Chapter 186: When the Sun Kisses His Fertile Land
Spanish midfield and forward players gathered together, embracing each other.
Saul and Koke, the two "Atletico Madrid faction" youngsters, looked at Li Kang with eyes full of admiration.
Their faces beamed with youthful smiles, unable to conceal their excitement.
They are iron-blooded tough guys, they wouldn't want to play some sissy possession football.
Li Kang pressed his hands downward, signaling his teammates to quiet down, then quickly gestured with his fingers, conveying the upcoming tactical changes.
Everyone nodded like chicks pecking at grain.
All are midfield geniuses playing for Europe's top-tier giants; they don't need too much complex communication, a hint is enough, they understand each other implicitly.
Modric bent down, picking up the hairband that had fallen to the ground.
Gazing at the back of Spain's number 6, surrounded by stars, his mood was somewhat complicated.
Rakitic then desperately explained to Brozovic and others: "That kid's back-to-goal play and dynamic duels are very strong; yes, when he charges forward, don't engage in physical battles, you need to grab his static duels in place!"
He is Enrique's most valued favorite at Barcelona... not a waste.
Having played for Schalke 04 and Sevilla, he was already a first-rate midfield workhorse in Europe.
Technique, football IQ, and observational skills are all top-notch.
Yes!
Currently, looking at the "young generation" super talents across the five major leagues...
Kroos in the central lane is invincible.
De Bruyne on the flank is domineering with his back to goal.
Pogba and Li Kang are two "monsters" capable of adapting to all areas, but when playing with their back to goal or receiving the ball facing forward, each still has their own shortcomings!
This cannot be compensated by just any attribute in the game.
This effect cannot be simulated in the game, just as it cannot reflect the traits of Messi, Robben, Harvey, Inzaghi... and others.
Of course.
Three people have transcended the summary of forward and back-to-goal play: the withdrawn Messi, Hazard, and Bale, who evolved from a full-back.
On the sideline,
Miniano excitedly celebrated: "Boss, we want to put all the ball possession focus on Li's shoulders..."
Bosque furrowed his brow, sighing:
"We can't let Li suffer so much."
"He's too exhausted at the club."
"The national team coaching staff needs to clearly recognize his value."
"Lewokusen's tactical system is too monotonous; in matches, all the heavy burden falls on him alone."
"Organization and linking, central progression, deadly passes, finishing shots, defensive covering..."
"Once he is targeted, the entire team will become extremely fragile..."
"In the national team, he doesn't need to do so much dirty work! Teammates will fully unleash his abilities!"
Miniano listened, utterly confused.
He comes from a physical training background.
After pondering for a moment, he roughly understood the old man's meaning: as long as Li plays more easily, it's settled!
On the other side.
Kovacic is under great pressure.
He leads the Croatian golden generation.
The midfield even boasts two super midfielders from Barcelona and Real Madrid.
If they lose the first group stage match, he will be the sinner of Croatia.
"Give it our all, restrict Li!"
"As long as we restrict him, Spain will be lambs ready for slaughter."
The assistant coach beside him nodded frantically and meekly.
Croatia's rise, perhaps under the leadership of that furious, thunderous, joy-exhibiting old man, cannot be achieved...
But this era's checkered team, their style remains flamboyant, they will not choose to park the bus and defend desperately to seek victory.
In the stands.
The Spanish wives' group is also a beautiful scenery line.
They sit in the best seats of the stands, right next to the green pitch.
Sometime unknown, the bullfighters seem to have been cursed.
They always fall in love with women 8 to 10 years older than themselves.
"Lee!!!"
"Lee!!!"
"Lee!!!"
Even if their chests are big, they know Li Kang is the key to Spain's victory.
No response was received.
Li Kang's gaze never moved toward the direction of those old sisters-in-law; instead, he silently picked up the football rolling on the grass and ran back to the center circle.
The match restarted in the center circle.
Mandzukic kicked off, passing back to Modric.
Croatia's formation steadily advanced.
Modric began switching roles.
He could switch between different roles and abilities based on the frequency and intensity of the game!
The Checkered Army once again launched a fluid attack like mercury spilling across the ground, as if a passionate, frenzied rhapsody!
Spain's "midfield defensive line" did not launch a frantic interception, but steadily retreated.
After the Real Madrid match.
Li Kang knew he couldn't stop Modrić, who was active on the "left flank."
No one could stop him.
He chose to ignite the battle in the thirty-meter zone!
Saúl struggled to suppress his urge to press forward, closely following the team's formation as it steadily retreated.
He was not under Atlético's established pressing system.
He simply couldn't handle Modrić.
Forty-meter zone.
The ball returned once again to Modrić's feet.
Morata and David Silva seized the moment he received the ball with his back to goal, forming a double-team.
These two were active in the front part of the formation, building the first line of defense.
"Look at this ball!"
"During the double-team, the timing was spot-on, cutting off passing lanes, and they even seized the opponent's visual blind spot and the moment of receiving the ball with their back to goal..."
"Beautiful! Outside-of-the-foot flick!"
The entire stadium erupted in thunderous applause.
Only seen, Modrić lightly tapped the ball with the outside of his right foot!
The ball broke free from its own center of gravity range.
Morata simply couldn't get a touch on it.
David Silva's mastery of close-quarters space and time axis was equally sublime, but his legs are short.
Modrić happened to flick the ball outside the range of all three.
Immediately after.
The Croatian genius leveraged his positional advantage.
180-degree turn!
Completed a one-over-two dribble!
The entire stadium gasped!
"This is Modrić!"
"Relying on his divine outside-of-the-foot technique, he opened the path for Croatia's advance!"
"His dribbling method always lies outside the center of gravity!"
"Looking across the entire history of football, his outside-of-the-foot stability is in a class of its own! Quaresma and Candréva can only rank in the third tier!"
"Hard to imagine, if this right-footed player played as a right midfielder for Real Madrid and the national team, how terrifying his level would be! He has sacrificed just as much for the team's overall performance!"
Smack!
The ball rolled along the grass, precisely arriving in front of Rakitić on the right flank.
Likewise, a perfect lead.
Allowing Croatia's overall attacking rhythm to have not a single pause!
Brozović and Perišić occupied the two wings, surging forward at high speed in an instant!
Modrić's figure flashed past.
The Checkered Army's artillery is about to blast down the bullfighters' fortress!
"Modrić, is the midfield cornerstone!"
"Rakitić, is the attacking fulcrum!!"
"The two are the relationship between brain and gearshift!"
"The key to acceleration... Rakitić needs to run laterally faster, seeking passing space!"
Can't run!
The Barcelona midfield was preparing to kick the ball out.
Where did the forward passing space go?
The wolf-like Saúl and Cazorla rapidly closed in to press!
Rakitić is strong, with comprehensive abilities, and his dribbling is naturally not bad.
But the interception formation composed of the Atlético youngster and the Arsenal master... utterly neutralized him!
Beastly tackle combined with balanced feet and ultimate center-of-gravity control!
In duels between European top-tier masters, the outcome often hinges on local numerical advantage.
You Rakitić, how are you going to run?
Thud!
In the chaos, no one saw clearly what happened.
The ball rolled unevenly to the left side.
"Badelj, the Florentine genius defensive midfielder, can he continue Croatia's attacking firepower?"
"Oh no!"
Badelj was preparing to lift his foot to receive the ball.
At this moment in Croatia, after Modrić moved forward, he became the hub connecting the front and back lines.
Suddenly a black-haired figure stepped into his path.
Li Kang!
The Purple Lily midfield had never seen such swift positioning.
He could only watch helplessly as possession was taken.
Rakitic looked dismayed.
Modric, who had surged forward to the front line, suddenly turned back, his eyes betraying undisguised disappointment.
Vision.
He had long understood that Li Kang possessed insight akin to God's perspective.
'He saw through our attacking system, directing Saul and Cazorla to shift the defensive focus from me to Rakitic.'
'While waiting to intercept the second ball...'
'The essential goal was to sever the link of Croatia's second-to-last pass...'
The moment Li Kang trapped the ball.
Croatia's attack came to an abrupt halt!
On the sideline.
Minamino stared blankly: Li is too outstanding, too intelligent—he didn't choose to confront Modric head-on, but instead orchestrated interceptions, regaining possession.
Bosque's chubby fingers stroked his little beard, nodding satisfied: That's the effect—Li's main role in the national team is midfield commander, not doing dirty work!
Yinniesita's eyes showed appreciation: Spain has found a brand-new path to revival!
Diego Costa looked around, puzzled: What are these idiots imagining? Isn't this just Li's normal move when he beat Chelsea?
On the other side.
Zakaria waved his fists wildly, shouting loudly: 'Restrain that kid!'
Cannot be restrained.
Li Kang doesn't need to foolishly rely on himself to complete counterattacks in the national team.
The team has far too many adjustable attacking resources!
Pa!
The football left the left foot of Spain's number 6, soaring toward the flank!
Carvajal and Alba had already surged forward!
'Spain's counterattack!'
'The rhythm of attack-defense reversal! So fast!'
'What a passionate match!'
Toulouse Stadium.
No time to erupt into noise.
Fans from both sides were already nearly out of breath!
Still, it was the swift counterattack via wing circulation.
A style of play utterly unrelated to possession-based systems.
Just how strong were Alba and Carvajal at this time?
One was Messi's super accessory.
One was BBC's auxiliary plug-in.
Could Croatia's fragile backline stop them?
No!
The 'defensive dream team' formed by Srna, Jovetic, and others was still inferior to Lewokusen's defense!
Spearhead!
Spain's wings unleashed a sharp, spearhead-like fierce assault!
Completely tearing apart the checkered army!
'Morata's sprint speed is also very fast!'
'Three attacking points!'
'Broken through! Srna can't catch up!'
'Um... David Silva's speed is too slow!'
Live stream.
Bullet comments flying.
-【Flute god awesome! This match is too exhilarating!】
-【Without Modric, I might still not know Croatia exists as a country!】
-【As expected of a ceremonial midfield, power beyond the system!】
-【If Croatia's midfield right flank... had a Cross, they'd truly be invincible!】
-【Yes, Rakitic's position differs from Cross's!】
-【Damn, did the bullet comments lag?】
-【Li Mingdeng awesome! Morata's on another solo run!】
Carvajal, Alba, and Morata charged straight in.
A simple two-foot lateral pass easily tore apart the checkered army's defense!
Empty Croatian backfield.
Goalkeeper Subasic felt anguish in his heart; he gritted his teeth, his mind racing frantically.
Yes!
Defend the weakest one!
Leave the rest to luck!
No hesitation for too long.
He charged forward excitedly toward Morata!
He was seen charging to the edge of the penalty area.
Carvajal was very torn.
Facing the outstretched hand of his childhood friend asking for the ball, he felt a bit reluctant inside.
You damn well should be making the wind-up motion for a bicycle kick like Van Persie!
Head!
I want the head!
Forget it, Alba's gap is too wide, and my own shooting angle isn't steady enough.
Morata, this guy, if he scores another goal, it'll be a hat-trick, right?
Going along the ground should be fine, right?
Pa!
Real Madrid's full-back sent out a graceful, imaginative ground diagonal pass,
"Beautiful!"
"Can shoot now!"
"Morata!"
Peng!
At the moment Morata received the ball, his foot slipped.
Subasic took the opportunity to slide-tackle!
People and horses overturned!
Carvajal angrily hammered the turf.
The football lightly skimmed over the grass, enjoying a brief moment of tranquility.
The whole stadium erupted in an uproar!
Bi!
The main referee blew the whistle.
Pointed to the foul spot, and pulled out a red card from his pocket!
"Red card!"
"Goalkeeper Subasic paid a heavy price for this reckless sortie!"
"This undoubtedly is an added blow for Croatia, who are behind by one goal!"
"Too dramatic!"
"Clearly dominating the field, more impactful Croatia, unknowingly fell into the abyss!"
"No problem! This red card has no controversy whatsoever!"
"To some extent, Subasic preserved Croatia's hope of equalizing the score!"
"He did not let Spain expand their lead."
"In the closing stages of the first half, the Bullfighters' Legion obtained an excellently positioned free kick!"
Toulouse Stadium.
The protesting boos drowned out the cheers.
Croatian players surrounded the referee, desperately explaining.
The result remained unchanged.
Head coach Vatreni painfully covered his face, making the first substitution adjustment.
Substitute goalkeeper Vladić replaced the defensive midfielder Badelj!
With the birth of a red card, the hope of equalizing grew increasingly slim...
Collapsed.
Is it collapsing?
Facing desperation in the first match of the group stage?
Football is the calling card for the Checkered Army to enhance its international influence!
Another side.
Miñano was excited beyond measure.
Bosque quickly pressed him down: "Calm down, we're only leading by one goal, don't underestimate the tenacity of Yugoslav football!"
The assistant coach wondered: "Boss? Yugoslavia? Does that thing still exist now?"
Bosque patted his big belly, and the memory buried for years seemed to be awakened, smiling: "Well, that's a group of... true warriors!"
The match resumed.
Croatia set up a tall human wall.
Speaking solely of aerial defense capability.
They possess a numerical advantage in high-point ability far surpassing that of dwarfs.
Morata and Ramos, Saúl, and Pique lurked in the penalty area.
A little bit nervous, huh.
If the person taking the penalty is Li Kang...
The egg will shatter in an instant.
The head referee pulled out a foam spray can and drew an irregular "U" at the foul spot.
"We can see... Cazorla, David Silva, Cesc, and Li Kang all standing together in front of the penalty spot!"
"That's a bit exaggerated, isn't it? Not even mentioning the national team, even the powerhouses of the five major leagues would struggle to have so many set-piece specialists!"
"If we add the substitutes..."
Duan Xuan and He Wei were momentarily at a loss for words.
Can't count them.
Under normal circumstances, one would choose players based on their preferred foot according to the penalty spot.
But this group of Spanish midfield magicians, each of them has freakish footwork!
The Balkan Peninsula.
Since ancient times, it has been the necessary route for Asian nomadic peoples invading Europe, and simultaneously the frontline where the two continental civilizations clash.
For thousands of years, this place has collided to produce complex and diverse cultures, religions, and ethnicities.
Countless people sat in front of their televisions, with complex emotions.
Yugoslav football once had a glorious and splendid past in history.
The honors in the sports realm once tightly held together the hearts of all the people.
The midfield template behind the great achievements is not Modrić and Rakitić.
But Li Kang!
It is the product of the perfect combination of a strong body and elegant technique!
As early as last year's Champions League qualifying play-off, that stunning free kick at Old Trafford awakened the memories of the Balkan Peninsula's people!
The number 10 jersey of Leverkusen can be seen everywhere on the shattered land.
The Balkan tabloid media said: He must have the blood of the blue Danube flowing in his veins.
The pain of dissolution.
**** incident.
** turmoil.
*** war.
The balance point of Eastern and Western influence.
Let the football form that should have headed for its peak instantly move toward extinction.
Slovenia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Serbia, Kosovo, Macedonia... countless viewers stared at the Spanish number 6 on the screen, as if expecting something.
He is the last elegy of Yugoslav football.
Beep!
The head referee's whistle blew.
The hearts of all the viewers tightened involuntarily.
Vrtic felt a little nervous; although he was the substitute goalkeeper, his professional attitude was very proper, and he had already studied the set-piece characteristics of the group stage opponents early on. The Spanish number 6 before him... most skilled at curling cannonballs, powerful long-range shots—just thinking about it made him feel terrified.
When seeing Li Kang make a move.
The Croatian goalkeeper's inner heart kept praying: Sheep Assault, it must be Sheep Assault!
Li Kang's expression remained calm.
He began his run-up.
The shadow in his brain frenziedly spread, and all attributes were pushed to the extreme.
From God's perspective.
The river of time slowed down again.
In the field of view, a golden phantom wearing the number 11 jersey quietly appeared.
Yugoslav national team—Mihailović.
With each step he took.
The golden phantom scattered specks of fluorescence, which sank into his left foot.
A flawless movement posture.
All kinds of emotions frenziedly devoured Li Kang's consciousness.
Kindness.
Forgiveness.
Reconciliation.
Hope.
Redemption.
Yugoslavia, the last elegy.
Li Kang's steps, movements, and the phantom gradually synchronized.
Arrived before the ball.
He and the golden phantom completely overlapped.
From God's perspective.
Suddenly, a radiant, brilliant path of light burst forth!
Toulouse Stadium, silent as tombs.
The eyes of the whole world followed the moving trajectory in the lens.
There was no violent spinning.
There was no violent howling.
It was like a withered leaf drifting down from a tree branch.
The cycle of falling leaves and withered grass is a node in a life.
No matter how much wind and frost one endures, one ultimately returns to dust.
When the Croatian goal net was lifted again.
The Toulouse stadium seemed to have endured decades of silence.
After a brief commotion.
Thunderous applause.
3:1!!!
"Beautiful!"
"This ball went in!"
"On a midsummer night in France, the Spanish youngster Li Kang made everyone feel the bleakness of autumn!"
"Falling leaf ball!"
"The football curved around the wall, drifting left and right toward the opponent's goal, and when the goalkeeper reacted, it suddenly plunged, shattering all hopes of the Croatians!"
"No problem—this flawless free kick went straight in!"
"Spain extended their lead again!"
"For the ten-man Croatian team, the upcoming match will be extremely difficult."
Li Kang stood in place.
The golden phantom in his vision faded with the wind.
Teammates gathered around him.
"Li, you're amazing! Who said the falling leaf ball is exclusive to little... and Pirlo..."
"This ball is like Balotelli..."
"... has reached the peak level of Mihajlovic's legendary kick from back then!"
"Why are you looking at me? Is the pitch too slippery... I just knew Li could kick the ball in!"
Croatian players lowered their heads.
Red card.
Playing with one less man.
Two goals behind.
Modric rubbed his face with both hands, and in an instant regained his fighting spirit.
He quickly picked up the ball from the net and ran back to the center circle, constantly raising his arms.
Not only to inspire his teammates, but also to inspire the Croatian fans in the stands.
CTV5 live stream.
A dense barrage of comments covered the big screen.
-【Li Mingdeng is awesome! This free kick felt like it touched my soul!】
-【This guy is definitely going to blow up the internet—I don't usually watch football, but I know normal people can't kick like this, and he's handsome too!】
-【Elegant, never outdated!】
-【A work of art, mysterious and unpredictable—no matter from which angle... watching it a hundred times won't get boring!】
-【Spanish football is due for a revival, and the national team's Li Mingdeng is absolutely a top-tier existence—so captivating, game companies will have to update overnight!】
-【Li Kang is going to blow up—his kicks are too entertaining to watch, he'll definitely trend tonight!】
-【The magic flute can't carry it—Croatia's backline and coaching staff have serious tactical flaws that need a coach to fix!】
-【The match still has the second half—you've watched too little football, haven't you heard of the "Ruby War God Card"?】
-【Hehe, eleven against ten! I don't believe the Croatian team can still turn it around—Spain won't give them a chance!】
The match resumed.
Mandzukic felt bitter inside.
Likewise a top striker for Juventus.
Morata, this big flop, nearly completed a hat-trick.
I haven't even touched the ball a few times in the opponent's half...
The football went through several slow passes.
The referee glanced at his watch and blew the whistle for halftime.
Amidst enthusiastic applause.
Players from both sides walked slowly off the pitch.
In the first 45 minutes of the match, full of twists and turns, neutral fans shouted in delight.
"Li, come wipe your sweat... oh! You didn't sweat at all, then have a banana!"
"Conserve your energy—this is just the first group match!"
Spanish locker room.
The coaching staff reviewed the first half's tactical details with the players.
Mininiano stood aside, unable to chime in.
He comes from a fitness coaching background, and his tactical understanding is still far behind that of Casola, David Silva, and Yinniesita.
Bosque stood up and began moving the flags on the small blackboard.
"After Li came on, we restricted Rakitic's linking play in the front line, and we seized two opportunities!"
"Croatia's attacking methods are too one-sided; Modric has very limited resources to work with, and he can't stir up any waves."
"Zhatchich's coaching staff is utterly incompetent; they have no chance of a comeback!"
"In the second half, Saúl and Cazorla continued to man-mark Rakitic; without this passing hub, their flank attacks will grind to a halt!"
"Watch your coordination with Li!"
"Without Badeli, Croatia's defensive structure will become even more fragile!"
"Of course, this is only the first round of the group stage; our main strategy remains conserving energy!"
Czech Republic and Turkey are also tough nuts to crack.
Spain must finish as group winners to advance, in order to enter the easier half of the bracket!
If they finish as group runners-up... and luck is against them.
Who knows, they might have to fight tooth and nail against Italy, Germany, France, and Belgium all the way!
Croatia's locker room.
Zhatchich roared furiously at Subasic.
No one spoke.
For Croatia, football is not merely a simple sport.
Their predecessors, who achieved good results in the European Championship and World Cup at the end of the last century, brought profound international significance.
The checkered team's football carries unimaginable diplomatic significance.
The head coach's anger venting is over.
"We want victory! We no longer need to conserve energy; all cup competition consumption strategies are nullified here and now!"
Modric clapped his hands and began explaining the second-half tactical adjustments to his teammates.
He still wore a smile on his face.
"We are Croatia."
The fifteen-minute halftime break ended quickly.
Both teams' players returned to the pitch.
Toulouse Stadium, the stands on all sides resumed their noise.
Fans likewise adjusted their emotions, cheering on the players anew!
"Good evening, viewers, welcome back!"
"Now broadcasting live: the first round of the group stage in Group D of the 2016 French European Championship!"
"Spain versus Croatia's second half!"
"The first half was especially intense, with both sides contributing four goals, and the temporary score is 3:1!"
"Oh! We see Spain has made another substitution adjustment!"
"Yinniesita substituted for Morata!"
"No-striker formation?"
"This is to strengthen midfield control, right?"
"With one man down, Croatia's upcoming situation may be quite difficult."
Accompanied by the referee's whistle.
The second half begins!
Spanish possession.
Cazorla kicked off, passing laterally to David Silva.
The latter touched the ball once, returning it.
The ball came to Li Kang's feet, still one touch, finding Yinniesita diagonally ahead.
Croatia's midfield and forward players began frantic pressing.
It had no effect.
Even if midfield wasn't short-handed, it would still be very difficult to wrest near-complete control from Spain.
"After Yinniesita came on, the effect was too obvious!"
"Spain's midfield gained an additional ball-receiving outlet."
"They have returned to their tiki-taka style!"
"Hey! Pique, don't zone out—what a close call, thank goodness De Gea came out in time!"
With the passage of time.
Young Spanish number six became the focal point on the pitch.
Li Kang seemed to possess God's perspective, always appearing in the most suitable position to help teammates relieve Croatia's pressing.
Perfect passing and receiving.
Exquisite ball-release force.
Natural, effortless movement.
Yes.
It's done by walking.
The Spanish team seemed to have returned to their former peak dynasty.
In front of the television, fans from the Yin Biliya peninsula had red-rimmed eyes.
Sword-wielder!
Turning possession into a blade and red cloth, the bullfighter who dominates the match!
Bosque looked worried.
He had a bit of regret about taking off Buskets.
Fortunately, Saúl and Coke, the two little guys from midfield, fought hard enough to temporarily cover up the defect of static possession.
Possession-based play is a defensive formation used in Spain.
Controlling the ball.
Saving energy.
Miñano excitedly said: "Boss, there's no suspense in this match."
Bosque shook his head, his tone heavy: "Did you notice the details? Although Croatia is playing with one less man, their tireless running has covered up their numerical disadvantage... It feels like we're still playing against eleven Croatians!"
Modrić kept running back and forth.
He tirelessly roamed every corner of the pitch.
While patching up gaps, he constantly raised his hand to direct teammates, giving his all to hinder the bullfighters' advance.
Li Kang found no opportunity to speed up and strike.
The checkered team before him resembled an enraged, bloodshot bull.
Yes.
Or rather, a beast with considerable intelligence.
Above the Toulouse Stadium.
Echoed the Croatian team anthem.
"When the sun kisses his homeland."
"When the wild wind sweeps his oak trees."
"When heaven calls away his loved ones, his heart... still beats for Croatia!"
Spanish fans were dumbfounded.
Deep down, they couldn't help but feel a chill.
This is just a group stage match, not a knockout round.
Does Croatia want to strip Spain of a layer of skin?
They couldn't understand.
Yinniesita still hoped to talk to Li Kang about companions, village, bonds...
The Croatian players would find it the funniest joke.
They are children who survived in the fires of war.
They did not grow up under a complete youth training system like German, Spanish, French, or English players.
People in peaceful times cannot truly feel the cruelty of war.
It's okay.
A resilient soul can sometimes match the most perfect tactical system in the world.
Minute 88 of the match.
Modrić made a sudden return and acceleration, snatching the ball from under Piqué's feet.
La Masia's triangular possession system collapsed in an instant.
Toulouse Stadium.
Croatian fans erupted into hysterical shouts.
Having endured life-and-death hardships, nothing has defeated Modrić.
Unfortunately.
Football is a team sport.
Even if his personal speed and ball-touch precision have reached the extreme.
It's useless.
His exhausted teammates can no longer keep up with his pace.
Playing with one less man, there's insufficient movement and passing options in the front line.
As Li Kang, Saúl, Ramos, and others tracked back.
Modrić ultimately collapsed onto the grass.
His prized outside foot ultimately failed to break through the bullfighters' cage.
Finally.
The main referee blew the whistle signaling the end of the match.
Spain 3:1 Croatia.
Bosque let out a long sigh: "This group stage match felt more exhausting than a knockout game."
Miñano asked doubtfully: "Boss, isn't this an easy win? Most of our players haven't expended much energy, and Li's jersey... still looks as good as new."
End of Chapter
