Chapter 93: Pass the Ball to Tang! (Seeking Monthly Votes!)

"No words, but deeds!"

"Long live Feyenoord!"

"Hand in hand, comrades!"

"..."

The Feyenoord team anthem rang out across the stadium.

It was the 10th minute of the first half, and the home fans were extremely excited.

They could see that their home team held the advantage!

Looking at the current possession rate, Utrecht had less than 40%.

And this was even with Tang Ye joining the press!

Clearly, against Feyenoord's fast attacking rhythm, Utrecht's forward press had not achieved the desired effect.

"Utrecht is struggling a bit now; De Jong, get the ball to the left flank."

"Hallé drops back to receive the ball; let's see if he can find an attacking opportunity!"

"Hallé is trapped; Tang Ye moves in to challenge him!"

"Hallé passes to Tang Ye!"

"It's showtime for Tang Tang Qiuwang!"

The camera focused on Tang Ye; as he had run over, he noticed an open space near the right baseline where Di Di Bala was positioned, so immediately after receiving the ball, Tang Ye turned his head to look toward the right flank.

Unfortunately, during the brief moment Tang Ye had taken to make his run, both Di Di Bala and Ramseelaar, who had made a supporting run down the right flank, were marked by defenders.

"..."

With no other option, Tang Ye directly passed the ball back to Joosten, who had dropped deep to support.

"Go, go, go!"

Joosten shouted twice, and Tang Ye reacted instantly, sprinting straight into the penalty area.

This was an offensive positional swap for Utrecht, and a vertical one at that; Tang Ye ran directly into the box!

"Look, look!"

Goalkeeper Vermeer grew anxious and quickly signaled his defenders at the back to stop Tang Ye.

Van Beek reached out, but Tang Ye, who was sprinting, suddenly crouched down and then stood back up, perfectly avoiding Van Beek's intentional foul.

You can do it like that!?

The players inside the box panicked; Joosten turned and played a through ball past Bertens, sending it directly into the penalty area.

"One-on-one!"

"This is a one-on-one chance for Tang Ye!"

"Why is it a one-on-one for Tang Ye!"

"Never mind that, let's just watch this play now."

Tang Ye's speed wasn't fast enough, and Joosten's pass was struck with too much force.

From a god's-eye view, goalkeeper Vermeer should have touched the ball first.

But this did not stump Tang Ye.

A sliding shot straight away!

Bang!

Tang Ye slid across the grass, pressing the tip of his foot downward, successfully beating Vermeer to the ball.

A toe-poke shot!

"GOOOOO——AAAAAA——LLLLLLLL!!!"

"Tang Ye!"

"Tang Ye scores, giving Utrecht the lead!"

"What's happening, what is this situation!?"

The fans in the live stream grew excited.

On the surface, it seemed like Feyenoord was leading, yet Tang Ye always found a way to score before his opponents could.

This was the charm of Tang Tang Qiuwang!

"Haters, show yourselves! Haters, show yourselves!"

"Was that luck? Tell me, was that luck!"

"Damn it, if I, Tang Tang Qiuwang, don't pull off a move for just one day, you haters start yapping again."

In the camera frame, Tang Ye spread his arms wide and threw a powerful uppercut.

"TOM!"

Hallé charged up from behind, slipped his hands under Tang Ye's armpits, and lifted up the team's key contributor.

"Clap, clap, clap, clap!"

Ten Hag applauded the players on the field.

The match continued.

Fan Bulong was now under considerable pressure.

Originally holding both home-field advantage and superior form, Fan Bulong had thought this match was as good as won.

But now it seemed that was not the case.

There was a ghost on the opposing side!

Fan Bulong held up two fingers to his players on the field.

This was a secret signal within the Feyenoord team.

One finger meant playing mobile warfare.

Two fingers meant looking for a way to earn a set piece.

The director reacted quickly, cutting immediately to the camera shot.

The head coach's original intent was to adjust tactics, but in the fans' eyes, the meaning of those two fingers might not be quite right.

【Holy crap, still talking about two goals? Is Feyenoord this arrogant?】

【Looks like they haven't been taught a lesson enough by my Brother Meng; once Brother Meng delivers a god-tier pass, they'll know the gap between them and Utrecht.】

【My Brother Meng is the king of the three-stripe knee slide; you think I'm afraid of your two fingers?】

【Charge, charge, charge! KNVB Cup champions!】

【This Feyenoord team thought they were invincible after beating Utrecht once at the start of the season; we have to crush them to death.】

【I feel Tang Ye's goal was just luck; Feyenoord's strength is genuinely formidable, and Utrecht isn't necessarily going to win.】

【The person above better turn off their private messages.】

Arriving at the 28th minute of the first half, a small passing error occurred in Utrecht's midfield.

Ramselaar thought Tang Ye was going to press high, but Tang Ye didn't press, so his pass to Tang Ye went straight to Ahmedi's feet.

Ahmedi immediately passed to Vilhena on the left wing!

Vilhena passed again to Kuyt!

The Utrecht players realized something was wrong; everyone from midfield to the forwards began retreating.

Kuyt's speed was extremely fast, directly eating Tang Ye alive!

Passed to Elia!

Elia went down the line!

Elia and Claebe engaged in a one-on-one on the wing; Elia pressured the Utrecht defense bit by bit, and once the pressure was sufficient, Elia delivered a cutback.

Now holding the ball was Feyenoord's defensive midfielder, Ahmedi!

Ahmedi adjusted his steps twice.

Feigned a shot!

Suddenly ran into the penalty area!

De Jong, fooled by the feint, sensed something was wrong and reached out to pull Ahmedi down directly.

"Beep!"

De Jong received a yellow card for this pull, but it was the only option available.

He had to take this yellow card.

Because if he didn't, it truly wouldn't work!

Ahmedi rolled once on the ground; being suddenly brought down just as he was about to enter the penalty area did leave him somewhat unwilling to accept it.

However, after standing up, Ahmedi suddenly regained his smile.

Not because De Jong had received a yellow card for it.

But because the spot for the free kick drawn by referee Goederen was positioned directly facing the goal.

A perfect direct free-kick spot!

"Stand firm, stand firm! Move left, move left!"

Goalkeeper Ruiter began arranging the wall.

A set piece for Feyenoord!

Handed to Kuyt to take!

Direct shot!

The ball flew out between the heads of Tang Ye and Ramselaar, finally successfully entering the net.

The angle of this shot was simply perfect!

"Wowwww!!!"

The home fans in the stadium stands erupted in cheers.

"This fierce?"

Tang Ye held his waist with both hands, his expression clearly not looking good.

Kuyt's level of direct free-kick execution was truly beyond his expectations!

"Feyenoord!"

Boom boom!

"Feyenoord!"

Boom boom!

With the score tied at 1:1 as play resumed, the passion of the home fans was completely ignited.

Everyone says Feyenoord, PSV, and Ajax are the three giants of the Eredivisie, yet this season Utrecht emerged as a dark horse, directly pushing Feyenoord down to fourth place.

The most embarrassing part was that Feyenoord, in fourth place, trailed PSV in third by a full 10 points, and trailed Utrecht by even more—16 points!

The KNVB Cup final was Feyenoord's best chance to save face!

The sudden change made Ten Hag feel something was slightly off, so he instructed Amrabat to start warming up.

Arriving at the 37th minute, the score was still 1:1, but Utrecht was visibly at a disadvantage.

"I'll take it, I'll take it!"

Tang Ye actively called for the ball again; his jersey was now completely soaked in sweat.

Barring any surprises, this should be the match with the most active off-ball running of his career so far!

Here it comes!

Tang Ye brought Kum's low pass to a stop.

Learning from previous lessons, Krammer targeted Tang Ye the moment he received the ball.

Holy shit!

Krammer, standing nearly two meters tall, charged at Tang Ye, startling him into instinctively stepping backward.

But it was no big deal; Tang Ye adjusted immediately.

Dribbling past him was impossible, so Tang Ye passed the ball to Ramse on the right.

Ramse passed to Balazhit.

Balazhit passed it back!

The combination play was excellent, and Tang Ye regained possession.

He sent the ball straight toward the right-wing byline!

Tang Ye's pass not only went through but was delivered with great stability.

But!

Balazhit didn't run!

"Damn it!"

Balazhit clutched his head with both hands, watching helplessly as Tang Ye's pass rolled to Kong Kong Geluo's feet.

He hadn't reacted in time!

Ten Hag threw up his hands in helplessness.

If Balazhit had made that run just now, it would likely have created a valid attacking opportunity.

But blaming Balazhit outright wasn't entirely fair either.

Ten Hag sat back down on the substitute bench chair when Fan Fan Dejiahe suddenly asked him a question.

"Did you expect him to pass directly to the byline?"

Ten Hag glanced around, confirmed that his players weren't paying attention to him, then whispered in reply: "No."

"Phew, that was close!"

"The first half is over! Still 1:1."

"Damn, you scared me; Feyenoord nearly took the lead, but luckily, Ruiter came through."

"It's level now, but I feel like we can't keep playing like this."

"Utrecht's rhythm isn't as good as Feyenoord's; if we keep this up, something bad will happen sooner or later."

"Ten Hag, Saint Ten! Can you think of something!"

The situation became tense; the Utrecht camp was now under immense pressure.

"Damn, those opposing forwards charge at us the moment we get the ball; I'm truly fucking fed up."

"They're applying too much pressure."

Tang Ye and De Jong chatted all the way until they reached the locker room.

"Hurry up, hurry up, everyone sit down!"

Ten Hag stood in the center urging them on, while Tang Ye and De Jong jogged to the corner and sat beside Amrabat.

"Got any more chewing gum?"

De Jong placed his hand on Tang Ye's thigh, prompting the latter to turn around and fetch his backpack from the locker.

"I want one too!"

Allé ran over and took two pieces.

Ten Hag kept fiddling with his tactical board; he noticed the players chewing gum.

Except for Tang Ye, who simply enjoyed chewing it, the others were doing so due to high stress.

"I know you're under a lot of pressure right now; you know why the pressure is so high—because the opponent's pressing is so fast."

"The moment you get the ball, they come rushing over—bam, bam, bam!"

Ten Hag mimed a running motion on the spot, then spread his hands: "So I need you to keep the ball moving; you need to pass faster. The defenders need to support the midfielders, and sometimes the midfielders need to support the forwards even more."

"The essence of attack is finding ways to create a numerical advantage in the final third against the opponent, though that's not absolute..."

Ten Hag's last sentence was spoken rather quietly.

"So we're going to employ a high press too?"

Ramse asked.

"Yes, we can apply high pressure; the opponent's efficiency in open play isn't as exaggerated as I previously imagined, so we can push our defensive line further forward."

Ten Hag explained: "Then there's the passing; here's a key point..."

"When you're dribbling, pay attention: if you see no defenders around Tang's position, find a way to get the ball to his feet."

Huh?

Suddenly hearing his name, Tang Ye was slightly bewildered and quickly lifted his head.

Being stared at by Tang Ye made Ten Hag's face turn slightly red.

"Um, it's like this: Tang's position is relatively central; he can distribute the ball to either the left or right flank. He is the card dealer; you need to give him the cards—that's the logic. I'm not saying Tang is the core, just that you need to do this."

"Anyway, just remember this."

Ten Hag looked around at the players in the locker room.

"Forwards, mind your positioning, and pass the ball to Tang's feet more often."

Fan Fan Dejiahe walked over, leaned close to Ten Hag's ear, and whispered a reminder: "This doesn't seem like a tactic."

"No, this is the tactic."

……

"The second half begins! Welcome back, everyone. The score is still 1:1; let's see what tactical adjustments Ten Hag has made."

"Can Utrecht rise to the occasion? This is their closest brush with the KNVB Cup title in nearly ten years!"

The camera cut to Tang Ye; his unusually serious expression surprised the fans in the live stream.

【What's going on with Tang Tang Qiuwang?】

【Tearing up. Brother Meng wants this title so badly.】

【Tang Ye: My teammates are truly too weak; I have no choice but to step up.】

The fans did not know what important mission Ten Hag had entrusted to Tang Ye at halftime.

Tang Ye knew that mission.

It was to distribute the ball!

Ten Hag stood before the Utrecht bench, squinting.

In this final, which would decide the championship trophy, Ten Hag had deployed his ultimate tactic.

The outcome now depended entirely on the players on the pitch!

"Tooststra!"

"He's carrying the ball into the box himself; Tooststra is being so arrogant!"

"Tooststra is still showing off!"

"Tang Ye is closing in—direct tackle!"

"Beautiful!"

"……"

"Damn, how did he miss that? What's wrong with Di Di Bala today!"

Di Di Bala's volley shot soared into the stands, startling both home and away fans into clutching their heads.

Having failed to convert two consecutive golden opportunities, Di Di Bala's form was clearly off.

"It's okay, it's okay!"

Tang Ye ran over and patted Di Di Bala on the shoulder: "There's still time, there's still time."

Under Ten Hag's "ultimate tactic" adjustment, Tang Ye's touches in the second half increased noticeably.

But Feyenoord also adjusted their tactics; Ahmadi abandoned offense entirely, marking Tang Ye tightly all by himself.

Van der Mareel passed the ball to Tang Ye, and Ahmadi immediately pressed him from behind.

Damn it!

Tang Ye used his buttocks to shield, intending to feint and run after touching the ball, only to be brought down directly by Ahmadi.

Simply detestable!

Time ticked away minute by minute; reaching the 80th minute, the score between both sides remained 1:1.

Feyenoord's midfield focused heavily on Tang Ye, which indirectly weakened their attacking capability.

"Ten Hag is too brilliant!"

"Ten Hag probably knew this approach would prevent the opponent from scoring."

"But it's a pity; Tang Ye is now finding it very difficult to create passing opportunities!"

"……"

"Vilhena, shoot directly!"

"Not bad, not bad; the goalkeeper is in good form today."

Both head coaches were growing somewhat anxious.

They glanced at the large screen at the very top of the stadium.

88'21

It was the 88th minute; preliminarily, stoppage time for this match was estimated to be three or four minutes.

The probability of another goal in the final six minutes was already slim, making Ten Hag feel quite distressed.

As the relatively weaker side, Utrecht should, in theory, be able to accept extra time.

But Utrecht simply could not accept it.

Running for ninety minutes would already be extremely taxing for Tang Ye; he would likely not hold up in extra time.

With Tang Ye on the field, Utrecht's attack was effectively castrated!

Ten Hag was helpless; possessing excellent tactical acumen, he found himself unable to make any further arrangements.

He turned around.

"Ayoub, get changed…"

"Wowww!"

Just as Ten Hag was about to send Ayoub to warm up, a large section of fans in the stands suddenly rose to their feet.

What the hell?

Ten Hag quickly turned his head back.

Tang Ye had inexplicably moved to the right-wing position.

He was posing as a winger, yet he was not running toward the byline!

Slap!

【De Bruyne's 45-degree cross】

The ball flew directly from the right wing into the penalty area; Haller accelerated rushing in.

He adjusted with small, quick steps.

He jumped up and shot directly at the goal!

Goalkeeper Vermeer's fingertips touched the ball, but it was of no use.

The ball...

Went in!

【You have obtained 5 Counterattack Points】

"Beautiful!"

"Last-minute winner!"

"Tang Ye's perfect 45-degree cross!"

"Goal!"

"2:1!"

"2:1!"

Bang bang bang!

The sound of mechanical keyboards striking the computer desk came from the live stream room.

Five minutes of stoppage time, a goal in the 91st minute.

If this isn't a last-minute winner, what is?

This is a last-minute winner!

"..."

The home fans' section was unusually silent; Ten Hag rushed out with the Utrecht players on the bench.

"Tactics, this is tactics!"

Ten Hag let out a roar, then dropped to his knees and slid across the pitch.

Although he didn't slide far, his excited emotions were indeed vented.

"TOM!"

Not forgetting the well-digger when drinking water, Haller rushed toward Tang Ye at great speed.

Cramer was nearly two meters tall, and Haller was hardly any shorter; seeing Haller running toward him from afar, Tang Ye felt somewhat nervous.

"Good ball!"

Haller headbutted Tang Ye, knocking him to the ground.

"Oh, sorry, sorry!"

Then he pulled him up from the ground.

"TOM! Good ball, we got the last-minute winner, we got the last-minute winner!"

Tang Ye was surrounded by his teammates in the innermost circle; Ten Hag, who had run over, desperately wanted to hug Tang Ye, but alas, he was shut out.

"Mr. Sitting Like!"

Ayoub hurried over: "Mr. Sitting Like, do I still need to change clothes?"

"Change, hurry up and change clothes!"

Ten Hag shouted loudly: "Change clothes and prepare for the award ceremony!"

(End of chapter)