Chapter 656: We All Lack a Little Talent in Love, The Year's Most

【"Fight! Fight!"】

【"Saint E, get him! Ten Hag must be beaten!"】

【"Does Saint E have tricks like this too?"】

【"Wait, I feel like Ten Hag used force first. Did Ten Hey pretend to be taken down by a handshake kill?"】

The match hadn't even started, yet the fans were already active in the comment section.

Although it looked like Ten Hag had been taken down by a handshake kill, fans generally remembered Escrivá as a rather low-key person.

This led some fans to begin doubting Ten Hag.

"Eric, your expression isn't faked, is it?"

"Boooo!!!"

Ten Hag was greeted with boos from the Dortmund fans in the stands: "Stop acting!"

"Fuck you!"

"You idiot, Eric!"

"Trash Manchester United!"

"..."

Just thinking that Tang Ye belonged to Manchester United made the Dortmund fans feel as miserable as if they'd been cheated on.

At Signal Iduna Park, Ten Hag and the Red Devils would always face the fiercest attacks!

"Oh, looks like Escrivá wants to give Ten Hag a warning shot!"

"Hiss... hmm, after all, it's their home ground; I think Dortmund should make good use of this match's opportunity!"

"Alright, the match has begun! Now let me introduce the starting lineups for both sides!"

"First, the home team, Borussia Dortmund!"

"..."

Manchester United (4-3-2-1)

Goalkeeper: De Gea

Defenders: Wan-Bissaka, De Ligt, Lisandro Martínez, Luke Shaw

Midfielders: Mata, B. Fernandes, Rodri

Forwards: Dembélé, Haller, Rashford

Head Coach: Ten Hag

Despite having injured players, Manchester United's starting lineup was still quite formidable.

"Hmm, the key is that De Jong isn't here; he's been replaced by Mata, who has weaker progressive abilities. If I were Escrivá, I'd definitely try to exploit that!"

"Ah, yes!"

Less than a minute after kickoff, the broadcaster immediately cut to the two head coaches.

Live feeds from two camera angles were spliced together, framing Escrivá on both left and right within the same shot.

Fans looked surprised, having noticed that the two managers from different teams were standing in exactly the same posture, both with hands in their pockets.

"Francisco! (Ferran)"

"Francisco!"

At Dortmund's home ground, Escrivá's support was naturally the fiercest!

"Actually, Commentator He and I mentioned in previous matches that there's quite a connection between coaches Ten Hag and Escrivá; it would be very interesting if they were drawn against each other in the Champions League knockout stage."

"Yes, never expected they'd actually be drawn together, haha!"

The fans had plenty to watch, but honestly, the pressure on both teams' players was immense.

"Pass to Mata!"

"Oh, here it comes, straight to Dembélé up front!"

Dembélé actively dropped back to receive, taking the ball from Mata's feet.

Tang Ye moved in to defend, but Dembélé immediately executed a turn and burst forward.

There was no other choice.

Tang Ye reached out with his left hand and smoothly pulled Dembélé down to the ground.

Thud!

"Oh!!!"

Beep!

The referee blew the whistle; Tang Ye waved his hands, helped Dembélé up from the ground, and said, "My fault, my fault."

"Hey! Alright."

Dembélé sighed; soon the referee ran over and showed a yellow card to Tang Ye for the foul.

Yellow Card: Tang Ye.

It was only the 4th minute of the first half, yet Tang Ye had already received a yellow card.

Honestly, that seemed a bit too fast!

"Come on, come on."

Tang Ye and Dembélé high-fived, then Tang Ye led his teammates backward.

"Actually, I think Manchester United needs to pay attention to Tang Ye's position, because he knows how Manchester United's several forwards play, so he knows when to defend."

"This yellow card for Tang Ye is actually good for Manchester United, because he won't be able to make big moves afterward."

While retreating, Tang Ye shouted a few times to Bellingham, signaling his teammates to focus.

He could use a yellow card to cover for Bellingham's defense once, but such yellow-card cover defense can only be played once; if Bellingham makes another mistake, Tang Ye won't be able to help him anymore.

"We need to watch the flanks too."

Tang Ye covered his mouth, emphasizing to Bellingham that they must cut off the connection between B. Fei and Dembélé as much as possible.

Thump-thump!

The stadium was noisy, yet Tang Ye could clearly hear the heartbeat pounding in his chest.

His forehead was already covered in sweat.

He knew how important this match was for Duo Te Cheng Gong!

"B. Fei!"

"Play an overhead ball!"

"Eh, that overhead ball from B. Fei wasn't even overhead!"

B. Fei made a mistake; Pogba headed the ball straight out.

It was played with great force; the ball bounced and landed right at Tang Ye's feet.

Perfect!

Without further ado, Tang Ye immediately dropped his shoulder and feinted, then accelerated again the moment Mata lost his balance.

"Wow!!!"

Duo Te Cheng Gong's attack was about to begin!

"Go, go, go!"

Tang Ye pushed his speed to the maximum.

He knew Manchester United all too well; he understood that to break open their goal, they had to counter-attack.

Glancing back to memorize the positions of the players on both sides behind him, Tang Ye began drifting wide to the right.

Anticipating Sancho's running habits, Tang Ye dribbled and accelerated a second time, then sent a blind pass to the left.

He passed into empty space; 1.5 seconds later, Sancho ran onto it and successfully controlled the ball.

"Eh, when did Tang Ye even look?"

Giving the commentators no time to react, Sancho and Tang Ye sprinted straight toward the byline.

"Get in, get in!"

Tang Ye pointed toward the byline.

The next second, Sancho started cutting inside.

"Eh!"

He wanted to correct Sancho's flawed attacking thought process, but it was already too late.

Sancho's rhythm was excellent as he dribbled toward the center!

Spotting Pogba, Sancho gently pushed the ball out, setting up a cannon for Reus!

Bang!

A long-range shot blasted out, but it hit Martínez!

What a pity!

"Jadon!"

Tang Ye jogged over slowly, pointing at the byline: "Listen to my voice; you could have gone down the line just now, let me cut inside!"

"It seems Tang Ye on the pitch isn't very satisfied with Sancho's decision just now; he's educating the youngster, haha, though Tang Ye is actually a youngster himself."

"Mm, as we were saying, Sancho is a player whose dribbling ability and sprinting breakthrough skills are first-class, but regarding his passing choices..."

"Tsk, it's not that Sancho's passing choices are bad, it's just that you won't find a player in football history better at decision-making than Tang Ye."

Sancho came over to high-five Tang Ye, while Pogba shouted something at the same time.

Pogba believed Sancho's idea of cutting inside on his own was extremely reckless.

"I could hear Tom's voice."

Pogba emphasized: "You have to prick up your ears and listen; playing on your own yields no results."

"Mm."

Time quickly reached the 10th minute!

The score on the pitch remained 0:0; Duo Te Cheng Gong had successfully pulled their possession rate up to 60%.

In the first 10 minutes, Escrivá gathered a lot of information, the most critical points of which could be listed as follows:

1. Manchester United indeed does not like to possess the ball.

2. To play against Manchester United, one must rely on counter-attacks.

3. Rashford's form is surprisingly poor.

4. Watch out for Little Tang Ye's (B. Fei) first touch; the Portuguese midfielder has considerable creativity.

Overall, the situation was much like the pre-match analysis, but this did not allow Escrivá's heart to relax.

Before seeing the result, Escrivá would not show any reaction.

"Block him, block him!"

Tang Ye shouted; Guerrero wanted to go up, but Pogba beat him to it.

He went straight into a sliding block!

"Oh!"

Pogba played very aggressively, but the distance was truly too great; his block on Rodri did not produce a good result.

Because Rodri quickly regained control of the ball!

Fuck!

Tang Ye also prepared to go up for a tackle, but gave up upon realizing the distance was insufficient.

Retreat immediately!

"Watch Marcus, watch Marcus!"

Signaling teammates to mark Rashford!

Rodri!

Slap!

A low, long pass flies out; Rodri easily feeds the ball to Rashford.

Although playing as a defensive midfielder, Rodri's ability to deliver through-balls is at the level of a top-tier attacking midfielder!

"Fuck you!"

"Trash British!"