Chapter 275 (Part 2)

Qiu Suhui had yet to announce the starting lineup. His smoke and mirrors tactic was truly making it difficult for Lippi to be certain.

Lippi held different views from the Italian media. He consistently believed that Zhang Jun and the unassuming Li Yongle were the most threatening players on the Chinese team. He couldn't quite figure out Zhang Jun, unable to define him, making it difficult to predict what he would do.

Such a person was the most dangerous.

If Zhang Jun didn't play, he wouldn't need to waste a defender to mark the Chinese team's forwards. He could allow the full-backs to attempt to support the attack, and Pirlo could also be freed up. But if Zhang Jun was on the field, he had to ensure that a center-back was assigned to man-mark him, and his movements up front would put a certain amount of pressure on Italy's defense.

Now, not knowing whether Zhang Jun would play or not, he couldn't finalize his lineup and tactics.

Qiu Suhui was equally troubled by whether to play Zhang Jun. With the match time approaching, Zhang Jun's fever had only slightly subsided. He was still dizzy, and the team doctor advised against letting Zhang Jun play. However, Zhang Jun himself had a strong desire to fight, making it difficult to persuade him not to play.

Zhang Jun's presence would increase their fighting strength, but he could also become a burden due to his physical condition.

What made it even more of a headache for him was that the team doctor and Zhang Jun were right in front of him, each expressing their views and arguing.

"Your physical condition absolutely doesn't allow you to play! Your fever hasn't gone down."

"Who says my fever hasn't gone down? I just have a slight headache, but it's nothing. This little illness isn't enough to make me rest."

"Do you know what you're doing? You're overdrawing your athletic lifespan!"

"For a tournament like the World Cup, I'm willing to overdraw it."

Qiu Suhui couldn't bear it any longer. He slapped the bedside table with his hand: "What's all the noise? Are you the coaches, or am I the coach?"

Both of them fell silent.

Qiu Suhui looked at the two of them and said, "Zhang Jun, you'll still start this game."

Zhang Jun's face lit up with joy, and the team doctor was about to speak, but Qiu Suhui gestured for him to wait. He continued to say to Zhang Jun: "Don't be happy too soon. If you don't perform well enough, I'll take you off immediately, even if the game has just started. Understand?"

"Understood!" Zhang Jun replied, puffing out his chest.

"Then go back and prepare."

After sending Zhang Jun away, he turned to the team doctor and said, "Dr. Liu must still be blaming me for letting Zhang Jun play."

Dr. Liu didn't say anything, but his silence revealed that he was indeed angry.

Qiu Suhui smiled. "I know that Zhang Jun isn't well yet, but I still want to let him play. If this were just a normal warm-up match, a friendly, or even the Asian Cup, I wouldn't let him play, no matter how much he insisted. But this is different. This is the World Cup. Dr. Liu, you haven't been here for long, maybe you can't understand what a World Cup means to these players. Being able to play here is a lifetime of glory, and for that glory, they are willing to give up a lot. I respect his choice, because it only comes once every four years. Let him be willful this once."

Dr. Liu sighed and said nothing more. He knew that he couldn't influence the head coach's decision, let alone decide what the players themselves thought. In the end, he was just a doctor. He only had a chance to appear when the players were injured, and that was it.

Qiu Suhui didn't explain any further. He told Dr. Liu to return to his room. He needed to seize the last bit of time to make some adjustments to the tactical arrangements for Zhang Jun's appearance.

On the other other side, after repeated consideration, Lippi also decided to assume that Zhang Jun would start and arrange his tactics accordingly. He figured it out; regardless of whether Zhang Jun played or not, he would stick to his own set of tactics, seeking victory through stability. Results were the only hard truth.

※※※

Back in his room, Zhang Jun faced Yang Pan's inquiring gaze and only said three words: "I'm starting."

Yang Pan asked, "Do you know that Inzaghi isn't playing?" This was just reported, the news had been broadcast.

Zhang Jun nodded.

"And you still decided to start?"

"This is the World Cup, Yang Pan. No player would give up the opportunity to play in the World Cup, right? Even if Inzaghi doesn't play, I'm still starting."

"That's true…" Yang Pan lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling and muttering. "This is the World Cup, no one will give up this opportunity. Lippi not letting Pippo play, Pippo must be very uncomfortable in his heart…"

"Hey, Yang Pan…"

"What?"

"This match is also very different for you, right? After all, it's your first time starting a World Cup match wearing the captain's armband. Aren't you worried about yourself?"

"Why should I worry? Even if Coach Qiu doesn't give me this armband, I'll still play like this. Giving it to me doesn't change anything. Can't you see? Coach Qiu has always had me play the role of his mouthpiece, which is cultivating me to be the captain. Look at the starting lineup for this match. What's the difference between this national team and the Olympic team? Coach Qiu is getting bolder and bolder, it's so blatant, so blatant…" Yang Pan understood everything in his heart, he just didn't usually say it.

It wasn't until Yang Pan said it that Zhang Jun noticed the fact that Coach Qiu was cultivating Yang Pan to be the captain. Looking at Yang Pan lying on the bed, he suddenly felt that the paths he and Yang Pan would take in the future would not be the same. The two of them were embarking on two different paths… But one thing Zhang Jun was sure of was that no matter what path they took, the final destination would definitely be the same. So-called different paths leading to the same destination, that was it.

※※※

July 1st. There were two round of sixteen matches on this day, A1 vs. B2 and A2 vs. B1. The match that Zhang Jun was determined to participate in was A2 vs. B1, China vs. Italy, with kickoff at eight in the evening.

Before them, the in-form Brazil team defeated the United States 2-0 and advanced to the quarterfinals. Kaka played the entire match, performing excellently and providing one assist.

Not long after the match ended, Zhang Jun received a call from him: "We've advanced to the quarterfinals! Zhang Jun, I'm waiting for you!"

"Damn it! Your opponent was the United States, ours is Italy. I'm very clear about our own capabilities. I don't expect to beat them…" Zhang Jun stood alone outside the locker room answering the phone. There was very strict security here, no reporters could get close. The staff members coming and going were busy with their own affairs, and no one paid attention to him, so he had a fairly private space.

"Then why are you clamoring to play?"

"I just want to prove something. Although I can't beat Italy, I'll make them suffer a little."

Kaka didn't speak. He knew that Zhang Jun had a knot in his heart. "Then I wish you good luck."

"I should be saying that to you. Brazil is the favorite to win this year's World Cup. You're the one who needs good luck!" Zhang Jun laughed.

All the arrangements had been made, and now was a period of adjustment before the start of the match, very brief. As Zhang Jun pushed open the door to enter the locker room after finishing the phone call, he happened to see Yang Pan standing up. "Alright, let's go out!" he said to everyone.

Yang Pan wore the yellow captain's armband, looking particularly energetic. In Chinese football, which emphasized seniority, he should be considered the youngest national team captain.

He stood at the very front of the team, followed by goalkeeper An Ke, and then center-back Liu Peng, who was replacing Zheng Jun in this match. In this match, Qiu Suhui set a record by only including two veteran players in the starting lineup, and they were both players who played overseas. He didn't use a single domestic player.

He was already thinking about the next World Cup, training young players, training the team. Most of the people in this lineup would be the main players for the next four years, barring any unforeseen circumstances. Everyone else had been trained, and Liu Peng's opportunities were too few, so today was a good chance to train him.

Even in a match that was considered to be decided before the game, Qiu Suhui saw great value. Therefore, he repeatedly emphasized to everyone before the match: "Use your eyes and hearts to feel and learn. Why is Italy a world-class team? Playing against them is the best learning opportunity. I hope each of you can learn something from this match and apply it to various matches in the future."

His words sounded like "farewell words". Many people could hear it: This match would likely be their last match in this World Cup.

Zhang Jun stood at the back of the team. He touched his bracelet and closed his eyes: "Sophie, Dad, Mom, watch me play."

When he opened his eyes, a bright light appeared in front of him—he was already on the field.

※※※

This round of sixteen match was arranged at the home stadium of Bundesliga team Borussia Dortmund—Westfalenstadion. It was a coincidence, but it made this China's only true home game in the World Cup.

Because this was where An Ke fought, where he had his fans, and these fans were the most ardent fans in all of Germany. Because of An Ke, they were now all fans of the Chinese team.

For this match, nearly 20,000 Italian fans came, while the Chinese fans only numbered a few thousand due to various reasons. The remaining seats were all occupied by Borussia Dortmund fans. To cheer for the Chinese team, they all wore red clothes—the color of the Chinese team's uniform for this match—waved Chinese and German flags, and large portraits of An Ke. The entire stadium could hear their songs, clearly suppressing the momentum of the Italian fans. Compared to them, the real Chinese fans seemed more like supporting characters.

When the Chinese reporters saw this scene, they were all startled, and some even exclaimed: "If our own fans could do half as well as these people, that would be great. Look at the atmosphere here! Tsk tsk!"

An Ke was very moved. He was not someone who was easily moved. This time, the fans had done too much for him, more than he could have imagined. He once again felt that staying in Dortmund was such a correct decision.

"The match is about to begin! Let's take a look at the spectacle at Westfalenstadion. It's almost become a red ocean! Just because of one person, this has become the Chinese team's home ground! The 20,000 Italian fans seem insignificant! An Ke's loyalty has earned the respect of the Borussia Dortmund fans!" This was the voice of the German commentator.

Chinese on-site commentator Wang Jianxiang: "Before the match, people generally weren't optimistic about us, but look at the atmosphere here, I feel hope. This is the most famous devil's home stadium in the Bundesliga. It's very difficult for teams that come here to leave unscathed! Now, this is our home ground!"

Italian commentator: "We came with 20,000 fans, but I didn't expect this place to be a red world. It reminds me of the South Korean home ground four years ago. I hope the result of the match won't be a repeat of four years ago. Should Galliani consider exporting players to South Africa? Haha!"

Like this commentator, almost the entire field of red reminded the Italian players who participated in the Korea-Japan World Cup of that unpleasant summer four years ago. In their eyes, Chinese, Koreans, and Japanese all looked the same, there was no difference. Since there was no difference, the hatred of the Koreans could also be vented on the Chinese.

Suddenly, the Italian team was like a red bull seeing red, full of murderous intent.

This was the first time the Chinese team had stood on the stage of the World Cup knockout stage, but they did not show any nervousness. After the experience of the first three matches, these young men became more and more confident in themselves. They had even scored a goal against the world champion Brazil team, so what other teams were there to be afraid of?

The reason why Qiu Suhui liked trusting this group of young people with an average age of twenty-four was because he had taken a fancy to this point in them. After initially worshiping authority and powerhouses, they now just wanted to challenge this authority. This was also the reason why these children were most likely to succeed—they dared to challenge.

The 2006 World Cup in Germany was just the runway for their take-off. In South Africa in 2010, he wanted them to make a name for themselves in the world.

※※※

"The referee blows the whistle, the match begins! The Chinese team is kicking off first. They are wearing red jerseys and red shorts, attacking from left to right. The Italian team is wearing white away jerseys, attacking from right to left. Friends, this is the second round of sixteen match of the 2006 FIFA World Cup in Germany…"

After the Chinese team kicked off, they were not in a hurry to attack. This was Qiu Suhui's instruction. Italy was very stable, and there was almost no chance to launch a quick counterattack. On the contrary, it was possible to be intercepted and counterattacked. Therefore, at the beginning of the match, they should try to control the ball and attract their main players before seeking a counterattack. After all, with the level of the Italian defenders and defensive midfielders, even Cruz Li, who had the best footwork in the team, was not confident that he could protect the ball in the enemy's formation. Because one thing was that Italian defenders were different from Premier League defenders: if they really couldn't get the ball, they would definitely foul without hesitation, and the location of the foul was also very particular, usually not posing a great threat to the goal.

For someone like Cruz who liked to control the ball, all it took was one move to deal with him: foul. If his rhythm and feel for the ball were disrupted, he wouldn't be able to play well.

Kaka had experienced this deeply in Serie A. As an attacking midfielder, he had made all of the opposing defenders receive yellow cards in a single match several times, which showed how rough the Italian defenders were.

After passing the ball a few times, the ball was finally passed to Cruz.

The Chinese team was still using the same 4-4-2 formation that they started in the first three matches. However, there were slight adjustments in the details. Yang Pan leaned towards the right, more like a right winger, while Cruz leaned towards the center, a true attacking midfielder, and the left side was left to Xiang Tao, who liked to support the attack with late runs.

Now, Cruz was about to experience "Italian-style defense."

As soon as his body made contact with Gattuso, Cruz felt immense pressure. That kid seemed to have inexhaustible strength, constantly impacting him, and the force was just right, not causing him to fall directly to the ground, but making him very uncomfortable.

Not only was he bumping, but his hands and feet were also constantly moving. When Cruz turned, he turned with him. When Cruz stopped suddenly, he also stopped suddenly. When Cruz accelerated, his hand immediately went up. Several times, Gattuso's hand almost grabbed Cruz's mouth.

Shit! Is this Italian defense? Cruz cursed inwardly after being grabbed by Gattuso's shoulder again. Although Coach Qiu had the defenders imitate the Italian defenders in offensive and defensive drills before the match, the degree of defense was simply child's play compared to what Cruz was currently enduring.

He looked up to find someone to pass the ball to, but suddenly felt something was wrong under his feet. A glance in the corner of his eye revealed that Gattuso was grabbing him and lunging his foot towards the ball!

How could he let you intercept it like this? Cruz quickly pushed the ball to the side, avoiding Gattuso's foot. He wanted to take advantage of the momentum to break through, but as soon as he turned around, he saw an Italian defender intercepting the ball. It was the world-class center-back—Alessandro Nesta.

It turned out that he had been waiting for this opportunity all along. Being in AC Milan together, he and Gattuso had a tacit understanding, like lions hunting prey. After struggling for a long time, Cruz realized that he was just prey that had fallen into a trap. He looked at Nesta's back, shook his hand, and gave up chasing.

Having encountered a tenacious defense that was completely different from anything he had experienced before for the first time, he was defeated miserably.

Nesta only took a few steps, shook off Cruz, and passed the ball to Pirlo.

In this match, Italy had fielded a very luxurious attacking lineup. Piero and Cassano were forwards, with Totti supporting and organizing behind them. And on the bench were big-name stars such as Vieri, Inzaghi, and Gilardino.

Zhang Jun really wanted to compete against Inzaghi on the same field, but he could only look at Lippi's face now.

But he was not short of rivals. Cassano, who was about the same age, was picked by the Chinese media to be his opponent. In the 2004 European Championship, Cassano performed quite well, scoring two goals, and almost became Italy's hero. I believe many people still remember the scene when he scored but learned that Italy had been eliminated, and squatted on the ground crying bitterly. His bad boy image had been sublimated in the hearts of many people.

Two years had passed, and he was still a problem child, still causing trouble, but no one had ever doubted his talent. In Rome, to restrain him, he had been made to wear the captain's armband. And in the national team, letting him surpass Vieri and Inzaghi to start was also a kind of deliberate cultivation by Lippi: He and Gilardino were the future of Italian football, and he, who had become famous earlier, also had to shoulder greater responsibilities.

Zhang Jun had not played against Cassano yet. The only time he played against Roma, Cassano was only substituted on at the last moment, and by that time, Zhang Jun was about to be substituted off. He helped AC Milan win 1-0 against Roma and win the mid-season championship. Cassano had no performance other than a few arguments with the referee.

Pirlo didn't dribble much and gave the ball to Totti.

Totti taking the ball made the Chinese team's defense nervous. Although this person was no match for his younger brother Cassano in terms of causing trouble, no one could deny that he was currently the best attacking midfielder in Italy, good at long shots, excellent at set pieces, with outstanding footwork, strong physique, inspiration, and a good overall view… These descriptions of the Prince of Rome were not an exaggeration.

This was a world-class figure taking the ball. Li Yongle kept reminding himself of this, to keep up with the opponent's rhythm, to stick to him like glue. After all, he was also a defensive midfielder from Serie A. What Gattuso could do, he could do too!

Totti started to dribble the ball, and Li Yongle followed. He feinted, suddenly using his heel to flick the ball and change direction! Li Yongle slipped and went to tackle.

But he didn't tackle it, Totti stepped over it!

"Oh oh oh!!! Italy has broken through! Totti passed very easily!"

Cassano came back and played a one-two with Totti, then Totti shot!

An Ke flew to grab the ball, not even giving away a corner kick.

The German fans at Westfalenstadion all shouted An Ke's name in unison. This shout must have been very familiar to An Ke, because in the Bundesliga, he could always hear it during home matches. Whenever he made a wonderful save, this sound would ring out.

"An Ke! An Ke! An—Ke!! An Ke! An Ke! An—Ke!!"

It sounded a bit like the English word "uncle."

An Ke decided that today was his home ground, his territory. Whether or not Italy scored was up to him.

Being shouted at by the fans like this, he became excited, hugging the ball and shouting: "There's nothing to be afraid of with Italy! This is our home ground! Zhang Jun, give it your all!"

Zhang Jun rolled his eyes, listening to An Ke's shout, as if he hadn't contributed anything. In fact, he wanted to contribute but couldn't—he hadn't even gotten the ball yet.

Yang Pan retreated and waved at An Ke: "Stop talking nonsense! Kick the ball!" Now that he was the captain, his tone of voice was different.

The ball was kicked out with a big foot. Cruz was not good at headers, this ball was being contested by Zhang Jun and Cannavaro, who was marking him. In terms of height, Zhang Jun was taller than Cannavaro, but that didn't mean he could definitely win the header. Cannavaro was positioned very well, and his judgment of the ball's landing point showed his experience. Plus, Zhang Jun was still dizzy, so the result was naturally that the ball was headed back by the Italian captain.

Fortunately, Cruz intercepted the ball in front of Gattuso, and then passed it to Yang Pan, who was leaning from the right towards the middle.

Without waiting for the ball to stop, Yang Pan swung his foot and shot a powerful shot. Although the ball flew high over the crossbar, it could be considered a retaliatory gesture.

Wearing the captain's armband, he also hoped to make a performance to prove that he deserved to be the captain. Therefore, facing many of his AC Milan teammates, he was also ruthless. As long as he could succeed, what did it matter if he stepped on his teammates' corpses?