz Arena brought him back to reality.

Yes, I scored a goal!!

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Qiu Suhui jumped up before he could even warm up the leather seat. He was still thinking about how to play when they were 0:1 behind, but the Chinese team had already equalized the score themselves. This was simply... a classic raid!

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His teammates rushed up frantically, hugging him tightly, cheering, screaming, patting hard... At this moment, they were more united than ever.

"Hey, Zhang Jun. You are the main striker, so you are the most likely to score the first goal. Tell me, how do you plan to celebrate after scoring a goal? This is an action that will be recorded in history!" An Ke asked this irrelevant question one day when he was very bored.

At that time, Zhang Jun thought for a long time but didn't know how to answer An Ke's question. He rarely deliberately prepared celebration moves. Before scoring a goal, those tricks were all empty.

Some gossipy reporters had also asked Zhang Jun the same question, but he refused to answer without thinking. Li Yan also asked him as a friend. Everyone seemed to be looking forward to the Chinese team's first World Cup goal in this way.

Now the opportunity had come, but he was dumbfounded and didn't know what to do.

The crazy celebration ended under the intervention of the referee. Only then did Zhang Jun come to his senses. He looked at the stands full of red flags, and caught a glimpse of the five-star red flag logo on his chest. He thought he had found the most suitable celebration action.

He grabbed the front of his jersey with his right hand, lifted up the national flag, and then lowered his head and, in front of the Chinese fans' stands and in front of countless five-star red flags, gave the national flag on his chest a deep kiss.

This later became the most classic scene in the memory of countless Chinese fans, together with that beautiful raid, Wang Jianxiang's incoherent but passionate roar, coupled with Sun Nan's song "Red Flag Fluttering," it would be talked about by the Chinese people for many years to come.

And his action of kissing the national flag after scoring a goal for the national team almost became the same as the old soldier Shearer's celebration of raising his hand, and he never changed it.