Chapter 622: Reus's Champions League Dream, The Cancelled Year 2020

"Reus scores!"

"The score is now 2:0!"

Dortmund scored again; Escrivá raised his right hand and punched the air fiercely.

"Haha!"

Boom!

Tang Ye collided with Haaland, then embraced Reus, who was standing below the stands.

"Borussia!"

The fan club's lead chanter shouted; after a one-second pause, the Dortmund supporters in the stands roared in unison: "Dortmund!"

Boom! Boom!

Reus hammered his chest heavily with his fist, his expression arrogant.

Riding the momentum generated by this goal, Dortmund pressed their advantage.

Hoffenheim was already in poor form; subjected to frantic pressing by Dortmund's forwards, they were bound to suffer.

Tang Ye held the ball steadily in the center; finding no good opportunity, he dribbled back and forth without passing.

Seeing Bellingham make a forward run, Tang Ye seized the chance and forcefully poked the ball ahead with his toe.

Bellingham was about to reach the ball, but before he could extend his foot, a defender pulled him from behind.

"Fuck!"

Bellingham was very young and naturally had a bad temper; after the referee blew the whistle, he turned around and immediately started trading insults with the fouling player: "You damn bastard!"

"... Hey, forget it, forget it!"

Solgan and Haaland together held Bellingham back, while Tang Ye stood at the spot of the foul, hands on his hips, waiting quietly.

Actually, he quite wanted to go over and help, but this confrontation was minor, plus Reus had already rushed over (this being the main reason), so Tang Ye kept his focus on the set piece they had earned.

It was a direct free kick, but whether to shoot directly was a question worth considerable thought.

Yellow card: Bellingham.

"To be honest, this yellow card for Bellingham was somewhat unnecessary, but it shouldn't have much impact on the match since the home team's offense isn't very strong."

"Dortmund was awarded a free kick, and they were very decisive about it; they left only Tang Ye, clearly telling their opponents that this ball was meant for Tang Ye."

The camera focused on Tang Ye; one could clearly see a white object in the Dortmund midfielder's mouth—it was his chewing gum.

The familiar mint-flavored gum, the familiar mouth movements, but Tang Ye's black jersey made some fans feel slightly uneasy.

Exchanging glances with his teammates inside the penalty area, Tang Ye made his preparations.

"Beep!!!"

Whoosh!

He started his run-up!

Crack!

A curved shot soared up from the ground, aiming straight for the dead corner at the top right of the goal.

"Far post!"

Goalkeeper Baumann shouted loudly, keeping close watch on the Dortmund players rushing toward the far post.

He noticed Pogba charging up, but by the time Baumann shouted to warn his teammates, it was too late.

Pogba clenched his teeth and leaped high into the air.

Boom!

A header smashed onto the ground; the ball rebounded and flew into the net.

Goal!

"Wow!"

In the distance, the camera showed Tang Ye with both hands raised high.

He seemed to have known the outcome of this play all along.

"..."

The score reached 3:0, and by this time it was already the 74th minute of the second half.

"Tang Ye!"

"Tang Ye!"

The away fans shouted the name of their new signing, while the home fans remained silent.

"Tang Ye!"

"Tang Ye!"

"..."

"Beep, beep-beep—!!!"

"Alright, the match is over; the final score for today's game is fixed at 1:3."

"Although this was only the first match and he hasn't had much time to integrate with the team, we can see that Tang Ye's addition has been very helpful in improving Dortmund's attacking capability."

"But Dortmund now also has an urgent problem to solve, and that is their defense."

"Yes, and also what kind of formation they should adopt."

"God has given Dortmund a chance to win the Fan Fan Dejia title; it remains to be seen whether Escrivá can find a suitable tactical system to seize this opportunity."

"Wahoo!"

Boom!

The Dortmund players roared as they returned to the locker room; Haaland turned and met Tang Ye, who was shirtless, and grabbed Tang Ye by the shoulders with both hands.

"Roar—!!!"

"..."

Tang Ye stood rooted to the spot, his brain seemingly having crashed.

"Wow, what's wrong, Tom?"

Haaland squeezed the muscles on Tang Ye's shoulder; the latter took the water bottle handed over by Bellingham, unscrewed the cap, and said, "You remind me of someone; he shouted just like that."

"Is it Zhang?"

"Do you like him that much? It's not Zhang, it's Ashley Young; you should know him."

"Oh, oh, of course I know him."

Haaland nodded slowly.

In the Champions League group stage last season, Dortmund were double-killed by Manchester United; although Haaland had not yet joined Dortmund at the time, Escrivá often showed the team recordings of that match, with the aim of addressing the problems exposed by the squad.

Of course, behind this lay an ultimate objective: Escrivá always regarded Ten Hag as an opponent who needed to be defeated, so he did not wish to lose to Ten Hag when they next met.

"By the way, Tom, how does it feel to win the Champions League title?"

Haaland followed Tang Ye, and the two sat on benches in the locker room.

Tang Ye was untying his bootlaces; hearing Haaland's words, his eyes suddenly lit up: "Haha, you want to know what it feels like? Let me recall it first."

"Hmm... it's basically just very happy, but not that exaggerated."

"Why?"

Tang Ye's words sparked Haaland's curiosity: "That's the Champions League title."

"Mainly because we played Bayern in the semi-finals and Barcelona in the final. Before playing Barcelona, we studied them; after watching their match recordings, we felt victory was already assured."

"Wow..."

Haaland and Reus exchanged glances, both immediately revealing looks of envy.

"Indeed, Manchester United last season was too exaggerated; no team could beat you guys. You had Dembélé, Rodri, De Jong, Rashford... hmm, and you."

"Haha!"

Tang Ye and Haaland fist-bumped.

Since Dortmund had failed to reach the Champions League knockout stage last season, Tang Ye had no intention of continuing this discussion; however, he did not expect Reus to be so interested in the topic of the Champions League.

"Our next match is a Champions League game, against Chelsea."

Reus said, "I feel Chelsea is quite strong; anyway, neither of the two teams in our group will be easy to play against."

Reus seemed to want Tang Ye to say something, but the latter stuck to Ji De Xiang Fa; he wanted to avoid the topic of the Champions League to prevent discussing Dortmund's miserable Champions League experience from last season.

Seeing that Tang Ye was still unwilling to speak, Reus hesitated for a moment before asking directly, "How do you think we compare to Chelsea and Juventus?"

Tang Ye looked into Reus's eyes.

He had originally thought Reus's question was a joke, but he detected seriousness in the Dortmund captain's gaze.

"Juventus should be no problem; I feel it should be very easy, unless Cristiano suddenly becomes five years younger. As for Chelsea..."

Tang Ye shook his head gently.

Chelsea was Dortmund's opponent in the next match.

To speak honestly, from Tang Ye's perspective, if Dortmund failed to find a suitable tactic, playing against Chelsea would still be a struggle.

"But that was Chelsea from last season; this season they might have become weaker. We'll only know after we go back and review the data."

Tang Ye shrugged his shoulders.