[We can't beat them, brothers. The gap is still huge.]
[Fun fact: the Netherlands are half a title favorite. Playing this well is already pretty good. Aren't you satisfied with only being 0-1 down against the Netherlands?]
[The problem is that the first half isn't even over yet...]
[Xizhe, calm down. Don't get de Jong injured—Manchester United still have to fight for the Champions League this season.]
[Honestly, Tang Ye could be a little more selfish. Saint Es, be bolder, or there won't be any chances!]
The fans' cries were loud, but unfortunately, Escribá could not hear them.
As the head coach, Escribá naturally looked at things more comprehensively than the fans did, which also meant he had more concerns than they did.
Some things were far less simple than they seemed!
In the 30th minute, the two sides took a water break. Escribá found Wu Lei and Wei Shihao. "Your positioning is too high. Drop back! TY can't push too far forward. If you stay that high, there'll be a gap in the middle!"
"You have to keep the link-up tight!"
The veins on Escribá's arms bulged.
Oh, Alexander!
Gulp!
Pfft!
Taking a sip and spitting it right out, Tang Ye handed the bottle to Wang Shenchao, his eyes fixed on the positions of the Dutch players in the distance.
As a European powerhouse, the Netherlands really were playing very well...
This was tough!
"If we can beat the Netherlands, we should have a chance against Argentina and Germany too."
Tang Ye spoke thoughtfully. Mati beside him was somewhat speechless. "...Can you say something useful?"
"Hey, isn't that useful? We just have to keep fighting. We all have a chance."
Mati waved his hand and said nothing more.
The match resumed!
China were one goal down, but they had