After lunch, Dejan Lu finally left.
The poster for Top Gun, released two years ago, still hung outside the street-side cinema.
Calabria was just such a contradictory city.
At the port, you could see the latest electronics and automobiles, chasing the footsteps of more developed countries, yet its entertainment remained stuck several years behind them.
Hollywood's cultural exports were incredibly aggressive in this era.
Only later had it gradually run itself into the ground, to the point that even Americans themselves no longer cared for it.
Let alone other countries.
When he got home, Dejan Lu found there was barely anything in the refrigerator. He made a simple egg fried rice and sat down in front of the television.
After the day's match roundup, Dejan Lu saw himself on TV.
The host spared no praise. "It's hard to believe this goal came in a Serie C match. A first-time shot without controlling the ball first—a magnificent strike. The goalkeeper had no chance at all. Some viewers may wonder whether it was luck, but this young man's subsequent performance showed us just how outstanding he was. Perhaps before long, we'll see him in Serie A..."
This was very good news.
If he kept it up, he would soon attract the attention of Serie A scouts.
Serie A teams still paid close attention to uncovering talent within Italy.
"Gigi, you invited me to watch a Serie C team, and not even Cagliari? It's not even being played in Milan?" Gianni Rivera sat in the stands and complained furiously.
"Relax, mate. I know you're upset about leaving AC Milan. Don't take your negative emotions out on me," Luigi Riva said.
Two and a half years earlier, Berlusconi had bought AC Milan, and Rivera had left his post as Milan's vice chairman.
"I never thought a guy like you would crack jokes."
Rivera said that because, in his memory, Riva had always been rather serious.
"I'm not a robot."
Riva rolled his eyes.
The two had gotten along fairly well in the national team.
There had always been a tradition of internal strife before. It was mainly because Fabbri, the 1966 World Cup manager, disliked the defensive counterattacking style of Milan's two giants. Since he had already decided to coach Bologna the following season, he called up a large number of Bologna players, which had affected Italy.
"Tell me, then. What great player have you found this time? If he doesn't satisfy me, you'll have to reimburse me for the petrol I used driving over three hundred kilometres."
Rivera said.
Milan was just over three hundred kilometres from Livorno.
"I'm doing this for your own good. Brooding at home will get you into trouble sooner or later." Riva pointed to the pitch. "See that tall, skinny kid? I think he plays like you."
"A Roman?"
Rivera asked instinctively.
"Chinese!"
Riva said.
Now Rivera was genuinely interested.
Not just him—even all of Europe knew very little about China. They could only occasionally learn about it through brief introductions in television programs or films.
Within just a few seconds, he had read quite a lot from Dejan Lu's movement off the ball.
Agile!
Italian players began taking tactical lessons at a very young age.
Everyone possessed excellent tactical awareness, so when players retired and became coaches, regardless of their results, they were always tactically well organized.
But Dejan Lu's movement was clearly not in the style of an Italian coach.
He could even guarantee that while Dejan Lu appeared to be making forward runs, that might not actually be his intention. The young man looked very clever.
A few minutes later, Rivera said, "When his through ball couldn't reach his teammate, he immediately changed his passing approach. His ability and understanding are above Serie C level. No wonder you wanted me to come."
"The key is that this young man is genuinely interesting."
Riva said.
After the match, he had seen how Dejan Lu interacted with his teammates. He seemed to have a good relationship with everyone on the team.
A player better than everyone else who was also so good at handling relationships made Riva think even more highly of Dejan Lu's future.
"Well? He's pretty good, isn't he?"
Riva asked.
"He's nothing special."
Rivera said with a curl of his lip.
He could see Dejan Lu's talent, but he was still very raw.
He was somewhat thin, yet unafraid of physical challenges.
He used his brain when he played.
Overall, he had more strengths than weaknesses, and his future was promising.
He simply did not want to see Riva looking too pleased with himself. At worst, he could secretly recommend the boy to Sacchi. He was no longer AC Milan's vice chairman anyway, so even if AC Milan "happened" to sign this young man, it would have nothing to do with him.
Riva took a newspaper from beside him and handed it over.
"La Repubblica?"
Rivera asked doubtfully.
The paper had a huge circulation, but its style was too lively and entertainment-oriented.
It had only been founded toward the end of their careers, so it was never part of Rivera's usual reading.
Riva turned to page two and pointed. "Read the article. Don't worry about the paper."
Rivera lowered his head and began reading.
"In 1971, a Chinese boy was born. Just three years later, his parents died in an accident, and Reggio Calabria gained a young immigrant.
Adopted by his uncle, Dejan had loved football since childhood. His talent had not been obvious, but the persistence in his bones was the foundation of his success.
Dejan, who led his team's comeback against Cagliari in the previous match, had not suddenly exploded into form. This was the accumulation of relentless effort. Staying until the end of every training session, putting in extra work day after day, was what led to his performance of contributing to three goals in a single match.
Because the team owner, Calabria businessman Bianchi De Rosso, was his uncle's friend, negative rumors about him had always circulated around Reggina. Yet not a single Reggina player had ever spoken ill of him.
Even his classmates and neighbors were full of praise for his character.
Only after investigating did we learn that this young man was earning the lowest salary on the team.
In his own words, he played football for every person in Calabria, not for money. This was a young man's love for this city, his loyalty to football!
Perhaps it was precisely his pure soul that moved God, and God therefore allowed his footballing talent to awaken. He is Calabria's most eagerly anticipated young man—their good classmate, good friend, good neighbor—Dejan Lu!"
Rivera was stunned for several seconds.
Riva handed him a magazine as well.
Dejan Lu was on the cover, in a photograph of him riding a motorcycle.
The bold headline beneath it read—The fashion attitude most admired by Fendi director Karl Lagerfeld.
That German was very famous. Even though Rivera did not follow the fashion world, he had heard his story: together with the five Fendi sisters, he had turned the brand into an international label, earning them the nickname the Fendi Six Sisters.
After flipping through a few pages, he found quite a few true and false stories about Dejan Lu, until he saw one that made him completely lose his composure—renowned director Tinto Brass greatly admired Dejan Lu and hoped he could star as the male lead in his next film.
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