Totti's Realization

Stunned.

The Roma players were all dumbfounded.

If they pushed forward and couldn't get back, losing the ball would be acceptable.

The key was that everyone was in the backfield, so how did they lose the ball?

It wasn't some lucky long shot either.

Someone casually side-footed a chip pass, directly breaking through seven players!

This was unplayable.

Many players looked to the sidelines, hoping Luigi Radice would give some instructions.

Luigi Radice was also a bit taken aback.

What was a coach for?

To point out problems on the field immediately and help players adjust quickly.

But how was he supposed to make adjustments now? Should he have everyone pile up in front of the goal to block the ball?

Radice had always believed that some talents surpassed the ordinary.

Like in the Champions League final he experienced back then, Eusébio, Altafini, Rivera... Milan had more geniuses, so they were the ones who smiled in the end.

But unfortunately, Roma didn't have such players at the moment. Even though they were decent, they were just the more outstanding ones among ordinary people.

There was a boundary between athletes and ordinary people, but the gap between talented athletes and ordinary athletes was even greater!

Some people could easily perform movements that you struggled with for years without even training; talent was such an unfair thing.

God always favored a select few.

The silent Rome Olympic Stadium erupted again.

To conquer this place, you'd have to be an Etruscan.

Every aspect of the Roman Empire was influenced by the Etruscans; even their triumphal ceremonies originated from them.

The high-pitched cheers, the passionate interaction between the north and south stands.

It was as if the conceded goal had never happened.

"Roma!"

"Roma!"

"Roma!"

This word not only represented the team but symbolized the vast empire that once existed here.

Just as they refused to acknowledge being conquered, they would not yield to any team.

Ruggiero Rizzitelli restarted play.

This striker, who came from Roma's youth academy, seemed to be tailor-made as a background character for the Prince. Loyal but lacking ability; even in an era where scoring 20 goals could win the top scorer award, 20 goals in six years was quite poor for a strong team's frontline.

His destiny was to wait for Totti to grow up and be replaced by him.

His teammates passed the ball to him again. As soon as the striker, playing as the lone forward, received the ball, he was met by Vialli's pressure.

The physical condition of the two was not on the same level. Vialli, without any fancy moves, went straight for a tackle with his right foot. Ruggiero Rizzitelli had no choice but to comply, even if unwilling.

Bang—

The ball flew high into the air, and Rizzitelli sat on the ground.

Vialli, standing still, headed the ball back to his own half.

Mancini, watching from the stands, pursed his lips. As a Number 9.5, he didn't like this kind of physical confrontation.

Totti keenly noticed his expression and taunted, "A forward who's afraid of a physical battle with a defender will never become a starter for Italy."

Mancini's forehead twitched.

He looked around for something handy. Even if he couldn't do anything now, he'd give this kid a good whack after the match.

Don't expose people's weaknesses, and definitely don't poke their scars.

The competition for the forward positions in Italy was too fierce. Let alone him, even Baggio, that scoundrel who was in the papers every day, probably wasn't confident.

Pari received the ball and, without even looking up, made a pass.

Snap—

It landed precisely in front of Dejan Lu.

"Beautiful!"

Boskov clapped his hands hard and said, "Uffasato is the best defensive midfielder right now. I think he's stronger than Matthäus and Rijkaard."

Pezzotti was completely confused.

So, passing the ball once in the backfield was the greatest contribution of a superstar?

Although Giuseppe Giannini was an attacking midfielder, the ball wasn't at Dejan Lu's feet. He had already anticipated the play and, seeing Dejan Lu coming, slid in with a tackle.

Damn!

Giannini felt it wasn't going well; Dejan Lu got to the ball before him.

Sure enough, the ball rolled under his feet, and although Dejan Lu stumbled, he quickly regained his balance.

"Boo!"

"Boo!"

"Boo!"

As soon as they crossed the halfway line, the Roma fans started their performance.

Dejan Lu's dribbling speed wasn't fast, but the pressure he exerted was immense!

Some Roma fans were also cheering their players on, and Stefano Desideri was chasing back frantically.

"Go, Hound!!!"

"Take a shot at him, let him know Roma isn't to be trifled with!"

"Go, hurry up!"

Fans in nearby stands were shouting wildly.

Stefano Desideri didn't hold back either. After catching up to within half a meter, he went down into a sliding tackle.

Bang, The touch felt wrong!

Damn it, that kid jumped away.

His tackle went behind the ball.

Desideri got up immediately and continued the chase, but Dejan Lu had already dribbled the ball towards the center.

Dossena was making a furious forward run, waving to Dejan Lu for the ball.

This was too dangerous. Giannini and Desideri were chasing back, and Dejan Lu still had three defenders in front of him.

He was already surrounded by five Roma players.

Radice, on the sidelines, also breathed a sigh of relief, then immediately reminded them, "Watch his passes, be careful of direct balls into the box."

Bang—

Dejan Lu actually went for it.

Just before the arc of the penalty area, he flicked it with the inside of his right foot.

Radice's heart sank. Was he going to lob into the box again?

The goalkeeper, Giovanni Cervone, thought the same thing, but he quickly realized that this ball had more power than a pass and its trajectory was also a bit off.

Shit, it's a shot at goal!!!

Cervone immediately wanted to run back.

But standing on the goal line, even though he was very close to the goal, that short distance now felt like an insurmountable chasm. Even with all his might, his legs couldn't match the speed of that light ball.

Clang—

The ball grazed the underside of the crossbar, tracing a beautiful parabola as it fell behind the goal line.

The entire Roma defense, including the goalkeeper, had once again become mere spectators.

"Goal!!!!!!!!!!"

"Goal!!!!!!!!!!"

"Goal!!!!!!!!!!"

Rossi shouted excitedly, "Defense? Effort? Those are just tricks to fool ordinary people. In the face of absolute talent, Roma's defense is as laughable as the French defense. Dejan has shown his way of breaking through defenses. On the field, many people want to use tackles to make him a one-man show. But when Dejan isn't in the penalty area but the ball is, they are the ones who get hurt."

"The Arch of Constantine welcomes its master once again; the city of Rome is destined to be conquered!"

"Perhaps the Romans can carve a statue of Dejan next to Emperor Constantine sooner, because they are destined to be disappointed like this twice every season. Perhaps Dejan will consider this and at least dribble into the box before scoring, making Roma's defense look less ridiculous! At least they tried!"

He spoke his mind.

Rossi's commentary resonated with many Italian fans.

The Roma players performed well today, but what was the point?

Whether passing to a teammate or shooting himself, Dejan Lu's actions with his feet told the Romans that they had to make a choice.

When you defend against Sampdoria's forward, I'll chip the goal myself; otherwise, I'll pass.

No matter what, your defense is useless.

In the stands, Totti stared intently at the field.

Dejan Lu was mobbed by his ecstatic teammates.

Everyone was as excited as if they had scored the goal themselves.

This is talent!

Francesco Totti suddenly understood something: the captain's armband was bullshit. On the field, it's still about strength.

If he were to wear the captain's armband one day, he would have to be the best player on the field, conquering everyone with his skill, just like Dejan Lu.