It was 4:50 a.m. China time in the LeSports studio.
Commentator Liu Teng yawned and rubbed his eyes.
He was an Inter Milan fan himself, and commentating on the first half had taken a heavy toll on him. The dark circles under his eyes had grown even worse.
If he'd been watching the game alone at home, Liu Teng would have switched off the TV in disgust long ago!
What the hell was that supposed to be?!
But he had to earn a living, so he forced down his revulsion and sat back down at the commentary desk.
"I'm sure the viewers watching at home feel the same way I do. We've just sat through a dreadful first half.
"It's hard to believe this is the Inter Milan we know!
"But the game is still going, and I reviewed things during the break. If they want to turn this around, Guarin has to come off!"
Most people in the livestream chat agreed with Liu Teng's suggestion.
-[Well said! How many shots has Guarin blasted over the bar in the first half?!]
-[Guarin's getting too big for his boots. The moment he gets within 35 meters of goal, he shoots!]
-[Good grief, he'll even shoot from 40 meters out. What is he thinking?!]
-[Look at Palacio getting so frustrated he's practically stomping his feet! The midfield only knows how to shoot from distance. No one's playing him through!]
-[A through ball? Who's going to play one? Sneijder could, but he's gone!]
The broadcast cut back to the pitch.
Guarin was the strongest player on Inter's side, with a broad, muscular build. So the moment he was off the pitch, Liu Teng immediately noticed!
"Viewers, haha, I called it, didn't I? Mancini made a change during halftime. Guarin's off for a drink!
"Let's see who's coming on. Inter still have plenty of technically gifted players on the bench who can split defenses with through balls. Alvarez, for example."
But when Liu Teng saw a young player with black hair and yellowish skin standing in Guarin's position,
he froze.
"Who's this kid wearing number 99? I don't recognize him."
"Wait." Liu Teng paused, and a flash of delight suddenly crossed his eyes. His whole body jolted.
"I think I know this guy. Isn't he that—ah—"
Ju!
The second half began!
Amid the chants and cheers at Stadio Giuseppe Meazza, Inter immediately launched an attack!
Italian center-back Ranocchia made excellent use of his ability to play the ball out from the back.
He'd started out as a striker in the youth team, so he had a strong instinct for carrying the ball forward!
"Here!"
Ranocchia spotted a gap between the opposing defensive midfielder and forward. After a couple of quick touches, he carried the ball up near the center circle. Just before the opposition could surround and close in on him, he gently nudged it with his toe and passed it to Kovacic.
The Croatian midfielder was only 20. He'd just finished playing every match as a starter at the 2014 World Cup, and his whole presence had been transformed!
Confidence and elegance shone through in the dance of his dribbling.
After a brief look around, he used a feint to pass before cutting inside, leaving one of Genoa's midfielders in his dust!
At the same time, as the ball advanced, Inter's entire team pushed forward, surrounding Genoa's penalty area.
"Watch my run!"
Argentine forward Palacio darted forward, looking to get on the end of Kovacic's pass that would beat the offside trap.
But the Croatian midfielder thought a through ball would be too obvious just then. He chose to keep the ball moving and stretch the opposition's defense instead.
Tap!
The ball went to Tang Long, ten meters away on the right!
As he watched the ball roll toward him across the green pitch, Tang Long's nerves tightened.
This would be his first touch of the match!
In that split second, a familiar signal flashed through Tang Long's mind:
"Genoa's defensive shape has been pulled apart. Our right wing-back is overlapping! A dangerous opportunity is about to develop!"
On the heat map in Tang Long's mind, the little blue dot representing Inter's right wing-back, Nagatomo Yuto, was rapidly closing in, glowing brighter with every step.
Tap!
Tang Long didn't dare hesitate. He didn't stop the ball to think.
With his back to the play, he didn't even look. He simply flicked the ball forward with the outside of his foot, then immediately surged forward!
Too bad!
The pass didn't find Nagatomo Yuto. It rolled slowly over the touchline.
Tang Long ran a few steps, then stopped and looked back.
Nagatomo Yuto was panting, drenched in sweat.
He hadn't caught up.
It turned out Nagatomo Yuto had been a little slow off the mark. Combined with his lack of top-end speed, he hadn't managed to reach the ball.
But more importantly, the Japanese wing-back hadn't expected Tang Long to pass without controlling the ball at all!
He'd thought Tang Long hadn't seen him. After all, Tang Long had received the ball facing away from the direction of his run.
Nagatomo Yuto knew the ins and outs of playing on the wing, so he silently nodded twice at Tang Long to show that the mistake had been his.
But Palacio in the middle wasn't happy.
"What was that? You can't even control a simple ball like that?!"
Palacio held out both hands toward Tang Long, thinking the ball had gone out because Tang Long hadn't controlled it properly.
"You could've played it straight through. Why pass to some clueless kid from the youth team?"
That wasn't enough. Palacio also took a jab at Kovacic.
The spectators in the stands along the touchline near Tang Long gave him a chorus of boos, too!
"Who's this guy? Does he even know how to play?
"He can mess up a simple ball like that? What a joke!
"What a great chance, wasted! Young players just don't have enough experience!
"That number 99 is the one who replaced Guarin, and this is the level he's bringing to midfield? Is Inter really that short on players?"
"Boo! Boo!"
Tang Long had just made his first touch for Inter Milan.
He wasn't greeted with applause or cheers.
All he heard were boos!
But Tang Long wasn't discouraged. If anything, he felt more confident.
He knew his thinking had been right.
The problem was that his teammate Nagatomo Yuto hadn't committed firmly enough to the overlapping run and wasn't fast enough.
"Looks like the pace of Serie A isn't anything special. No matter how fast it gets, it can't beat the AI analysis in my head!"
With that thought, Tang Long felt more confident.
He kept looking for his next chance.
Maybe next time he could wait a little longer and give his teammate time to catch up to his way of thinking. That might work better.
Play continued.
Trailing 0–1, Inter kept up the high press, pinning Genoa back in their own half.
Thump, thump, thump—
Thump, thump, thump—
The sound of passes echoed around the stadium.
But perhaps because of the "mistake" on that earlier pass, his teammates rarely passed to Tang Long now.
Some even visibly avoided him when passing.
It was clear they didn't trust his ability.
In the blink of an eye, the game reached the 80th minute.
Inter were still behind!
They'd pinned Genoa back in their own half, but the final pass was always just a little off.
They couldn't get into the box or find their forwards!
Inter's midfielders were starting to resort to long-range shots, too.
Coach Mancini and the Inter fans were getting anxious.
At this rate, they might lose in front of 60,000 home fans!
Suddenly, a familiar face appeared on the broadcast—
Dutch midfielder Sneijder!
He was dressed casually, sitting in a VIP box high up in the stands and discussing the game with a friend beside him.
Even through the wide floor-to-ceiling windows, it was easy to see Sneijder's furrowed brow. He, too, was worried about Inter's situation!
The fans in the stadium spotted Sneijder on the two enormous screens at either end of Meazza.
A wave of gasps went up!
Ah—
"Sneijder! It's Sneijder!
"Sneijder's back—he's back at Meazza!
"God, please bring Sneijder back! He's the passing master we'll always need!
"If he were still on the pitch, he'd have set up at least three goals by now!
"Sneijder, we want Sneijder!
"Sneijder, please come back soon!"
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