Unconventional Center

Chapter 14: Because I Can Score

Adrian kicked the turf in frustration; the opposing defender was marking him too closely, and his shot just moments ago had been a bit of a stretch. “It’s okay, Adrian, there’ll be other chances,” Mo Ya sighed quietly to himself as he called out to him. “I know, Cesc. I’m counting on you in midfield—just leave the front line to me,” Adrian quickly assured him. While the players on the field were still lamenting the missed chance, Gresel’s face turned pale on the sidelines. The Ameyari players, who had been on the defensive the whole time, suddenly began pressing forward—even the defenders moved up near the midfield line, leaving Mo Ya and Adrian, who had just completed an attack, stranded behind the offside line. “Get back! Hurry back to defend!” Valencia’s players weren’t rookies; they reacted quickly, but after the goal kick was taken, Ameyari still managed to intercept the ball almost immediately. Ameyari’s captain, Machena, took possession and immediately sent a precise long pass to his left midfielder. The receiver adjusted slightly, then drove the ball straight toward the end line. After shaking off the mark of Valencia’s fullback Busquets, he delivered a long, lofted cross into the box. Everyone watched the penalty area with bated breath as a towering figure leaped high into the air, outjumping Antonio to powerfully head the ball. That was William Nathan—standing at 1. 93 meters tall, physically imposing, with exceptional leaping ability. While his footwork was a bit lacking, his heading skills were top-notch; a shot like this was as easy as eating for him. Cayo reacted quickly and made a timely save, but unfortunately, although he got a hand to the ball, he couldn’t prevent it from finding the back of the net. 1–0. The Mestalla Stadium, which had been buzzing with excitement just moments ago, suddenly fell much quieter, with only a small group of away fans leaping to their feet and cheering wildly. Is there anything more satisfying than celebrating a goal on the opponent’s home turf? “William Nathan’s header has changed the momentum of the game. It’s only the 23rd minute, and Ameyari has scored on their very first attack—Valencia is now on the back foot.” Ugo seemed determined to contradict Mikel today, saying, “That’s right, it’s only the 23rd minute—there’s still a chance.” Mikel didn’t argue with him but instead commented on the goal: “This is Ameyari’s most common attacking pattern this season—simple, direct long passes from midfield to the wings, followed by crosses into the box. It’s classic English style. Of course, this tactic requires a tall center forward who excels at heading, and William Nathan, whom Brady brought over from England, is the perfect fit. He’s already scored six headers this season.” ” The Meyari players rushed to the sideline, pinning William Nathan—who was as burly as a little bear—under them and cheering wildly. A win here would put them five points clear of Valencia, effectively eliminating most of the threat from behind. Gresel called Busquets over to the sideline and gave him instructions until play resumed. After taking the lead, Ameyari didn’t park the bus in their own half, but they played more cautiously, constantly battling Valencia in midfield, leaving Valencia’s lone striker, Adrian, with little to do in the opponent’s penalty area. Neither side created any clear-cut chances afterward. Gresel’s tactical adjustments had some effect, as Valencia’s wings were neutralized, but Valencia was also drawn into a midfield scramble. Just before halftime, Mo Ya was brought down by an opposing defensive midfielder just outside the box, earning Valencia a direct free kick. “It’s just to the right of the penalty area, about 25 meters from the goal. Now it’s time for Cesc to shine.” Gresel stood coolly on the sideline with his hands in his pockets, while Brady stood with his arms crossed, staring intently at Mo Ya as if trying to use his mind to knock the free kick away. It was now the final moments of stoppage time, and every Valencia player except goalkeeper Cayo had crowded forward, with players from both teams positioned in Ameyari’s half. Adrian and Lucio stood rooted in the penalty area, tightly marked by the opposing defenders, while the rest of the team spread out alongside the wall, ready to pounce on any rebound. As the referee’s whistle blew, Mo Ya quickly took a run-up, swung his leg back, and struck the ball. It was a superb shot—his signature “falling leaf” shot. This type of shot takes a very tricky angle and drops noticeably as it approaches the goal, making it nearly impossible for the goalkeeper to stop. “What a shot! It curved around the wall and was on target—oh, it was saved! The ball’s at Lucio’s feet—there’s still a chance.” Mo Ya waved his hand in frustration. He had thought it was a sure thing, but to his surprise, the opposing goalkeeper managed to make the save. Seeing that Lucio, who had the ball, was already surrounded, he hurried forward to support him. Lucio’s footwork was nowhere near as refined as Mo Ya’s, and he struggled to shield the ball. Spotting Mo Ya, he quickly passed it over—but the opposing defender was already prepared and kicked it away, intercepting the pass. The ball landed at Ameyari’s feet in midfield, and without even looking, he kicked it away. Gresel sensed something was wrong and quickly approached the fourth official, shouting, “Hey, what’s going on? The stoppage time is already over.” “Calm down, Mr. Marco. The game isn’t over until the referee blows the whistle.” “Nonsense! I want to know right now why his damn whistle didn’t blow. Give me a reasonable explanation, or I’ll file a complaint with the Football Association!” “Watch your tone, Coach Marco, or I won’t hesitate to send you to the stands to cool off.” In the brief moment those few words were exchanged, the situation on the field suddenly took a dramatic turn. A pass from Ameyari’s midfielder went high but not far, and William Nathan intercepted it, heading it to another forward, Eduardo. Brady was still playing the “tall and fast” combination from the last century, with Nathan handling the “tall” and Eduardo the “fast.” Compared to the tall and burly Nathan, Eduardo looked like a pocket-sized player; after receiving the ball, he took a light touch and surged into Valencia’s half. “Eduardo has the ball—there’s no one in front of him. They’re currently in their own half, so this play isn’t offside. Antonio and Busquets are sprinting back frantically, but it’s no use—Eduardo is just too fast. He should be competing in sprinting events instead of playing soccer.” Under the watchful eyes of the entire stadium, Eduardo raced unchallenged into the penalty area and, facing the onrushing Cayo, calmly slotted the ball into the far corner. 2–0. Gresel glanced at Eduardo, who had sprinted to the sideline to embrace Brady, then turned and walked into the locker room. No one knows what happened in Valencia’s locker room during halftime,In any case, once the second half began, the Valencia players seemed to go wild—they were aggressive in their tackling and sharp on the attack. But Ameyari had already settled into a solid defensive stance. Not only did Valencia fail to extend their lead, but at the 60-minute mark, they were caught off guard by an Ameyari counterattack. Had it not been for Cayo’s heroic save on Eduardo’s point-blank shot, the score would likely have become 3–0. Time slipped by quietly. Chu Yang, who had been sitting idly on the bench for nearly seventy minutes, was extremely frustrated. The team had already made two substitutions, but the head coach showed absolutely no intention of bringing him into the game, so he simply stood up and walked over to Gresel. “What’s up, Chu?” Heike Onnes asked, looking at Chu Yang as he stood up. “Nothing. Just want to discuss something with the boss.” “Um, I know how you feel, but…” “No, you don’t,” Chu Yang interrupted irritably. His mom had traveled all this way—just to watch a loss where her son didn’t even get to play? What kind of situation was this? “Coach.” Chu Yang walked to the sideline and stood beside Gresel. Gresel, who had been intently watching the action on the field, was startled. He turned to look at him, furrowing his brow. “What’s going on?” “I want to play,” Chu Yang said bluntly. “You want to play?” Gresel laughed in exasperation, pointing at the other players on the bench. “They want to play, too. Why should I bring you in?” “Because I can score.”