[Why? This referee is seriously from hell. Does he have Instagram? I'm going to flood his Instagram.]
[Saint Es has to take the blame for this one. Where are our substitutions?]
[Classic—blame the coach whenever we're behind. With Chi Zhongguo and Zhang Linpeng playing like this, what are we supposed to do? And Wu Xi only looks for Tang Ye whenever he gets the ball. My head is about to explode.]
The comments section had already exploded.
At such a crucial moment, the China national football team was actually behind.
That was absolutely, absolutely unacceptable!
Bang!
Tang Ye shoved open the locker room door and kicked a water bottle across the floor.
"This referee, fuck him!"
"Hey, hey, calm down."
Mati guided Tang Ye all the way to his seat. Escribá was already working at the tactical board.
"Okay! More or less..."
"I know you're all anxious right now, but I need to say this—I'm anxious too. But being anxious right now is useless. Completely useless. It might even affect our performance on the pitch!"
Escribá said.
With time running short, the Spanish manager immediately banned all conversation between players in the locker room.
"Why are we behind? The referee is obviously one reason, but that's something we can't change. We're not talking about that, okay?"
"What we can change is our own performance. Haven't you noticed? We haven't played well enough. Or rather, we've played terribly!"
"..."
The China national football team players in the locker room all raised their heads.
Escribá rarely used words like "terrible" or "awful."
It was obvious that the China national football team manager was genuinely angry now.
Or, more accurately, nervous.
As a Champions League-winning manager, he kept getting targeted while leading a national team through World Cup qualification. Objectively, that was normal,