"I was extremely dissatisfied with our performance in this match!"
After the El Clásico, the press conference hall at Camp Nou was packed with journalists. Cameras and microphones were all pointed at Yang Yang and Valverde, who faced them from the front. The reporters had come from major newspapers and television stations around the world.
No one had expected Yang Yang's first sentence to cause such an uproar.
Dissatisfied?
Or extremely dissatisfied?
You won three-nil, and you're still dissatisfied?
What did he mean by that?
Almost everyone present had the same thought. They all felt that Yang Yang had deliberately said something shocking.
Valverde, sitting beside Yang Yang, looked extremely grim.
Before entering the press conference hall, he had kept reminding himself that he had to maintain his composure. This was Camp Nou, after all. No matter what, as the host, he had to show some grace. He couldn't embarrass himself too badly.
But when he saw Yang Yang waiting in the press conference hall, especially that broad smile on his face, Valverde felt a stabbing pain in his heart. He was so damn frustrated. Wasn't he?
Still, reason ultimately overcame emotion. He maintained a stiff smile in front of the media, politely greeting Yang Yang and the others before sitting down beside Yang Yang.
But he had never imagined that Yang Yang's first sentence would be this!
What the hell? Wasn't this a little too much?
You won, all right?
You got three points and extended your lead. Isn't that enough?
You're actually extremely dissatisfied?
Why don't you just ascend to heaven?
"In this match, we exposed a lot of problems."
"I just took a look at the statistics. Our passing accuracy was better than Barcelona's. Ours was ninety-one percent, while Barcelona's was eighty-six percent, a difference of