Unconventional Center

Chapter 23: Passing Without Looking

Chu Yang’s entrance not only drew cheers from the Valencia fans in the stadium but also sent a wave of excitement through countless Valencians watching on TV, causing beer sales in countless bars to skyrocket instantly. Adrian’s face was grim, his eyes filled with resentment and helplessness. Gresel couldn’t help but let out a wry smile. He could imagine that if Chu Yang scored in this match and he still benched him for the next one, the Valencia Club fans would surely tear him to pieces. Gresel was a soccer coach—not one for political maneuvering—but that didn’t mean he was oblivious to the ways of the world. Chu Yang’s signing had been made possible by Xiao Luo, who’d pushed through the deal against all odds. Although Xiao Luo hadn’t interfered in specific on-field matters nor issued any orders to make Chu Yang the team’s core or a starter, if Gresel couldn’t even grasp this much, he might as well pack his bags and leave tomorrow. “A pass from Cesc. The Chinese No. 9 striker receives the ball. That looks like an offside, but the linesman isn’t signaling anything. No. 9 is fast—well, not that he’s particularly fast, but our defenders are too slow, or rather, they’re too tired compared to No. 9. Oh,Goal! 2–1. It’s now the 68th minute of the match. Just eight minutes after coming on, the Chinese player has helped Valencia take the lead with a controversial goal…” The commentator’s voice sounded reluctant. These guys were, after all, home-team supporters; it was their job to take jabs at the visiting team and sugarcoat things for the home side. But the same goal, as described by Mr. Milke, the commentator on Valencia Sports Channel, went like this: “This was a brilliant offside trap break. The referee has a keen eye, and Chu demonstrated excellent instincts. As the replay shows, Chu Yang had already started his run almost the moment Cesc made the pass. it was as if he could predict the future—knowing exactly when the ball would arrive and where it would go. Everything was perfectly timed. If he’d started a split second earlier, he’d have been offside; if he’d been a split second later, he’d have gotten tangled up with the defenders. This is the most fundamental and crucial quality of a striker—and the clearest dividing line between an ordinary striker and an exceptional one.” On the field, the referee is the final authority. After all, not even Chu Yang himself knew whether he was offside or not—if the referee says it’s good, it’s good. Ignoring the Wesken players who were swarming the referee, shouting “offside,” Chu Yang sprinted to the corner flag. Just as everyone thought he was going to kick the flag hard like Mo Ya had, he instead placed one hand on his hip, gripped the top of the corner flag with the other, and saluted the Valencia fans in the stands. The Valusia fans grew even more excited, while the boos from the Wesken supporters grew louder. Chu Yang gave the corner flag a hard yank with his hand, sending it crashing to the ground before it bounced back up instantly. Mo Ya leaped up and straddled Chu Yang, who had no choice but to brace himself before flinging him off, shouting, “Get lost, Cesc, you damn gay old man.” “Hahaha, man, you’re awesome. I’m declaring my love for you. From now on, we’re Valencia’s golden duo, a super team—just like Real Madrid’s Fang Dan and Lozé.” “No, no, no, buddy. You’ll never be Loze, and my achievements won’t stop at Fang Dan.” Unlike the first-generation Galactic Warships of his past life—who were strong in attack but weak in defense, with a fragmented squad—Real Madrid in this world, though also in a similar era of five superstar “Emperors,” possessed an unquestionable super-core and absolute leader: the Argentine Diego Loze. He was hailed as the last classical attacking midfielder in world soccer, yet he could cover the entire field like a modern-day free-roaming forward—capable of both dribbling and passing, playing at both a fast and slow pace. With his magical feet, he could unleash thunderous shots or play delicate passes with the finesse of a violinist; he was the very epitome of the perfect midfielder. If Chu Yang had to describe him, he could only say that the guy was a fusion of Gerrard and Zidane. “Chu, saying that really hurts my feelings.” “You’ve got plenty more to be upset about,” Chu Yang said to Mo Ya while accepting his teammates’ congratulations. “Because I’m going to score another one. Just like I said, no matter how many you score, I’ll score twice as many.” “No, no, no, dear Chu, your math really isn’t that great. You’ve forgotten—I’ve already scored two goals. To live up to your big talk, you’ll have to score at least three more.” “Do own goals count as goals? Have some self-respect, will you?” “Why not?” “Of course not.” “They do!” “They don’t!” “Count it my ass!” The match resumed amid the banter between the two best buddies. Having fallen behind, Wesken was naturally no longer focused solely on defense and poured a great deal of energy into attacking. Valencia, down a man, struggled to cope at first, but after adjusting to their opponents’ early surge, they quickly turned the tide—after all, the gap in overall strength was evident. In the 80th minute, Mo Ya was dribbling up the field again, leaving Wesken both frustrated and helpless. With a playmaker capable of slipping the ball into the box at any moment and a striker who appeared and disappeared like a ghost inside the box, Valencia’s attacking combination truly put the defenders’ skills to the test. Mo Ya was running on fumes and, naturally, couldn’t afford to disrupt Wesken’s entire back line before passing to Chu Yang. Under tight marking from two defenders, he played the ball out to the right flank, where right winger Garcia—who had been largely invisible throughout the match—calmly controlled it and quickly crossed it into the box, where Chu Yang beat the defenders to the ball. “Chu Yang has the ball. He’s very close to the goal, but he doesn’t have room to shoot—there are defenders all around him. We know that dribbling past defenders isn’t Chu’s strong suit. What will he do?” He can’t shoot, he can’t dribble past them—of course, his only option is to pass. Chu Yang looked up at Banderas, who was making a run from the left to receive the pass. The defenders’ attention instantly shifted to this Valencia left midfielder, who possessed both speed and good ball control—Valencia’s first goal had come from his indirect assist. “Mark that guy!” Just as Wesken’s defenders turned their attention to Banderas, Chu Yang flicked his ankle lightly, and the ball flew swiftly from his feet—though in a direction completely different from where his eyes were looking. “Chu has passed it—a brilliant pass. He looked up at Banderas but played the ball to Cesc. It reminds us of his first goal for Valencia. Deceiving the opponent with his eyes—he’s done it again,” Milk’s voice rang out at just the right moment. After receiving Chu Yang’s pass, Mo Ya didn’t hesitate; he immediately played the ball forward to Chu Yang. Sure enough, Chu Yang had already shaken off his marker and reached the ball; with a gentle nudge, the ball rolled into the net as the goalkeeper looked on in despair. In the 83rd minute, Chu Yang scored his second goal of the match, giving Valencia a 3–1 lead and effectively sealing the victory.