In the end, Inter Milan won the match 4–1 at home!
After Icardi came off, substitute Bonazzoli pounced on a rebound and scored~
It happened in the 88th minute. Guarin unleashed a powerful long-range shot from 30 meters, and the Chievo goalkeeper fumbled it.
Bonazzoli was in the right place and easily tapped in the rebound.
After scoring his first goal for Inter Milan's senior team, Bonazzoli celebrated by taking off his shirt, just like Guarin, and received a yellow card.
In the final few minutes, the Inter players' minds had already drifted to their Christmas break.
In their eyes, the Chievo players running around on the pitch might as well have been the wives, parents, children, or girlfriends waiting for them back home during the holidays.
With the entire team letting their guard down, Inter conceded a consolation goal to Chievo.
The post-match press conference.
As expected, Mancini headed to the press conference with Guarin.
At the door, Mancini smiled and gestured for Guarin to go in first.
As soon as Guarin entered, the room erupted in sustained applause!
Clap, clap, clap—
Clap, clap, clap—
All the reporters stood up and applauded Guarin!
Every camera was pointed at him.
Guarin's mind went blank. It had been a long time since he'd experienced anything like this.
The last time was when he won the UEFA Cup with Porto in 2012.
"Am I the first Inter player this season to score a hat trick?"
"It's a great honor. As a midfielder, I'm farther from the goal than the forwards, but I made the most of my long-range shooting. That's the result of hard work in training, and of course, I couldn't have done it without Mr. Mancini's guidance."
"Why weren't you included in the squad for the previous two matches?"
"The team doctor has explained it several times already. I don't want to repeat it here or address the rumors. I had a thigh injury, but I've recovered and am now at 100 percent. I'm grateful for the coach's trust."
"Why did you pat your chest and point at the ground during your celebration?"
"I want to tell all Inter fans that I'm proud to wear the Nerazzurri shirt. I'll fight for this club's honor until the very end, even if I have only one leg left!"
"What's your relationship with Icardi like?"
"That's a strange question. Why ask me that all of a sudden? We get along very well. I'm close with all my Inter teammates. We share a warrior's bond—a friendship that can't be broken."
"Can you qualify for next season's Champions League?"
"Serie A only has three Champions League spots now. That's the reality we had to face from the start of the season. We fell behind early on, but now we're catching up. We believe in ourselves, and under Mr. Mancini's leadership, the team is on the right track."
"What do you think of Tang, and what's your relationship with him like?"
"He's a very talented young player. As I said earlier, I get along well with all my teammates."
Guarin's answers were impeccable.
Mancini, seated beside him, smiled with satisfaction.
Mancini couldn't have been more pleased!
Not only had the team put together a fantastic three-game winning streak, breaking the dismal curse of never having won three consecutive league matches since Mazzarri's time as coach;
Inter had also climbed to seventh in the standings.
Just three rounds earlier, they had been ninth.
Now the Nerazzurri were only nine points behind third-place Lazio.
Nine points—the distance of three wins.
There were still 25 league matches left for Mancini.
A league specialist, he had every confidence in facing the challenge and catching up with the teams ahead.
The winter break was finally here, and the players could relax and enjoy their holidays.
But Mancini wasn't about to relax!
As he looked out at the packed room of reporters during the press conference, his thoughts had already turned to the transfer market.
"What can you even get for a measly ten million euros..."
"Bullshit!"
What a load of bullshit!
Just look at Guarin putting on that fake, humble act at the press conference, saying he got along with everyone.
He was a shameless hypocrite!
I really couldn't understand what Mr. Mancini was thinking. This guy had clearly been frozen out, so why had he suddenly brought him back into the squad?
Did Mancini not care about his authority anymore? How could he establish his authority by doing this? I refuse to accept it!
During the winter break, Icardi and Ranocchia were having a drink at a bar in Milan.
Icardi kept venting to Inter's captain about how much he disliked Guarin.
Icardi had been born in Rosario, in Argentina's Santa Fe Province, and held dual Argentine and Italian citizenship.
Ranocchia had been born in the town of Assisi, in Italy's Perugia Province.
As it happened, Icardi's ancestors were Italian immigrants who had moved from Assisi to Argentina in search of gold after World War I.
Tracing their roots back, the two were practically half-countrymen.
Even Icardi's Italian had a slight Perugia accent.
"Mauro, you don't need to get so worked up. Guarin just didn't pass you the ball a few times, right?
"You've scored 11 goals in 13 Serie A matches. You'll win the Serie A Golden Boot sooner or later. Why get worked up over that reckless Colombian?"
Icardi looked extremely anxious.
"Captain, Cristiano Ronaldo has already scored 20 goals in La Liga, twice as many as me. How am I supposed to catch up if I don't score more? And Lionel Messi has scored 17!"
Ranocchia paused with his glass in hand, swirled his drink, and looked at his young Argentine friend with interest.
"You want to win the European Golden Shoe?"
"Of course I do! Tang told me I could win it!"
"Hahahaha, Tang's so young. You actually believe him? He's just messing with you."
"...So you don't believe in me, then?"
"Mauro, of course I believe in you, but don't get ahead of yourself. First, hold on to your place at the top of the Serie A scoring charts. Luca Toni, the veteran at Verona, has already scored eight goals. So win the Serie A Golden Boot first, then we'll talk!"
"That's why I need to score more! You saw it in the last game. I was in a better position, so why didn't Guarin pass to me? He went for goal himself. He's so selfish—I can't stand him!"
Ranocchia set down his glass. His blue eyes glinted with the depth unique to Italian men.
"Mauro, we're friends, but as captain, I have to remind you of something.
"Guarin scored three goals last match and helped us win three in a row. In the year and a half I played under Mazzarri, we never achieved that. From that perspective, Guarin really did help the team."
Icardi was still furious. "But my goals help the team too! Besides, Mancini had already frozen Guarin out, then suddenly brought him back. Isn't he just contradicting himself?"
Ranocchia smiled as if he didn't think it mattered.
"As long as the team wins, who cares if Mancini contradicts himself? Mauro, if you look at it from Mancini's point of view, he did nothing wrong. He won, and when you win, you're right."
Icardi's expression suddenly darkened.
"Then he's made a fool of me! Captain, why are you defending the South American Faction? Didn't you hate them? The sun must have risen in the west!"
"I don't like them, but I'm the captain. I'm responsible for the whole team. You have to understand me, Mauro. Inter's captain has the hardest job of any club captain in Italy. Maybe you'll understand if you become captain someday."
Ranocchia was starting to get annoyed.
Icardi paused, then downed a large glass of dark beer.
Bang!
He slammed the glass onto the table, making the bartender walking past turn around in alarm.
"Then who understands me? I'm a striker. I was born to score goals! Tang Long understands me! I'm going to talk to Mancini. He has to put Tang Long on the pitch—he's the one who likes passing to me most!"
Ranocchia scratched his head. Looking at the 21-year-old Icardi's fearless, wide-eyed innocence, he swallowed the scolding he'd been about to give him.
"Ah, you little fool. If you go to Mancini, you'll end up dropped from the squad.
"Since you're my brother, I'll point you in the right direction. Don't go to Mancini—go talk to Mr. Zanetti instead!"
Before you continue