Chapter 60: Mainly Because You Didn't Ask

Tang Ye rolled on the ground clutching his leg, and the referee showed a yellow card to Brinburg.

This was a set piece for Utrecht.

Hand it to Ramelaar!

Ramelaar excelled at long-range shots; crossing was not his strong suit.

But Utrecht had to let Ramelaar take this indirect free kick because they needed someone to contest for a header in the penalty area, and among the midfielders and defenders, only Ramelaar and Tang Ye were poor at heading.

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

The distance from the goal was very, very far, meaning Ramelaar would have to deliver the ball precisely above the heads of his attacking teammates.

Delivering to an accurate position wasn't difficult for professional players; the hard part was controlling the ball speed.

The ball couldn't be touched by opponents, yet it had to arrive comfortably for their own attackers to head it.

This was a science!

The camera focused on Ramelaar as Tang Ye limped over.

"Hiss, it hurts, it hurts so much."

"How about letting me take this kick?"

Tang Ye reached out his hand to Ramelaar, who was completely dumbfounded.

It wasn't just Ramelaar; Ten Hag and Fan Fan Dejiahe on the substitutes' bench were also stunned—Tang Ye's gesture asking for the ball had startled Fan Fan Dejiahe so much that he jumped up from his chair.

Was number 99 about to pull another stunt?

"You're taking it?"

Ramelaar hesitated slightly: "Are you sure?"

Tang Ye nodded; Ramelaar pulled him closer, shielding his mouth with his hand: "Are you planning to cross into the penalty area?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you can deliver it there?"

"Probably... I can?"

Ten Hag hadn't arranged any set-piece training for Tang Ye, having him practice only corner kicks.

After purchasing the Ward-Prowse Free Kick Template, Tang Ye's corner-kick ability had improved somewhat, but he had never yet used this template's capabilities to take a real indirect free kick.

So it was hard to say!

"Pro, probably?"

Ramelaar looked Tang Ye up and down: "Uh, if you're sure you want it, I'll give it to you."

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

Although he had handed over the ball, Ramelaar didn't rush forward to contest for a header; instead, he stood in front of Tang Ye.

The referee blew the whistle, Ramelaar raised his right hand to signal, then began his run-up, feinting a kick at the last moment to let the ball roll past.

Ramelaar's fake shot unsettled the Nijmegen defenders in the penalty area, causing them to briefly lose track of the attackers they were marking.

Then Tang Ye stepped up!

Smack!

The set piece was delivered!

A decent curve sent the leather ball soaring over the wall formed by players from both sides, flying forward.

Both Haller and Di Di Bala were locking onto the ball!

The positioning was excellent; after reaching its highest point, the ball began to descend slowly.

To make it easier for his teammate to head the ball, Tang Ye had struck it with topspin; a topspin ball descends more slowly than a backspin one.

Moreover, this kind of ball was perfectly suited for heading.

Because upon hitting the head, a topspin ball would naturally dip downward, making it less likely to fly over the crossbar!

"Haller!"

"Header!"

"Goal!"

"Haller'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 taped to his chest with a "swish."

He was seeking absolution from the Ball King, who had saved him with a free kick at the critical final moment of the match.

What did this mean?

The Ball King had forgiven him!

Haller ran across the field while the Utrecht players gathered around the corner flag to celebrate.

Suddenly, Haller froze, asking a strange question.

"Why does Tang know how to do this?"

With Haller's question, the players celebrating around the corner flag finally realized Tang Ye wasn't there.

Turning their heads, they saw Tang Ye slowly jogging over from the right-wing corner flag.

"Wait for me, wait for me!"

The camera cut to Ten Hag; the Dutch manager placed his right hand on his bald head, turned to look at Fan Fan Dejiahe, and asked: "Did you teach him this?"

Fan Fan Dejiahe hastily stepped back: "No, no, no, I didn't teach him."

Ten Hag nodded.

"Then I must have taught him."

"?"

……

The match concluded; Allé's header was the only goal of the game, and Utrecht defeated the home team by a one-goal margin, with Allé, the scorer of that sole goal, becoming the MVP of the day.

Bang!

Returning from the press conference, Allé, clutching the MVP trophy, kicked open the locker room door: "Haha, TOM!"

Hm?

Not spotting Tang Ye at first glance, Allé calmed down and observed more carefully, discovering the players huddled in a corner.

"What's going on?"

Holding the trophy, Allé walked over, leaning his upper body on the backs of Amrabat and Jansen: "Let me see!"

"Go, go!"

"Pass! Can't you just pass it!"

"Can't pass, not now!"

"Shoot, shoot!"

"Beautiful!"

"Hahaha!"

Tang Ye's phone screen displayed a "win."

Having just beaten Nijmegen, he'd immediately won another round of the mobile game FIFA afterward.

This counted as a double victory!

"Damn, Tang, you're pretty good at games!"

Ramselaar took Tang Ye's phone, swiping his thumb as he looked at Tang Ye's squad: "Did you learn your overall awareness from this game? Hey, hahaha, Tang, you even put me and Nacer (Di Di Bala) in the lineup!"

Ramselaar suddenly burst out laughing because he saw himself in the starting lineup Tang Ye had set up!

Bart Ramselaar!

And Nacer Barazite!

"What?"

Allé leaned in, scanned the starting lineup, and then began questioning Tang Ye: "What about me? Why isn't I in there!"

Tang Ye was truly wicked.

He had placed Ramselaar and Di Di Bala in the starting eleven, but hadn't included Allé!

He was clearly Utrecht's top scorer!

"I couldn't help it; I couldn't pull your card."

Tang Ye spread his hands helplessly, prompting Ramselaar to exclaim again: "Wow, you even have your own player card! Why didn't you put yourself in? Who's your midfielder, De Bruyne, Modrić? Hmm, aren't you going to put yourself in?"

Tang Ye pursed his lips and helplessly tapped on his own player card.

"My stats are only in the 50s; if I put myself in, I'd definitely lose."

"Hahahaha!"

"Hahaha!"

Every player in the entire locker room was laughing: "Haha, Tang, you bastard, you're going to make me die laughing, haha!"

"Damn it."

Tang Ye took his phone back: "Isn't it normal that I don't use myself? Give me a break; once next season's update drops, I'll directly replace Bart (Ramselaar) with myself!"

"Yeah, right."

Ramselaar waved his hand dismissively, pointing at Tang Ye's phone: "My stats are 76. Can you reach 76 next season? I don't think so, right?"

"……"

While the players were still horsing around, Ten Hag, having finished his interviews, walked in from outside.

"Tang, come out for a moment."

Tang Ye spread his hands, preparing to return his phone to his backpack, but Ramselaar snatched it from him.

"Let me play a round."

"Be careful; don't mess with my lineup!"

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

"Not a bad performance."

Ten Hag clapped his hands: "Although the first half wasn't great, your second-half display saved your day."

"Yeah, I can feel my improvement!"

Tang Ye said excitedly.

"Alright, I have a question now. That set piece you used to assist Allé was excellent. Why didn't you tell me you could take set pieces?"

Ten Hag was somewhat angry, feeling that Tang Ye had concealed 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 were now.

Tang Ye's concealment was disadvantageous for the team.

"This…"

Tang Ye awkwardly scratched his head: "Mainly… mainly…"

"Mainly what?"

"Mainly, you never asked…"

"……"

……

(End of this chapter)