"Ha, you should've seen Van der Vaart's face after the match. His whole face was black."
That evening, at Ibrahimovic's home in Ouderkerk, Swedish Striker Ibrahimovic, who had scored the first goal of the new season just the night before, was grinning from ear to ear. He became especially animated whenever he talked about his longtime rival, Van der Vaart, whom he had never liked.
It immediately reminded Yang Yang of an idiom: a smug villain celebrating his success.
Not only Vermaelen—even his best friend Maxwell and their agent, Mino Raiola, wore helpless expressions, as if telling Yang Yang and Vermaelen, We don't know this kind of person.
But the thick-headed Swedish Striker merely bared his big mouth and kept laughing.
After getting to know him, one would realize that this was simply his personality.
The Italian fatty, Mino Raiola, had arrived in Amsterdam yesterday. He had only recently become Ibrahimovic's agent. Apparently, the Swedish Striker had gone through quite a few connections before taking the initiative to contact him. Since the Swedish Striker had run into trouble over the past few days, Raiola had immediately flown to Amsterdam to handle the matter and negotiate on his behalf.
According to what Ibrahimovic had let slip, after changing agents at the end of July this year, Raiola had been helping him contact Serie A clubs. That was the fat agent's home turf, but nothing had come of it yet.
"Don't get carried away. One goal in three matches isn't a record I can present to anyone."
After Ibrahimovic finished laughing smugly, Raiola casually poured a bucket of cold water over him.
The Swedish Striker gave an embarrassed smile. "The league only just started, didn't it? I haven't found my rhythm yet."
As he spoke, he slapped his chest hard and declared