Chapter 102: The Celebration After Despair: Utrecht

“No no no, referee! Referee!”

Ramselaar sprinted toward the main referee Haye: “Didn’t touch the hand, believe me, the ball didn’t hit our player’s arm!”

Jahanbakhsh’s shot struck Amrabat’s hand, and Ramselaar saw it clearly.

But he couldn’t see it—he had to lie with his eyes wide open!

“Fuck…”

Amrabat hugged his head with both hands, his expression indescribable.

His hand had naturally opened while running, and he never expected it would just block Jahanbakhsh’s shot!

What luck!

The referee ignored Ramselaar’s protest and still awarded the penalty.

The team’s first penalty taker, Santos, stepped up to the twelve-yard mark.

A powerful shot!

The score was leveled again!

“Fuck!”

At the moment the ball hit the net, Ten Hag on the sideline dropped to his knees, covering his eyes with both hands.

He couldn’t watch another second!

It was already the 76th minute—Utrecht might lose their Eredivisie title because of this penalty mistake!

The scorer, Dos Santos, celebrated with his teammates.

The result of this match meant little to them, but stopping the underdog Utrecht would still be a significant honor!

Amrabat bit his lower lip, his pale face tinged with visible despair.

Tang Ye noticed Amrabat and ran over immediately: “It’s okay, Sofyan, it’s okay, listen to me, there’s still time.”

His expression didn’t change—Amrabat clearly hadn’t heard a word Tang Ye said.

“Even if you hadn’t raised your hand, the ball would’ve gone in! Listen to me, it was a blind spot—you couldn’t have stopped it either way!”

Tang Ye changed his tone of comfort, and this time Amrabat finally felt a little better.

Ramselaar hurried over and offered Amrabat more reassurance.

“There’s still time! There’s still time!”

He reached into his crotch to feel for gum, only to find it gone.

No choice—Tang Ye had to finish the match chewing the now flavorless gum in his mouth.

【Fuck, what’s wrong with Amrabat?】

【I’m done, I’m done—those who said Utrecht would win easily, step forward!】

【So you’re not giving my King Tang the Eredivisie title, huh?】

【Ten Sheng, think of something, Ten Sheng!】

【Forget Ten Sheng—can’t you see your Ten Sheng is quietly wiping tears?】

“wehebbengoedespelers”

“…”

The Utrecht team song echoed again across the Goffert Stadium.

After taking the lead, home fans’ eyes sparkled—but being equalized now was something they simply couldn’t accept.

Utrecht had never won the Eredivisie title, but when hope finally stood before them, couldn’t their fans truly want to touch the championship shield?

Under Ramselaar’s urging, the away fans quickly ended their celebration.

The camera cut to Ten Hag—the assistant coach of Utrecht wore a grim expression.

This season, Utrecht had beaten all three Eredivisie giants, yet they were now falling to Alkmaar at the last moment.

They’d already used their strongest tactics!

Wait—

Ten Hag suddenly remembered something, his eyes lighting up.

Thinking harder…

He hadn’t actually used his strongest tactic yet!

On the bench, Ten Hag turned to Van der Gaag: “How much time left?”

Van der Gaag glanced at the countdown on his laptop: “Fourteen minutes of regular time remain, maybe two to three minutes of stoppage time if no more fouls occur.”

“Good.”

Ten Hag stood up from his chair: “We’re going to win.”

Van der Gaag: “Huh?”

“Pass to Tom!”

Ten Hag sprinted back to the sideline, bellowing like a madman—despite being only an assistant coach, he was giving everything he had.

“Pass to Tom, Tom, pay attention!”

What?

Hearing Ten Hag shout his name, Tang Ye glanced toward the sideline.

It was definitely his name being called.

Fuck!

Tang Ye gasped for breath.

Was this… the trust of his master?

Damn, for some reason, Tang Ye suddenly stopped panting.

He was now exhilarated, even a little strangely confident.

What would it feel like to score now and give the team the lead?

He had to charge!

At the 80th minute, Utrecht, dissatisfied with the status quo, gradually intensified their attack despite their players’ exhausted stamina.

Ramselaar received the ball on the right flank!

“Give it to me! Give it to me!”

Ramselaar had barely stopped the ball when he heard Tang Ye calling for it.

Not you, bro?

He was stunned, but trusting Tang Ye, he still passed.

Tang Ye was also impatient—he turned and launched a long pass straight toward the right baseline.

Honestly, that pass was damn good!

“Balazs, control the ball!”

“Cut inside! Cut inside!”

“Shoot!”

“Fuck, so close!”

“I’m fucking pissed—Utrecht’s forwards, besides Aale, all look average; otherwise we’d probably be 5-3 by now.”

“Can’t you take your chances?!”

“…”

“Away team has the ball in their own half!”

“Fuck, Alkmaar knows they can’t score, so they’re just passing around in their own half—come on, can’t you play more boldly?”

As Wang Chao said, Alkmaar’s defenders hid behind, passing back and forth, giving Utrecht zero openings.

Utrecht wanted to win, but Alkmaar just wanted a draw!

“xuuuu——！！！”

The stands erupted with boos—the home fans were furious at the away team’s cowardly tactics. The Utrecht players felt the same—everyone was desperate.

How desperate? Tang Ye didn’t know why he’d run all the way to the center-forward position.

“Go back! Move back!”

Ten Hag’s heart nearly stopped.

I told you not to be lazy, but you don’t have to turn into a wild boar!

At that moment, disaster struck—Alkmaar’s two defenders, as if startled by a Montford wild boar, passed the ball to the wrong spot.

They meant to pass to Vlaar for Wutengsi, but the ball flew straight into Tang Ye’s face.

One-on-one!

All fans stood up—now, if Tang Ye just ran forward with the ball, it would be a clear breakaway.

But Tang Ye was too exhausted to run—he chose an unconventional way to handle the ball.

He shot directly!

“Fuck, from this angle, you’re trying to—”

!

“Goal!”

“gooooo——aaaaaa——lllllll！！！！”

The stadium announcer screamed into the microphone.

Tang Ye’s unexpected chip shot left the away goalkeeper no chance to even jump and save it!

“Roarrrr—!!!”

Dopamine and adrenaline devoured Tang Ye’s brain in half a second; having confirmed his goal, he sprinted toward Utrecht’s substitute bench.

Run-up!

Sliding tackle!

Swish-swish-swish!

His calves rubbed continuously against his knees; at this moment, he unveiled his months-practiced super celebration.

Both toes turned inward simultaneously.

This sliding style was slower than a regular slide.

But it had its own advantages.

Tang Ye and Ten Hag embraced.

The camera focused on the small patch of grass he had just slid across.

My god, four black stripes!

“Great goal, great goal!”

Ten Hag hugged Tang Ye tightly, then pushed him away and rubbed his hair.

Players from the pitch rushed over, and so did the substitutes from the bench!

Dongqiu Di live report: 87th minute, Tang Ye scores with a chip shot—Utrecht leads 4-3!

Dongqiu Team live report: Master, what’s your job? The camera focused on the grass where Tang Ye slid; four black stripes were clearly visible.

【Incredible… awesome】

【Damn, Tang Ye’s ability to seize chances isn’t weaker than Josten’s】

【That’s why Ten Saint is Ten Saint—no one else would’ve thought to put Tang Ye up as center forward】

【Exchanging gifts, huh? Haha, but Tang Ball King really nailed this opportunity】

【Tang Ye: I’m not running anymore—I’m chipping the goal!】

【Ten Saint above, bowing to you!】

“Tom!”

“Tom!!”

“Tommm!!!”

Boom boom boom boom boom!

A chip shot ignited the Groot Woudstadion; two minutes had passed since the goal, yet Utrecht’s players were still piled in a human pyramid.

Beside Aale and Van der Maarel’s feet, Tang Ye quietly crawled out from beneath.

Ten Hag blinked: “Wait, how are you out here?”

“I didn’t know.”

Tang Ye rubbed his head: “I saw an opening and slipped out—Mr. Eric, being crushed at the bottom hurts.”

“Alright…”

Ten Hag nodded.

It was just a small thing.

Today, whatever you say is right!

“Beep! Restart the match, restart the match!”

The referee ran over after Alkmaar’s complaint; Barazite received a yellow card for deliberately prolonging the celebration.

Match resumes!

“Utrecht!”

Boom boom!

“Utrecht!”

Boom boom!

Amid the roaring crowd, the fourth official raised the sign for stoppage time.

Three minutes of added time!

Tang Ye chewed a piece of gum with no flavor, smiling.

Ha, Alkmaar doesn’t have much time left!

“Hold on! Utrecht, hold on!”

“Can we swap a defender? Oh right, Utrecht has no substitutions left—but no problem, just put my Ball King Tang at the back to tackle!”

“Utrecht, hold on!”

“…”

“Beep! Beep-beep—!!!”

The main referee blew the final whistle; the giant screen above the stadium displayed the match result.

utrecht:az

4:3

“Utrecht!”

“Utrecht!”

Utrecht’s starters and substitutes sprinted across the pitch; so did Ten Hag.

Pfft!

The match was finally over; Tang Ye spat the chewed-up gum into its wrapper and shoved it back into his groin pocket.

He turned and walked slowly toward Amrabat: “Sofyan, I told you we’d win.”

“Damn!”

Amrabat cursed, then pulled Tang Ye into a powerful hug.

“You’re my god!”

…

(End of Chapter)