"Oh my God, this—haha!"
"Tang Ye!"
"What a world-class strike!"
The moment the long-range shot went in, the stadium fell silent for a moment before erupting with an explosive roar.
"Wow!!!"
"Haha!"
Tang Ye spread his arms and charged forward.
Perhaps he was too excited—he had even forgotten that he was supposed to do a knee slide.
He ran straight ahead.
He rolled up his shirt with one hand and violently flung it behind him!
"Roar—!!!!"
As he roared, the muscles in Tang Ye's upper body bulged on camera, the veins in his arms clearly visible.
Escribá clutched his head with both hands and dropped onto the grass.
[What the hell was that?]
[Is Mendy really that bad... Holy shit!]
[6666666 King Tang really is the best. He never goes soft in big games!]
[Tuchel must be dumbfounded, haha. This goal reminds me of an old friend. He was also at Manchester United, but I won't say who, because you all know]
[Brothers! King Tang's second Champions League title—can the referee just end the match already? Chelsea has no chance, okay?]
"Tang Ye!"
"Tang Ye!"
"Wow!!!!!"
That goal was honestly so outrageous that the fans in the stands, and even some of the players on the pitch, seemed to lose their minds.
Erling Haaland came charging over with a running start.
He jumped!
No one knew what Borussia Dortmund's striker was thinking as the nearly 100-kilogram giant landed on top of Tang Ye.
"Oh, fuck!"
Tang Ye shouted, then immediately dropped to his knees.
Fortunately, Haaland reacted quickly and got off him.
He had almost injured the master!
That was close!
"Tom!!!"
Marco Reus grabbed Tang Ye's head and howled wildly.
"Haha!"
"His shirt! His shirt!"
Paul Pogba handed Tang Ye his shirt, but Tang Ye seemed to have no