Beep!
A whistle blew. Serie D: Palermo vs. San Remo.
As was customary, the home team was listed first, so this was Palermo's home ground.
They had every advantage: the right time, the right place, and the support of the people.
So Palermo came out playing with the air of champions.
They launched a fierce attack.
San Remo, meanwhile, was forced onto the back foot.
The commentator said, "We just saw a very dangerous surge down Palermo's right flank. If San Remo's left defensive midfielder, Lu Yang, hadn't made an excellent interception, Palermo would already be celebrating a goal."
"We're thirty minutes into the match. There still hasn't been a goal, but we believe one will come soon, because the gap between the two sides on the field is simply too large."
"Palermo's possession is as high as sixty-five percent. San Remo, who once played a spell of attacking football, is getting absolutely battered today."
"Bear in mind, San Remo averaged around fifty-five percent possession over their last ten matches. They're never the weaker side, but today..."
"Moric doesn't dare launch an attack at all. Instead, he's focusing his efforts on defense, and that's left San Remo with almost no midfield. If they keep playing like this in the second half, Palermo's possession could climb even higher!"
"The first half is over, and the score is nil-nil. Palermo had sixty-nine percent possession in the first half and took more than ten shots, but even so, they still haven't managed to score."
"By comparison, San Remo showed none of the flair of a strong team. They managed just one shot in the first half."
The commentator sounded rather exasperated. He'd thought this would be a thrilling, all-out attack for the ages.
But he hadn't expected San Remo to show so little fighting spirit, seemingly intent on defending to the very end.
They hadn't even started their first-choice right winger today. Instead, they'd added another midfielder and lined up in a 4-4-2.
They were playing ridiculously cautiously!
It seemed Soto had been right. San Remo's top priority in the matches ahead was to earn points—even if they could only manage one.
They were focused on staying in the top five and had no unrealistic ambitions about breaking into the not-so-distant top three.
Should they call Soto a disappointment, or say he was simply cautious enough?
In the locker room.
"Good. You played very well in the first half. The rest of you should keep it up in the second half. If you keep them out, that's a win," Soto said, explaining his plan for the second half. "But Moric, you need to look for a chance to attack!"
"Lu Yang, in the final ten minutes, I'll let you decide how to play based on what's happening on the field. But you and Moric absolutely cannot both push forward at the same time!"
"Vedian, I'm giving you permission to skip your defensive duties in the second half. You'll have to prove with your performance that you deserve that privilege!"
"Rondo, you'll play the whole match. I hope you don't get injured, but I'd rather the team didn't concede even more!"
Everyone in the locker room was on high alert.
The second half began.
To the spectators, the match still looked dull.
But the expert commentator could already sense the game's momentum shifting.
The commentator said, "We can see that Vedian has made three runs in five minutes, and Moric has delivered quick long balls to him on two of those occasions."
"San Remo clearly isn't content with a draw. Their lack of ambition in the first half was just an act. They're looking for a chance to steal a goal!"
"Oh, in the sixty-ninth minute, Moric makes his move! He's stopped passing the ball around and instead uses his individual skill to dribble past the opposing midfielder, then carries the ball all the way forward!"
"Lu Yang quickly drops into the middle to cover the gap left by Moric's advance. That's Lu Yang for you—a player who knows what to do and when to do it. His positional sense is excellent."
"Normally, Lu Yang would push forward with Moric at a moment like this. But this time he stayed back, so it's easy to see that Soto gave them special instructions."
"Soto is an excellent head coach. He knows what matters most."
"He passes! A great chance! Vedian breaks into the box and gets the ball. He's almost one-on-one with the keeper. With his ability, he could give San Remo the lead..."
The commentator's voice abruptly cut off.
A whistle from the field took its place.
Palermo's number five, a center-back, fouled Vedian in the penalty area and brought him down.
He was shown a yellow card.
And San Remo was awarded a penalty!
"A penalty! It's a penalty! San Remo have their chance! They've defended all match like turtles, enduring humiliation the whole time. But now, at this very moment, it's all been worth it!"
"Vedian has shown just how dangerous he can be on the counterattack. Look at where he was when Moric passed the ball. He had at least three defenders in front of him, but in the blink of an eye, he'd overtaken them and reached the spot where the ball was going to land."
"Moric's pass was so cleverly placed. Who would have expected him to send it there? That's the instinct of a top-class midfielder. He gave up control of the midfield today. He's no longer the midfield general, but he's become a deadly assassin."
"A truly great midfielder can create a lethal opportunity even when he has little possession!"
"We can see Rondo heading toward the penalty spot. He's San Remo's first-choice penalty taker."
But when Rondo reached the middle of the field, he suddenly grabbed Lu Yang beside him.
"What's wrong?" Lu Yang looked at Rondo and saw that his expression was gloomy.
"My leg doesn't feel right," Rondo murmured.
Lu Yang's expression changed dramatically. If something happened to Rondo, what would become of the team's defense...?
"You can't keep playing!" Lu Yang shook his head.
"I know, but the team needs me in this match." Rondo was clearly hesitating.
"The team needs you, but not just for this match. It needs you for every match after this, too!" Lu Yang looked at Rondo.
Rondo nodded, then signaled to head coach Soto that he needed to be substituted.
The stadium erupted.
"Oh, we can see San Remo's penalty taker, Rondo, signaling to the coach for a substitution. Judging by the way he was walking just now, he may well be injured." The commentator quickly figured out what had happened. "It must have been that challenge just now. He and Palermo's..."
On the sidelines, Nagy quickly began warming up.
Meanwhile, Soto was already discussing the situation with his coaching staff.
Who should take the penalty?
Rondo handed the captain's armband to San Remo's center-forward, who was the vice-captain. But he wasn't the second-choice penalty taker.
The team's second-choice penalty taker was its right winger, but he wasn't playing today.
"Moric has the best technique," Tom said.
Moric frowned as he came over to the touchline. "I'm willing to take on any responsibility the team gives me, but I've spent too much of today defending. My foot's a little numb, and I've been misplacing some of my passes because of it."
Moric was a professional. He was telling them exactly how he felt.
If he'd been in better form when he made that last pass, Vedian could have taken the shot as soon as he received the ball. He wouldn't have needed to adjust, and there wouldn't have been a penalty.
His foot had been stepped on and kicked several times during the opposing team's challenges today. That could make a big difference at a crucial moment.
If players didn't mention these things, coaches might not know. People who didn't play football would have a hard time understanding them.
Even taking several penalties late in a match could affect a player's performance with each successive kick. Fatigue, a numb instep, psychological pressure—any of these things could play a part.
Soto fell silent in thought.
No one on the team was steadier than Moric.
Especially since... Moric was the one backing out of the penalty.
He'd said he wasn't suited to take it.
Even if Soto ordered him to, he'd still take the kick. But what would be the point?
Wouldn't that waste Moric's good intentions? He was only trying to put the team first.
But Moric hadn't considered one thing: if even the player with the best technique on the team refused to take the penalty to avoid a risk, how could anyone else dare to take it?
Could you guarantee you'd score?
No!
Were you better at penalties than Moric?
No!
If that was the case, why not let the person most likely to score take it?
Don't forget, Soto had said before that San Remo couldn't afford to lose a single match!
Now Rondo had been forced off, and this penalty could very well determine the outcome of the match.
And this match could very well determine how San Remo's entire season would go.
The more that was at stake, the greater the pressure.
And under pressure... most people performed worse than usual, unless they had nerves of steel or thrived on the moment.
Wait!
Soto's eyes lit up. Nerves of steel?
He looked at Lu Yang.
Just then, Lu Yang stepped forward as well. "Coach, let me take it. I'll score, I promise!"
Lu Yang looked utterly confident.
Soto nodded.
So the spectators watched as a group of San Remo players talked things over. Then their left defensive midfielder, Lu Yang, headed toward the penalty spot.
"Oh! What's going on? Lu Yang is taking the penalty for San Remo?"
"San Remo's first- and second-choice penalty takers aren't available, so it's not easy for them to find a suitable replacement, but..."
"Shouldn't Moric be taking it? He's scored from long range several times this season. He has the technique and ability for it."
"Moric seemed to say something earlier, then pointed at his foot. I suspect it's bothering him too. Palermo's relentless marking has given him a rough time today, and he may have picked up an injury during those challenges."
"San Remo's center-forward missed two penalties in a row when Rondo was unavailable. This match means too much. He may not be able to handle the pressure."
"But why Lu Yang? He's scored from long range several times, but his technique definitely isn't considered great."
"Maybe Soto is rewarding Lu Yang? Personally, I think this could turn into a punishment! If Lu Yang can't handle the pressure and sends the penalty wide, he'll become the team's scapegoat!"
Standing at the penalty spot, Lu Yang wore a solemn expression and fixed his gaze ahead with the same determined look as Cristiano Ronaldo.
Someone once said that if a player had Messi's rhythm, Ronaldinho's touch, Bale's speed, Robben's cut-ins, Ronaldo's shooting, Neymar's dribbling, Xavi's vision, Iniesta's through balls, Van Dijk's physique, and Cristiano Ronaldo's gaze, he'd become the greatest player in football.
That was obviously a joke about Cristiano Ronaldo.
But did his gaze really count for nothing?
The eyes were the windows to the soul.
People had said that James and Cristiano Ronaldo were alike, but really, that was only because they were both older players. Fans who knew them would understand that they weren't alike at all.
Their eyes were completely different!
But if you'd seen Cristiano Ronaldo's gaze and Kobe's, you'd realize how similar they were.
Their intense hunger for victory and their strict demands of themselves made them seem a little out of place on the field.
But that also showed just how determined they were.
Never underestimate the heart of a champion!
The look in Lu Yang's eyes told Palermo's goalkeeper how determined he was.
He was determined to win!
"That kid's definitely going to blast the ball with tremendous force. He might even smash it hard enough to kill someone!" the Palermo goalkeeper thought, certain of it. "And before his expression hardened, he looked to my left!"
He wouldn't even be surprised if Lu Yang put a hole in the net with that shot.
That long-range specialist was going to bet everything on a powerful shot and hope for the best!
Beep!
The referee blew his whistle.
Lu Yang began his run-up.
As he reached the ball, he raised his right foot high.
At that very instant, the Palermo goalkeeper pushed off hard with his right foot and launched himself early toward his left.
Thump!
Almost at the same moment,
the ball left the ground.
The Palermo goalkeeper was already airborne.
But there was no joy in his eyes.
Only terror!
And it wasn't just him. At that moment, everyone on the field wore a look of horror.
The people on Palermo's side were thinking, "How dare he?"
And the people on San Remo's side were thinking exactly the same thing: "How dare he?"
The ball hadn't rocketed toward the goal.
Instead, it traced a delicate arc through the air, like a spoon, and sailed into the net. It only began to drop long after the goalkeeper had landed.
"GOAL! It's in!"
"Unbelievable! How dare he take it like that?"
"A Panenka! Lu Yang has scored with a Panenka!"
"Does he even understand what this match means?"
"Nerves of steel! This is a player with nerves of steel!"
The Clutch King, Lu Yang, has arrived! His Panenka is sure to be the most dazzling goal of this round!
"You're crazy!" Moric rushed over to celebrate with Lu Yang. "You're absolutely insane! Tell me, did you see this match before? Tell me, we won this match, didn't we?"
Moric was so excited that tears streamed down his face.
The truth was, the moment he'd said he wasn't in good enough form, he'd already started to regret it.
Because he'd remembered that he was the best penalty taker on the team.
If even he wouldn't take the penalty, who else would dare?
He was one of the team's leaders. He always put the team first, hoping to make the best choice for everyone, but he'd overlooked how people felt.
This was only a Serie D match, not a Serie A match or a Champions League game.
It wasn't the kind of match where a player could become an overnight sensation. Not many people were fighting to take a penalty here, especially when a miss would inevitably turn the taker into the team's scapegoat.
But Lu Yang had saved him.
Lu Yang had stepped up.
He was always like that—always someone the team could trust, always their strongest support.
"Yeah, I've seen it! We're going to win!" Lu Yang wrapped his arms around Moric and roared with all his might!
Panenka penalties put enormous pressure on anyone, and he was no exception.
But as someone with "Totti's Panenka Chip," he felt steadier using a chip when taking a penalty than simply blasting it.
At least he wouldn't send it flying wide.
He was afraid that if he went for power, he'd blast the ball into the stands. He was under pressure too, after all.
And the facts proved that Totti could be trusted!
Watching Lu Yang celebrate wildly, Soto smiled. "We've got this match in the bag!"
Tom said, "But Rondo's already off the field. Our defense... might let in a goal."
Soto said, "I know, but... we've got this match in the bag!"
Tom fell silent. He looked at Lu Yang and Moric. Was it because of these two kids?
The penalty shootout had tempered them and brought them to a new level!