Chapter 766: Old Trafford Tang Tang Qiuwang Ballon d'Or Celebration, Manchester United Part Two

"In position! Tang Tang Qiuwang!"

"Roll call! 1, 2, 3, 4... The Tang Army is fully assembled!"

"Why play against a newly promoted team? Isn't this just a straight-up massacre?"

"The grandeur has arrived, brothers; show us what a Northern Great Nation award winner can do."

"Burnley's starting lineup is only worth 70 million euros; who said there are no weak teams in the Premier League? Well, actually, 70 million euros isn't weak either."

"Tang Ye!!"

"Wow!!!"

"Pfft!!!"

"Pfft pfft!!!"

Large amounts of dry ice on both sides of the player tunnel exploded simultaneously, forming a thick fog before the entrance that was impenetrable to the naked eye.

Although no one was visible yet, the fans on site were already beside themselves with excitement.

"Tang Ye!"

"Tang Ye!"

"The fucking United King! (King of Manchester United!)"

"Beep beep beep beep!!!!"

The venue, holding nearly 80,000 people, appeared somewhat crowded; unsurprisingly, the number of fans present today likely exceeded the seat count.

Just two weeks ago, countless media outlets announced the dawn of a new era in modern football.

Standing at such a pivotal moment, fans had to be present on site to witness the birth of this new era with their own eyes!

As the thick fog slowly dispersed, Tang Ye walked out cradling his two Ballon d'Or trophies.

Just like during the award ceremony, he held one in his left hand and one in his right; hugging the trophies against his chest gave him a feeling of being at a loss.

"Click click!"

"Wow!!!"

"Bravo, Tom!"

Amidst the cheers, Tang Ye stepped onto the pitch and slowly walked toward the center circle.

Come to think of it, holding two Ballons d'Or simultaneously was indeed rather inappropriate.

Because in this state, Tang Ye had no way to clap for himself or for the fans in the stands.

With both hands tucked together, Tang Ye tried using his left hand to touch his right.

Oh, it actually seemed like it might work?

Slowly walking into the center circle, for some reason the snow on site fell heavier and heavier, pure white flakes landing on Tang Ye's head.

The worst part was that the snow showed no sign of stopping.

"Clap clap clap!"

"Clap clap clap!!"

The host, ready and waiting in the center, held a microphone and guided Tang Ye to view the celebration podium arranged directly in the middle of the center circle, the podium's backdrop featuring photos of Tang Ye from various periods.

Of course, excluding his time at Borussia Dortmund and Villarreal; this was Ten Hag's request.

"Tom!"

The female host nodded slightly to Tang Ye: "You ultimately did it."

"Of course!"

Arriving on the podium, Tang Ye was still awkwardly clapping.

Snowflakes flew chaotically across his face, but this did not affect Tang Ye's observation of the situation in the stands.

"Doesn't this snow seem a bit out of place with today's atmosphere?" the host said.

"Oh, I think it doesn't matter."

Just as Tang Ye prepared to speak, the host wanted to take the Ballon d'Or trophies from his hands to make it easier for him to hold the microphone.

But after a moment's thought, she realized that was wrong, and ultimately decided to let Tang Ye hold the Ballon d'Or trophies himself, while she held the microphone up to his mouth.

Double Ballon d'Or is double Ballon d'Or; this is a special honor that cannot be altered.

"..."

The host asked Tang Ye several questions, and every time Tang Ye answered, the Old Trafford stands would let out a scream.

The frequency was so high that one could boldly guess the fans actually hadn't heard a single word Tang Ye said.

They only knew that Tang Ye was speaking, so they screamed; it was that simple.

"Does Manchester United hold any special significance for you?"

"Well... of course!"

"I already answered this question when accepting the award, but I am very willing to answer it again. Especially here, at Old Trafford; this place will always be special."

"Wow!!!!"

"..."

He had only just started speaking!

Tang Ye was somewhat speechless and signaled for the fans on site to calm down: "There's nothing to get excited about; let me finish saying..."

"Wow!!! Tom!!!"

"You are the fucking GOAT!!!"

"... Okay, okay, stay calm."

Tang Ye took a deep breath: "Manchester United is absolutely special to me, because this place can be said to be where I was truly made. I love this place, I love Manchester, and I also love Old Trafford; I have won countless honors here."

"Old Trafford made me."

Tang Ye stated with certainty, once again expressing his gratitude to the fans.

"Well... Tom, we know that since your professional career officially began at age sixteen, you've played for quite a few teams, including Utrecht, Borussia Dortmund, and Villarreal. So, in your opinion, which team is your favorite?"

"..."

The venue suddenly fell silent; the large screen displayed Tang Ye's face.

The image quality was incredibly sharp; you could even clearly see the pores on Tang Ye's face.

Not expecting the host to ask such a question, Tang Ye burst out laughing.

"Actually, that isn't even a question."

"The answer has always been fixed; I've always been very clear about that."

Taking a deep breath, Tang Ye raised the Golden Balls in both hands simultaneously: "The United!"

"Vaaaaa!!!!"

"Holy shit!! Tom!!!"

"Tang Ye!"

Bang! Bang!

"Tang Ye!!"

Bang! Bang!

Staff members tossed out three balls, and Tang Ye, clutching the trophy, ran out.

First, a kick!

Smack!

The ball soared into the stands.

It looked somewhat intimidating, but in reality, after reaching its highest point and beginning its descent, the ball's speed suddenly became incredibly, incredibly slow for some reason.

It even curved when the wind blew, finally landing in the hands of a fan in the second-tier stands.

"Tang Ye!!"

"Over here!!"

"What the fuck!"

Smack!

Smack!

Two consecutive kicks: right foot to the left, left foot to the right.

If one were to draw a dividing line down the center of the pitch at that moment, you would discover that the flight paths of these two balls were nearly symmetrical; the only difference was the color of the balls.

"Again, again!"

The fans were still shouting; in the camera frame, Tang Ye looked at the Golden Ball trophy in his hands.

"Wow!!"

Run-up!

Right arm extended!

"Wow!!!"

"Haha!"

After mimicking a shooting motion, Tang Ye kicked at thin air: "This one won't do; this one really won't do."

"Haha!"

"Xuuu!!!"

"Xuuu!!!"

"Wow!!! Tang Ye!!!"

Just joking, Tang Ye acknowledged the fans in every direction, after which players from both Manchester United and Burnley emerged sequentially from the player tunnel.

Players from both the home and away teams expressed their congratulations to Tang Ye with applause.

"Wow..."

Gudmundsson asked Tang Ye for one of the Golden Ball trophies and kept stroking it with his hand.

"How does it feel?"

Westwood, standing nearby, looked at his teammate: "Though I must remind you, this isn't yours."

"Haha! Of course I know that!"

Gudmundsson returned the Golden Ball trophy to Tang Ye, and the two bumped fists: "Go easy!"

"No guarantees."

"Haha, shit!"

"China Central Television, here is the live broadcast bringing you..."

"The match has begun; I will now introduce the starting lineups for both teams today, starting with the home team, Manchester United!"

Manchester United (4-3-3)

Goalkeeper: De Gea

Defenders: Wan-Bissaka, De Ligt, Phil Jones, Dalot

Midfielders: B. Fernandes, Tang Ye (C), De Jong

Forwards: Greenwood, C. Ronaldo, Rashford

Head Coach: Ten Hag

Manchester United's starting lineup today shows relatively significant changes compared to the previous match.

If one had to find a single word to describe it, it could only be called disgusting.