Chivu listened to the two men's conversation without letting on.
He found it amusing.
Herrera, oh, Herrera. You'd been Mancini's assistant for all these years, and you still couldn't handle this properly.
Either give Icardi what he wanted and send him on in a few minutes,
or stick firmly to Mancini's pre-match plan: give him just ten minutes to warm up and prepare for the weekend league match.
What was the point of bumping it from ten minutes to fifteen?
You'd managed to please neither side!
Did you think Icardi would be grateful for your generosity? Of course not. In the end, you'd just wind up looking like Zhu Bajie staring into a mirror—ugly on both sides.
Sure enough!
When Icardi heard he'd been given five extra minutes, he didn't thank Herrera. Instead, he kicked a water bottle on the ground hard, swore under his breath, and continued warming up.
Back to the match.
After the AI System's brainwave coverage had expanded, Tang Long was like a completely transformed player in the second half, pulling off one incredible feat after another.
Before, Tang Long's main strength had been providing the final pass, slicing through the opposition's defense with deadly through balls.
At other times, though, he tended to fade into the background.
Now, however, Tang Long was completely at ease in midfield. He was outstanding at finding space, dragging the opposition's defense out of shape, and controlling the tempo.
Chivu was practically glued to him from the sidelines!
His eyes never left Tang Long.
Tang Long kept moving at an exceptionally high level, appearing almost precisely where Chivu had predicted he would be based on the flow of the match.
"What on earth happened to this kid? I hardly recognize him anymore..." Chivu mused.
Once the match passed the 60-minute