The referee finally blew the whistle to signal the end of the match.
The match had lasted a full ninety-five minutes, two minutes longer than expected due to stoppage time.
But in the end, it was finally over.
China had fought until the very last moment and exhausted every ounce of strength. When the final whistle sounded, almost all of the Chinese players collapsed onto the pitch. But Argentina's players were hardly in any better shape.
They had also given it everything.
Although they had been as lackadaisical as ever, and their attacks had still failed to come together as a whole, they had genuinely fought hard.
Especially Messi. He was twenty-seven now, and he would be thirty-one at the next World Cup.
More importantly, he had lost to Yang Yang once again.
This was the first time he had encountered Yang Yang in a National Team match. He had originally felt that he should be able to beat his opponent, because China Team had no strength whatsoever in world football. As the world's most populous country and second-largest economic power, its football was simply no match for anyone.
Of course, Asian football was just as weak.
Yet in this seemingly lopsided contest, China Team had relied on Yang Yang's first-half goal to drag the match all the way to the end, haul Argentina into a battle of attrition, and ultimately preserve their one-goal advantage through sheer determination, producing yet another upset.
One to nil. That score remained unchanged until the final whistle.
During the last few minutes of the match, more than ten thousand Chinese and Chinese-descended fans throughout the stadium rose from their seats and sang China's national anthem at the top of their lungs, cheering on the players. The magnificent scene was immensely stirring, and it seemed