Chapter 779: Wu Lei, Today You Are the World's Number One Striker!

"Why is this referee so damn shady? Does he have an Instagram? I'm going to flood his comments right now!"

"Saint Escriba is taking the fall for this one; where are our substitutions?"

"Classic blame-the-coach-when-behind. With Chi Chi Zhongguo and Zhang Zhang Linpeng in this form, what hope do we have? And every time Wu Xi gets the ball, he looks for Tang Ye—I'm getting a headache just watching it."

The comment section had already exploded.

At such a critical juncture, the Chinese team was actually trailing.

This was absolutely, absolutely unacceptable!

Bang!

Tang Ye pushed open the locker room door and kicked a mineral water bottle lying on the floor.

"Damn this referee!"

"Hey, hey, calm down, calm down."

Marti pushed Tang Ye all the way to his seat, while Escriba was already working on the tactical board.

"Okay! That's about it..."

"I know you're all anxious right now, but I have to say, I'm anxious too. However, being anxious is useless now; it serves no purpose at all and might even affect our performance on the field!"

Escriba said.

With time running short, the Spanish manager immediately halted all conversation among the players in the emergency locker room meeting.

"Why are we behind? The referee is certainly part of the reason, but that's something we can't change; that's not what we're discussing, okay?"

"What we can change is our own performance. Haven't you noticed yet? We're not playing well enough, or rather, we're playing terribly!"

"..."

The Chinese national team players in the locker room all lifted their heads.

Escriba rarely used adjectives like "terrible" or "awful."

It was clear that the head coach of the Chinese team was truly angry now.

Or, to be more precise, he was nervous.

As a Champions League-winning manager, being repeatedly thwarted while leading the national team to qualify for the World Cup finals was objectively normal, but subjectively, to be honest, Escriba found it somewhat unacceptable.

Gritting his teeth, Escriba wrestled internally, because his next choice would be controversial.

"In the second half, we need to make some adjustments; um... pass the ball more to Tom and Lei."

Wu Lei looked up at Escriba, who continued his unfinished thought: "Earlier I said we need to focus more on coordination with players in all positions, but for this match, forget that instruction for now. I'm sorry, but... what we need to do today is win this match first; otherwise, everything else is meaningless."

"Don't leave the suspense for the next round; we cannot make concessions, especially at a time like this!"

The players nodded one after another: "And then there's the striker."

"Can I say something?"

The one who spoke was Tang Ye; Escriba nodded: "Of course, but... Tom, I think what you're about to say and what I'm about to say should be the same."

"Then... should you say it, or should I?"

"Hey, now is not the time to worry about that; we need to save time!"

Escriba scolded Tang Ye.

"..."

"Then I'll say it."

Tang Ye stood up, quickly walked over to Escriba's side, and began manipulating the magnetic flags on the tactical board.

"We are currently trailing by one goal, and if you ask me, our biggest problem right now is still our wing attack; we need to generate offensive threats quickly..."

As Tang Ye spoke, Escriba revealed a long-unseen smile.

Indeed!

Tom and he always thought alike!

Wasn't this more real than those theories about "Tom's mentor being Ten Hag"?

However...

Escriba quickly pulled his attention back.

Now was not the time to study this!

Let's see what Tom has to say.

"We need to play faster attacks, because I can feel that they probably know how we'll play through the middle; every time I try to receive the ball, at least two people come at me, and when I call for you to bail me out, you don't, or every time you do try, you're a beat too slow."

"So let's stop trying to play combination football through the middle; whenever you have a chance to pass to me, just pass it; we'll play long-ball attacks."

"What I mean is, don't feel pressured; I guarantee I can get the ball out, so the strikers must be bolder!"

Tang Ye stated.

The most critical element for the second half wasn't how to execute passing combinations, but that the Chinese team needed a striker.

"I think we need a striker to step up in the second half."

Tang Ye first glanced at Wu Lei, fearing the latter might feel pressured, so he shifted his gaze to Escriba: "We need a striker to step up; if that happens, I think we'll be fine."

After Tang Ye finished speaking, the locker room fell into a brief silence, with Wu Lei and Zhang Zhang Yuning feeling the greatest pressure among them.

A striker needs to step up...

Maybe it's possible if they try hard enough.

The problem was, what was the standard for a striker stepping up in Tang Ye's eyes?

Was this standard really something a Chinese national team striker valued at less than 20 million euros could achieve?

"..."

"Today, we must decide the outcome; we need to know the result tonight, and there can be only one result."

"That is us securing our ticket to the World Cup!"

"Three, two, one!"

Tang Ye shouted the slogan along with his teammates.

"Let's go!!!"

"China Media Group, welcome back, dear audience friends!"

"Currently, the on-field lineup for the Chinese team remains unchanged; however, looking at the substitutes' bench, Luo Lu Guofu and Ai Ai Kesen have already started warming up, because in a trailing situation, Escribá truly needs... well, the ambition to turn the match around!"

"As for the home team, Saudi Arabia..."

"Hey, they're launching a quick counterattack directly!"

Taking advantage of the kickoff, Shehri passed the ball straight back to the center-back.

The center-back adjusted his stance once, then delivered a pass straight out.

"Pull back!"

Tang Ye shouted, his heart rate nearly spiking in an instant.

Come on, Saudi forwards, make a mistake!

Slap!

Al-Dawsari controlled the ball with great finesse.

Stopping abruptly to dodge Wu Xi, who was rushing back to defend, Al-Dawsari chose to pass toward the center.

A familiar tactic, yet effective once again.

Bahebri received the ball and immediately played a through-pass to find Shehri.

Similarly, Shehri came to a halt as soon as he gained possession.

Looking for Muwallad!

By the time the Saudi left winger received the ball, China's midfield defensive line, including parts of the rear defense, had already been torn apart.

Slap!

A high cross into the box!

"Wow!!!"

Shehri accelerated sharply, leaping up to deliver a powerful header.

Yan Yan Junling!

Slap!

The ball was parried away.

"Brilliant save, Yan Yan Junling!"

"Hey!"

"Goal!"

The reversal came too fast.