Instead of letting Ronaldo receive a pass, they watched him drop back near midfield to collect the ball and break through.
Ronaldo at this point was truly fucking ridiculous.
Most number nines charged forward around the edge of the penalty area. He was fucking dribbling from midfield.
No wonder Sir Robson had exclaimed that he had seen The Alien.
His style was exactly the same as Dejan the Football King's—the standard style of a football king.
It was just that Ronaldo had suffered plenty of injuries, and his luck had not been all that good.
He had played for so many giants yet never won the Champions League.
Sometimes, it really fucking came down to fate.
Some players could win a Champions League title as soon as they were promoted to the first team.
Luck was important too. Ibrahimović's two former clubs winning titles in succession was quite interesting. If only the fax machine had been a little slower, that arrogant bastard could have lucked into a Champions League title.
No matter what, Ronaldo was a genuine bug right now.
Dejan Lu suspected that, in a one-on-one, perhaps only Lothar Matthäus, that freakishly strong guy, had a chance of completely shutting down peak Ronaldo. Everyone else could not even win a deliberate physical confrontation against him, and Ronaldo's balance was excellent too. Ordinary tugging could hardly bring him down.
A strong body, once fully developed, was truly terrifying.
Having both physique and talent was the configuration of a football king.
Judging from that Scorpion Kick just now, Ronaldo's flexibility was not bad either.
Dejan Lu stretched lazily and did two chest-opening stretches.
Now this match was getting interesting.
Ferguson kept pumping his clenched fists, his entire face flushed red with excitement.
Judging from today's performance, Ronaldo was not much worse