Chapter 60: You Didn

Tang Ye rolled on the ground clutching his leg as the referee showed a yellow card to Brinbao.

This is a free kick for Utrecht.

Give it to Ramselaar!

Ramselaar is good at long shots, but crossing is not his strength.

But Utrecht must have Ramselaar take this indirect free kick because they need someone to challenge in the box, and among the midfield and defense, only Ramselaar and Tang Ye cannot head the ball.

Ramselaar carried the ball to the back of the white arc.

This distance is far from the goal, extremely far—meaning Ramselaar must deliver the ball just in front of his attacking players’ heads.

Placing the ball accurately isn’t hard for professional players; the challenge is controlling the speed.

The ball must not be touched by the opponents, yet must land perfectly for his own attackers to head it comfortably.

This is an art!

The camera cut to Ramselaar as Tang Ye hobbled over.

“Ow, so painful, so painful.”

“Can I take this one?”

Tang Ye reached out to Ramselaar, who was completely stunned.

Not just Ramselaar—even Ten Hag and Fan Dejia on the bench were stunned; Tang Ye’s outstretched hand made Fan Dejia leap to his feet from his chair.

Is No. 99 about to pull another stunt?

“You take it?”

Ramselaar hesitated: “Are you sure?”

Tang Ye nodded. Ramselaar pulled him over and covered his mouth with his hand: “You’re going to pass it into the box?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure you can hit it?”

“Probably… maybe?”

Teng Hake had not trained Tang Ye on free kicks, only set pieces like corners.

After acquiring the Ward-Prowse free kick template, Tang Ye’s corner kick ability improved slightly, but he had never attempted a real indirect free kick with this template.

So it’s uncertain!

“P-probably?”

Ramselaar sized Tang Ye up: “Uh, if you’re sure, I’ll give it to you.”

Tang Ye took the ball and placed it on the ground.

Though he’d passed the ball, Ramselaar didn’t rush forward to challenge—he stood right in front of Tang Ye.

The referee blew the whistle. Ramselaar raised his right hand as a signal, then sprinted and let the ball roll past him.

Ramselaar’s dummy run confused the Nijmegen defenders in the box, causing them to briefly lose their marking assignments.

Then Tang Ye moved in!

Thwack!

The free kick is delivered!

A decent arc—the ball flew over the human wall and sailed forward.

Aale and Barazite were both tracking the ball!

Perfect position—the ball reached its peak and began a slow descent.

To help his teammates head it, Tang Ye struck an upward-spinning ball, which falls slower than a backspin ball.

And this type of ball is ideal for headers.

Because after hitting the head, an upward-spinning ball naturally dips downward, making it less likely to fly over the crossbar!

“Aale!”

“Head it!”

“Goal!”

“Aale’s header bounced once on the ground before flying into the net!”

“Beautiful!”

“1-0, Utrecht leads by one goal!”

Wang Chao’s face flushed red as he ripped off the white paper stuck to his chest.

He atoned to the Ball King, who saved him with a last-minute free kick.

What does this prove?

The Ball King has forgiven him!

Aale sprinted across the pitch as Utrecht players gathered at the corner flag to celebrate.

Aale suddenly froze and asked a strange question.

“Why does Tang know how to do that?”

Only then did the celebrating players realize Tang Ye wasn’t there.

They turned—and saw Tang Ye slowly trudging toward the right corner flag.

“Wait for me, wait for me!”

The camera cut to Teng Hake, the Dutch coach placing his hand on his bald head and turning to Fan Dejia: “Did you teach him that?”

Fan Dejia stepped back quickly: “No no no, I didn’t teach him anything.”

Teng Hake nodded.

“Then I taught him.”

“?”

……

Full-time. Aale’s header was the only goal of the match; Utrecht won 1-0 against the home team, and Aale, the sole goalscorer, was named MVP.

Boom!

Back from the press room holding the MVP trophy, Aale kicked open the locker room door: “Haha, TOM!”

Huh?

At first glance, Aale didn’t see Tang Ye. He calmed down, looked closer—and noticed the players clustered in the corner.

“What’s going on?”

Aale walked over, leaning his upper body on Amrabat and Jansen’s backs: “Let me see!”

“Come on, come on!”

“Pass it, can’t you just pass it?!”

“Don’t pass, not now!”

“Shoot, shoot!”

“Beautiful!”

“Hahaha!”

Tang Ye’s phone screen displayed a “win.”

He’d just beaten Nijmegen, then won another match in the FIFA mobile game.

Two wins in a row!

“Dude, Tang, you’re really good at gaming!”

Ramselaar snatched Tang Ye’s phone, swiped his thumb across the screen: “Did you learn your spatial awareness from the game? Hey, hahaha, Tang—you even put me and Nacer (Barazite) in your lineup!”

Ramselaar burst out laughing because he saw himself in Tang Ye’s starting XI.

BartRamselaar!

And NacerBarazite!

“What?”

Aale leaned over, scanned the starting lineup, then confronted Tang Ye: “Where’s me? Why aren’t I in it?!”

Tang Ye was cruel.

He put Ramselaar and Barazite in the starting XI—but left out Aale!

He was Utrecht’s top striker!

“I couldn’t draw you.”

Tang Ye shrugged helplessly. Ramselaar added: “Wow, you even have your own player card—why don’t you put yourself in? Who’s your midfielder, De Bruyne, Modric? Hey, you’re not putting yourself in?”

Tang Ye pouted and reluctantly opened his own player card.

“My stats are only fifty-something—I’d lose if I put myself in.”

“Hahahaha!”

“Hahahaha!”

All the players in the locker room laughed: “Haha, Tang, you bastard, you’re gonna kill me laughing!”

“Fuck you.”

Tang Ye took his phone back: “It’s normal I don’t use myself—I’m done. Next season, when the update drops, I’ll swap Bart (Ramselaar) out for me.”

“Yeah right.”

Ramselaar waved dismissively, pointing at the phone: “My stats are 76. Can you even hit 76 next season? You can’t, right?”

“…”

The players were still fooling around when Ten Hag walked in from outside, having finished his interview.

“Tang, come out for a moment.”

Tang Ye shrugged and prepared to put his phone back in his backpack, but Ramseyel took it from him.

“Let me play a match.”

“Be careful, don’t mess up my lineup!”

Tang Ye warned him, then followed Ten Hag out of the locker room.

“Good performance.”

Ten Hag clapped: “Though you played poorly in the first half, your second-half performance saved your day.”

“Yeah, I feel my improvement!”

Tang Ye said excitedly.

“Alright, I have a question: that free kick you assisted for Ale was excellent. Why didn’t you tell me you could take free kicks?”

Ten Hag was annoyed, because he felt Tang Ye had hidden something from him.

If Tang Ye had told him earlier that he could take free kicks, Utrecht’s set-piece tactics might not be what they are now.

Tang Ye’s concealment was detrimental to the team.

“This…”

Tang Ye sheepishly rubbed his head: “Mainly… mainly…”

“Mainly what?”

“Mainly you never asked…”

“…”

…

(End of Chapter)