An Imaginative Clearance

At halftime, Ayoub stopped Erik ten Hag just before he entered the locker room.

"Erik... do you think I'll still get a chance in the second half?"

Ayoub did not look happy, but he could not openly fall out with Erik ten Hag either. He could only try talking first.

"Relax, relax. I know you're anxious, but don't be anxious yet, okay? If you have a chance, then you'll have a chance. Do you understand what I mean? Go inside first."

Erik ten Hag pushed Ayoub toward the locker room. The moment he entered, he saw Tang Ye wrestling with Amrabat.

"Quiet down, everyone!"

Erik ten Hag roared, and the players in the locker room immediately ran back to their seats.

"A 3–1 scoreline is very good. Other than a very small number of players whose running distance hasn't been up to standard, I'm fairly satisfied with everything else in the first half."

"I've been trying to run."

Tang Ye raised his hand to remind him.

The high-intensity training had rapidly improved his stamina. Now, Tang Ye covered more ground in almost every match than he had in the last one.

Erik ten Hag turned to Tang Ye. "You can be more proactive with your running. That way, when the opposition presses, our back line can deal with the ball more easily."

After saying that, Erik ten Hag seemed to think of something and suddenly added, "Defense only. When attacking, um... just go by your instincts."

Tang Ye nodded.

Looks like I needed to track back more aggressively in the second half!

"Then there's the match itself. Their midfield is very strong, understand what I mean? You need to push up, press, and put pressure on their midfield."

Erik ten Hag made a pushing-forward gesture with his hand.

Speaking of pressing, Erik ten Hag had plenty more to say. "Pressing is a collective job. Haller and Nasser—Balazhit—you two need to move forward together, together. Press two players at the same time, so the opponents can feel fear."

"And then?"

Erik ten Hag's gaze rested on Haller and Balazhit for a moment each. He rubbed his hands together. "Strangle the midfield! Kill their midfield!"

"Should I run up too? I can tackle and win the ball from their number 10!"

Tang Ye suddenly said.

Erik ten Hag's eyes lit up.

That was indeed one way to do it.

But...

Erik ten Hag remembered Tang Ye's absurdly poor one-on-one defending and ultimately shook his head. "Just look for chances to get lucky in the final third. Maybe you can luck into a few more."

"Oh, okay."

Tang Ye rubbed his hands and glanced at his De Bruyne Curved Long Pass, which had already reached Lv. 3.

It felt like there was still a chance to widen the score!

After Erik ten Hag finished speaking, Haller suddenly came over and switched places with Amrabat. "Tang, I already have two goals today. Do you know what that means?"

"What does it mean?" Tang Ye did not understand at first.

"One more and I'll have a hat trick!"

Haller sat to Tang Ye's left, grabbed Tang Ye's right shoulder, and shook him repeatedly. "Do you understand what I mean? Pass me the ball, please!"

Haller had suddenly entrusted him with such a heavy responsibility, and Tang Ye felt enormous pressure. He could only give an ambiguous reply. "I-I'll do my best."

After resting for several minutes, Erik ten Hag began clapping, signaling for the players to get fired up. It was time to head into the tunnel and get ready.

After all the players had left, Mitchell van der Gaag suddenly stepped in front of Erik ten Hag. "Erik, did you see Yassin's expression? Are you really not going to put him on?"

After realizing that he might lose his starting spot, Ayoub had begun doing extra training as well.

Ayoub was very sly. He deliberately chose the first team's second training pitch for his extra sessions so that Erik ten Hag and Mitchell van der Gaag could see him training below.

In truth, Ayoub was only doing this because Erik ten Hag had emphasized things like "hard work will be rewarded" a few extra times during training.

Erik ten Hag looked left and right. Only after confirming that no one else was in the locker room did he speak. "What I need is genius. Genius like Tang."

"Hard work?"

For some reason, Erik ten Hag suddenly laughed. "Michel, if hard work could change everything, why couldn't I reach one of Europe's top five leagues after playing football my whole life? Was it because I didn't want to?"

Erik ten Hag's words plunged Mitchell van der Gaag into silence.

Though he was reluctant to accept it, competitive sports were this cruel.

What mattered was never what you did in training.

What mattered was what you could do in a match!...

The second half began. Tang Ye took a fresh piece of gum from his pocket, spat the flavorless old gum into the new gum's wrapper, and stuffed it back into his pocket.

New gum, a new match state! "Twente attack in the final third. Number 10 Ziyech carries the ball toward the top of the arc himself."

"Such smooth dribbling. Ramselaar is in real trouble now, he doesn't know how to deal with him."

"Ziyech, from outside the box, he shoots from range!"

"Holy shit!"

Wang Chao, sitting at his computer desk, clutched his head with both hands. Twente's number 10, Ziyech, had blasted a long-range shot straight through Ruiter's goal.

The score had become 3–2!

What the hell, who said Twente were bad? That was a fucking worldie.

They're both number 10s, so why is this Ziyech so much better than Balazhit?

Utrecht are hopeless. Ten players dragging down our Tang King. It's 1v21, what's Tang King supposed to do?

Stop calling him Tang King. Your Tang King has gone invisible again.

It's not time for Lucky Bro to turn it on yet.

Streamer, can you raise the resolution? It may be pirated, but I still have standards for video quality!

Ziyech's long-range strike left the Utrecht players somewhat dazed.

After scoring, Ziyech jogged slowly backward and encountered Tang Ye holding out a hand.

Ziyech thought Tang Ye was trying to mess with him and immediately cursed, "Fuck off..."

"Your shot was really accurate."

"Ah, oh, thanks, thanks."

Coming to his senses, Ziyech nodded repeatedly and took the initiative to pat Tang Ye on the arm.

Watching Ziyech run farther away, Tang Ye felt a little disappointed.

Why could other people shoot so accurately while he could only rely on luck?

The match continued into the 72nd minute of the second half!

The team currently attacking was...

Twente! "Damn, after that number 10's long-range goal, the away side's momentum has completely surged. Brothers, let me check the odds first."

"Hiss—Utrecht's line doesn't look very safe right now."

The broadcast camera cut to Tang Ye, who was slowly drifting back toward his own half.

Since the start of the second half, Tang Ye had kept Erik ten Hag's instructions firmly in mind and frequently tracked back to defend.

Although he was poor at one-on-one defending, Tang Ye had tackles that made attacking players wary, so his defensive tracking had still had some effect.

But the cost was huge.

Tang Ye, who could originally run for a full match after drinking Vardy Red Bull, was now beginning to struggle to keep up with the tempo! Seeing this, Erik ten Hag could only have Ayoub on the bench begin warming up, hoping to find an appropriate chance to replace Tang Ye.

No matter what, with an assist to his name, there was nothing to fault in Tang Ye's performance today.

The very second Erik ten Hag told Ayoub to put on a yellow bib, Leeuwin stepped in and successfully disrupted Ziyech's possession.

The ball flew toward Kleiber.

The Twente players hurried toward Kleiber, preparing to press him.

Kleiber had no choice. In his panic, he headed the ball toward Tang Ye.

Holy shit!

Watching the ball fly toward him, Tang Ye's soul nearly left his body.

He was positioned right in the middle of his own half, with Twente players both in front of and behind him.

Kleiber had not given him a header pass. He had given him a fucking suicide ball!

With no other choice, Tang Ye looked back and memorized where his teammates had been.

He ran toward the incoming ball.

He raised his thigh.

And smashed the ball straight into the attacking half! "Tang Ye, that's a clearance!"

"A brilliant clearance! Tang Ye has resolved the inverted-triangle pass Kleiber gave him."

"Wait, that doesn't look like a clearance!"

"Haller is running forward! Holy shit!"

"First touch!"

"Shot!"