Chapter 6: He Put His Hands in His Pockets

Slap!

After high-fiving his teammates and running onto the pitch, Tang Ye rarely felt pressure.

However, Tang Ye's pressure did not stem from worrying about failing to deliver a good performance, but rather because he was being subbed on a bit too early.

Based on Tang Ye's experience during training, if one plays in the first half, the second half becomes extremely exhausting.

Exhaustion to the point of gasping for breath; for Tang Ye, this was a form of torture!

"Run! Don't walk!"

Just as Tang Ye ran toward his position as an attacking midfielder, Melent's voice came from behind.

"I know, I know!"

Having said that, Tang Ye, in order to prove himself, ran straight toward the opposing player holding the ball, making Melent look on with a face full of gratification.

Indeed, disobedient players like this just need to be scolded more often.

Actually, there were originally no players with extremely strong discipline in this world; it's just that when there are many coaches who scold players, there end up being many players with good discipline.

"Tang Ye is on the field; in the last warm-up match, he had a very stunning performance, but because his playing time was relatively short, many fans might only remember that outside-of-the-foot kick."

"Today Tang Ye is playing in the first half; with so much match time, we should be able to see more of his strengths."

Although what was said was correct, after Tang Ye entered the field, Wang Chao secretly switched to the backend and placed an additional bet on a draw.

This way, he could avoid losing too much money later!

In the first few minutes after coming on, Tang Ye's pressing was still very active; during one of his presses, he even nearly stole the ball from the opponent, but after five minutes, Tang Ye suddenly stopped running.

The camera focused on Tang Ye; this number 99 player from the second team put both hands on his buttocks and began strolling around the field.

"Lazy pig, run!"

Melent shouted, and just a moment before he called out, Tang Ye had dropped back to support Amrabat, received the ball, and then began driving forward.

Tang Ye wasn't running fast, which gave the Rotterdam Spartans' defenders an opportunity.

Of course, Utrecht wasn't foolish either; seeing a player charge toward Tang Ye, who was controlling the ball, Zaka immediately dropped back, signaling for Tang Ye to pass him the ball.

When someone wants to take this troublesome ball off his hands, Tang Ye never refuses.

Slap!

Passing the ball to Zaka, Tang Ye changed from running to walking, moving little by little toward the front field, observing as he walked.

Running is tiring, but observing with one's eyes is very easy; Tang Ye just loves this kind of easy work!

While strolling, Tang Ye spotted a gap ahead, so he dodged the opposing defenders and suddenly accelerated toward it.

!!!

"Quick, pass! Quick, pass!"

Melent urged; Zaka reacted quickly, striking the ball with the inside of his foot to send a through pass to Tang Ye.

In the camera shot, Tang Ye controlled the ball; at this moment, he was less than five meters from the edge of the penalty arc, but unfortunately, Utrecht did not have a striker tall enough to occupy a position inside the penalty area.

"To me!"

Kalon on the right wing reached out for the ball; Tang Ye glanced toward the right flank and, in an instant, completed his assessment of the situation there.

This was not a good moment to pass.

So he looked again toward the left flank and decisively flicked the ball with the outside of his foot!

"Tang Ye, an outside-of-the-foot pass to the wing, another outside-of-the-foot pass!"

Wang Chao had just shouted this, but immediately realized something was wrong; Tang Ye's pass was not directed to any of the players on the left flank, but instead curved in a 'C' shape toward the baseline on the left side.

"Damn it, fuck, it's going directly out of bounds!"

Wang Chao shouted in regret; it seemed his decision to place an additional bet on a draw after Tang Ye came on was not wrong at all.

However, just as the ball reached the left post and was infinitely close to going out of bounds, a player ran out from the left side.

This was Truppe, Utrecht's left-back!

With a "bang," Truppe scored with a header.

"Holy... holy shit?"

Buddy, are you serious with that pass?

The livestream only had the sounds from the venue; Wang Chao didn't say a single word—not because he froze, but because he truly had nothing to say.

The camera focused on Truppe, who had just scored; this defender from Curaçao immediately rushed toward Tang Ye.

"Holy shit, what kind of pass is that, what kind of pass is that!"

"Damn holy shit, 2:0, Utrecht 2:0 Rotterdam Spartans!"

Beep, beep-beep!

The referee blew the whistle ending the first half, and players from both sides began slowly walking toward the tunnel.

As the leading side, the Utrecht players on the field all wore smiles, except for Tang Ye.

Because he was already feeling somewhat strained.

"Tom!"

"Tom!"

"Tom!"

Over a thousand Utrecht fans at the venue shouted Tang Ye's name.

For this group of Dutch people, the character "Tang" was a bit difficult to shout, so they could find an English substitute.

"Hey, Tang, the fans are waving at you, why aren't you reacting!"

Zaka patted Tang Ye on the back, reminding his teammate.

"Then what should I do now?"

Tang Ye rubbed his head.

"Wave! Wave at them!"

"Oh, oh, okay, okay."

Fan Fan Zhiyi panted a few times, then raised his right hand.

"Wowww!"

"Tom!"

"Tom!"

"Bang bang bang bang!"

The Utrecht II warm-up match required no tickets; the spectators were nothing but die-hard fans from Utrecht itself or nearby cities.

They were all fans of the Utrecht first team, so naturally, they were delighted to see such talent emerge in the second team.

"I can guarantee it!"

A bearded uncle in the stands pounded his chest: "I guarantee this Asian kid will join the first team before he turns eighteen! This is the kind of midfielder Utrecht needs!"

The second half began; at halftime, Fan Fan Zhiyi had requested a substitution from Melent, and unsurprisingly, he earned a scolding from his good coach.

In the second half, Fan Fan Zhiyi resumed his stroll, but ever since that pass in the first half, the opposing team had tightened their marking on him by a full notch.

So even though Fan Fan Zhiyi seemed to be strolling on the pitch, Sparta Rotterdam still had to assign a player to mark him.

This was truly unbearable!

Time ticked past the seventieth minute; by now, Fan Fan Zhiyi was already gasping for air.

The exhaustion of the first half had been mental fatigue; the exhaustion of the second half was physical weariness—this was real tiredness!

Just as he was panting, Fan Fan Zhiyi's eyes suddenly lit up, for he had spotted another gap, a gap inside the penalty area.

Instinct told Fan Fan Zhiyi there was a scoring opportunity here, so he clapped his hands, shoved them into his pockets, and sauntered toward the opponent's penalty box.

"Fan Fan Zhiyi, what's happening? He's walking straight into the box!"

"Hmm, is that walking or running? Seems like walking, since Fan Fan Zhiyi's hands are in his pockets."

"Wow, Fan Fan Zhiyi doesn't seem to be wearing proper shorts; those have pockets!"

"Never mind that! Amrabat, play a through ball!"

"Fan Fan Zhiyi, facing the defender, adjust, pull the ball back to his feet—the defender's been fooled—Fan Fan Zhiyi, shoots!"

"Goal!"

"Holy crap, Fan Fan Zhiyi scores! 3–0! In the 79th minute, 3–0! 3–0!"

【Awesome!】

【Fan Fan Zhiyi, you damn well are my father; even more than my real father!】

【Tonight's foot bath is on Young Master Fan!】

【Melent, a famous coach!】

【Give me a point... holy crap, a direct goal, Fan Fan Zhiyi!】

"Chinese helping Chinese! A goal from Fan Fan Zhiyi! 3–0, cash out!"

……

(End of chapter)