Chapter 871: Who are you?

It’s 9:30 p.m. local time, and a large crowd of fans without tickets has gathered outside the Bay Arena.

No ticket? Doesn’t matter—watch the big screen outside and listen to the screams from inside the stadium, and you’ll still feel like you’re right there.

The outside area is also a favorite spot for many tabloid reporters.

【Qatar World Cup Column】

“Wow!”

A Dutch fan raises his hand toward the reporter, sees he’s a Middle Easterner, and switches to English.

“This is the Netherlands!”

“We’ll be the first team to reach the semifinals! This is the Netherlands!”

The Netherlands’ overall performance in this World Cup has been solid, and their head coach, Fan Jiaer, has earned fan approval—you can even hear fans outside the stadium chanting the names of Gakpo and Fan Jiaer.

“What do you think of China’s performance? They’re the biggest dark horse of this World Cup.”

“What’s a dark horse? Hah!”

The interviewed fan shrugs: “I know China—big country, powerful army—but football… hah! (Big country, powerful army, but football)”

“To be honest, I’ve barely heard of Chinese football—Tang Ye is the only Chinese player I know.”

The fan holds up his right hand in a “tiny bit” gesture.

“Big country, small football!”

He doesn’t need to emphasize what he just said, but he repeats it anyway: “You know, our last opponent was the U.S.—they’re just like China, but they play even worse than China.”

At this point, his allegiance is clear—he’s either an Ajax fan or an Eintracht fan; among all Dutch supporters, these two groups dislike Tang Ye the most.

He steps forward, closer to the camera, and points directly at the lens: “CHN? Who are you!”

“Hah!”

…

Reposted from TheScored: In the first half against the Netherlands, China’s ball possession was 42%, with effective possession under half.

Hot topic: So far, the Netherlands have not conceded a single goal in the knockout stage.

【This fucking referee—why wait so long to blow the whistle? Are you targeting us? Can China never beat the Netherlands?】

【Get Li Tie out of prison and put him in charge—bribe the ref! Has my brother Li Tie been locked up yet?】

【Don’t panic, guys—0:1 at halftime isn’t bad; the Netherlands are way stronger than Spain.】

【Strong? Bullshit—they’re just relying on brute force. If you like physical play, why not play rugby? How many times has Tang Ye been slammed in the first half?】

【Stupid Netherlands—I’m done with them.】

Because the goal was disallowed, many Chinese fans are now furious.

But I have to say, the Netherlands' playing style today is genuinely hard to accept.

Every World Cup team treats Tang Ye as a primary target—that’s normal tactical planning, no issue there.

But the Netherlands went to an extreme: in today’s match, they used two match balls, one from Adidas and one from GGBond.

“Shit…”

Tang Ye strips off his shirt and presses his left hand against a muscle on his right arm: “Fuck…”

“Let me see.”

The team doctor walks over and quickly assesses the injury.

It’s a classic impact injury—if untreated, bruising will appear in a few hours.

“You could’ve just fallen to the ground and waited for the whistle.”

The doctor suggests: “You can’t play through this pain.”

“I… forget it!”

Tang Ye grits his teeth and decides not to explain—he knows this isn’t the most urgent problem right now.

“Hey, I just don’t get it—haven’t you noticed how shit our first half was?”

“We played worse than in the Round of 16—we’re getting worse and worse, what the hell are we doing?”

“… ”

The players in the room turn their gazes toward Tang Ye.

The doctor applying ice to Tang Ye feels awkward, rubs his nose, and steps aside slightly.

“The Netherlands played much better than Spain—we’re behind, that’s normal, no need to blame Tang Ye.”

“No, I know being behind is normal, but don’t you feel like none of us are in form?”

Tang Ye’s direct rebuttal catches Ma Di off guard—he steps back, shrugs, and falls silent.

“When Delfour and Blind drop back, they turn into five defenders—and then? Then we can’t break through on either flank—what’s the point of playing?”

“I feel this isn’t a tactical problem!”

“You came into this quarterfinal with a ‘just get by’ mindset—how can we possibly lead? We’re bound to fall behind!”

“… ”

The locker room is silent.

Escrivá and Ma Di exchange a glance—neither speaks.

Before the group stage even began, Escrivá had predicted this moment—he knew Tang Ye would think his teammates played poorly.

In Escrivá’s prediction, this moment should’ve happened during the group stage, not now in the quarterfinal.

This is… late but arriving?

“We beat Spain, advanced to the quarterfinals—great, yes, great. But you can’t just shut down after the Round of 16?”

He spreads his hands: “If you’re all slacking off, how can we lead? Left flank can’t break through, right flank can’t break through, offense can’t even generate anything—how could we not be behind in the first half?”

“That one time, 20 minutes in—I was ready to pass through the center, looked toward the left baseline, and there were Fernando and Li Lei just standing there.”

“I wanted to combine with you guys, but you ignored me completely—I was trembling, felt like I was playing against eleven men alone! You saw me dribbling, making moves—can you give me any feedback?”

The doctor applying ice to Tang Ye is now the most awkward person—he hands Tang Ye the ice pack, and Tang Ye immediately throws it aside.

Doctor: …

Tang Ye turns his head, then straightens up.

“I’m not asking you to score, or to smash their defense to pieces—but can you just play normally? Can you snap out of it? Can you have some ambition?”

“I won’t say anything else—this is it.”

“… ”

No one speaks. The Chinese team’s locker room is eerily quiet—they need time to process what Tang Ye just said.

There’s some exaggeration, but based on the actual first-half performance, some of what Tang Ye said makes sense.

These were exactly the points Escrivá planned to make—but Tang Ye stood up and said them all himself.

Advancing to the quarterfinals is impressive, but the World Cup isn’t over.

Imagine taking a math test—you spent 90 minutes finishing all the earlier questions, and you still have 30 minutes left for the final big problem.

You’ve got half an hour—can you just skip the last problem?

Wouldn’t that be stupid?

While Escrivá explains substitutions and tactical changes, the Chinese players slightly adjust their mood.

“This chance to reach the quarterfinals is so rare—really, everyone, give it your all.”

At Feng Xiaoting’s call, the players form a circle in the center of the locker room.

“3, 2, 1!”

“China!”

“Go!”

After shouting “Go!”, the circle doesn’t break immediately—Tang Ye leans down and earnestly tells his teammates: “Have some ambition—and when you see my signals or gestures, react fast. Give me feedback, or I’m going to shake all over out there—I’m really nervous.”

“Go! Play boldly!”

“If you see a chance to pass to me, just do it—don’t hold back just because I’m not a striker. Pass freely—if we lose the ball, it’s on me.”