Unconventional Center

Chapter 37: Taking the Lead

The goal came shortly after the second half began. Mo Ya broke through in the attacking third, causing chaos in the opponent’s defense. Amid the scramble, he passed the ball to Chu Yang, who, with Yama on his back, played it out to the right flank. Garcia won the footrace against his marker and beat him to the ball, sending a cross into the box. Lucio, making a run from deep, didn’t let the ball touch the ground but unleashed a volley that flew straight into the top corner of the net, leaving Tooni with no chance to save it. Valencia took a 1-0 lead. The Rayo Vallecano players were caught off guard by conceding a goal so early in the match, while the Valencia fans took it in stride—perhaps because they’d grown accustomed to winning recently. Gressel didn’t seem particularly excited; he was deep in thought about the goal he’d just scored. It would be an exaggeration to say that eight or nine out of ten of Valencia’s goals this season were related to Mo Ya, but six or seven out of ten certainly were. Their dependence on Mo Ya had reached an outrageous level, and now, far from diminishing, that dependence was actually intensifying with Chu Yang’s arrival. Mo Ya and Chu Yang have been virtually the only offensive solutions Valencia has had in its last three games. If they weren’t there, or if one of them went scoreless, how would Valencia score goals? Chu Yang relies heavily on Mo Ya’s passes, a necessity dictated by his inability to hold the ball, his lack of speed, and his weakness in the air. His inability to hold the ball and lack of speed mean he cannot take on defenders one-on-one, while his weak heading ability means he is almost incapable of creating threats from high crosses delivered from the wings. Under these circumstances, passes from Mo Ya behind him are practically his only guarantee of scoring, aside from free kicks. Mo Ya, in turn, relies heavily on Chu Yang as well. His own shooting touch and technique are poor, while Chu Yang’s keen instincts and excellent finishing skills are the perfect complement. As he himself has said, he and Chu Yang are the best partners—and that’s no joke. However, even the best partnership cannot guarantee that both players will remain healthy or in Athletic form at the same time. As soon as one of them gets injured or falls out of Athletic form, the team’s offense immediately grinds to a halt. How to maintain the team’s offensive firepower when Mo Ya or Chu Yang is absent was a problem Gressel had been pondering even before this match. If Chu Yang were to miss the game, it wouldn’t be too much of a problem—at worst, they’d revert to how they played before Chu Yang joined the team. With Adrian replacing Chu Yang, the team would still possess solid offensive capabilities. What really gave him a headache was: what if Mo Ya were absent? How could Chu Yang remain a threat? The goal just scored gave him an idea. Garcia provided the assist, and Lucio scored the goal; Chu Yang merely acted as a link in the play and wasn’t directly involved in the goal itself. In the eyes of the fans, Chu Yang seemed virtually dispensable during the play—any other player could have achieved the same result. But in Gressel’s eyes, it was a different story. Chu Yang hadn’t actually participated in the goal, but it was precisely because of his presence that the defenders’ attention and defensive focus were directed at him. Moreover, it was because he drew their attention that Lucio was able to get a shot off. “Onnes, maybe we should run through our backup tactics,” Greessel said to Heike as he walked back to the bench instead of remaining on the sideline. “What’s up, Marco? Do you have any ideas?” As the assistant coach and Gressel’s right-hand man, Heike naturally understood Gressel’s concerns all too well. “Did you see the role Chu played in that goal just now?” Heike was quick to catch on and immediately understood what he meant. “You mean a target man?” “Exactly,” said Greseldau. “Chu isn’t particularly tall, and his leaping ability and heading aren’t outstanding, so none of us had ever considered using him as a target man. But we’ve all overlooked his presence in the box, as well as his strength and physicality. We could definitely try a two-striker formation when the game is deadlocked or when Cesc is out—one as the target man and the other as the main striker.” “That’s definitely an option. With Chu’s abilities, he can handle any of those roles—whether it’s drawing the defense as a target man, setting up teammates, or serving as the main striker.” Adrian didn’t hear their conversation; otherwise, he would have been over the moon. If the team played with two strikers, the other spot would naturally go to him. Compared to Chu Yang, whose strengths are distinct, Adrian’s skills are well-rounded. Players like him, when at their best, are the epitome of versatility, but when they’re mediocre, they’re nothing more than background players. Adrian was, of course, the latter—jack-of-all-trades but master of none. He was just a tad better than Chu Yang in terms of speed, ball control, heading, and assists, but his shooting technique, positioning, free kicks, and creativity in front of goal fell far short of Chu Yang’s. The trailing Rayo Vallecano players, unlike Gresel, had no time to dwell on such thoughts. They mounted a fierce counterattack, launching a relentless offensive that forced Valencia to drop back into a defensive formation—even Lucio, the hero of the opening goal, retreated to the midfield to help out on defense. But after a prolonged attack without a breakthrough, frustration inevitably set in—and that frustration came at a price. Cayo once again palmed away a half-hearted header from Rayo Vallecano, then lofted the ball toward Leta. However, he put a bit too much power behind the pass, sending the ball too high, so Leta had no choice but to leap high into the air and head it forward. Mo Ya controlled the ball with the outside of his foot near the center circle, then used a deft feint to dribble past a defender. The Rayo Vallecano players, still in Valencia’s half, frantically chased back, while their teammates in their own half practically formed a human wall between Mo Ya and Chu Yang. They did everything in their power to cut off the connection between Mo Ya and Chu Yang whenever he had the ball—this was something the coach had repeatedly emphasized. They executed this quite well, but they failed to notice that Banderas—who had been operating on the left wing—had quietly moved into the center. After passing the ball to Banderas, Mo Ya quickly sprinted to the left, received the return pass, and—before the opposing defenders could close in—sped down the wing toward the goal line. The opposing right back rushed out to meet him and, without a moment’s hesitation, made a fierce sliding tackle. His determination to stop Mo Ya—even at the cost of a card—drew a wave of boos from the stands. Mo Ya calmly passed the ball back to Banderas and continued running forward. Just as he rounded the fullback who had slid across the grass to challenge him, Banderas’s pass arrived. Without even looking, Mo Ya struck the ball with a long pass. “A pass from Cesc. Chu is there, but Yama is blocking him.” Chu Yang already had half a foot inside the penalty area; upon seeing Mo Ya’s pass, he immediately turned to face the ball, but Yama had beaten him to the spot and was ready to clear it at any moment. Just as all the Rayo Vallecano fans thought Valencia would come away empty-handed, a scene unfolded that made their teeth grind and their stomachs churn.