Unconventional Center

Chapter 42: Whimsy Is the Privilege of a Genius

The first half ended 1–0, and the teams switched sides for the second half. Chu Yang, buoyed by his goal, grew even more excited and repeatedly threatened the opponent’s goal. Unfortunately, it seemed his luck had been exhausted by that first goal, and his shots still failed to find the back of the net. Of course, Zaragoza wasn’t going to sit back and wait for defeat; they launched a fierce counterattack, and Valencia was pinned back in their own half for a while. Fortunately, Zaragoza’s luck wasn’t much better—their best chance saw their forward hit the post. Then it was Valencia’s time to shine. Their morale was high, and they dominated the game completely: Mo Ya’s playmaking, Banderas’ dribbling, Garcia’s defense, Lucio’s relentless running… Everyone performed flawlessly, but the goals just wouldn’t come. Thanks to his teammates’ outstanding play, Chu Yang found himself with more and more opportunities. He became the busiest player on the field, and he didn’t hold back in showcasing his full repertoire of shooting techniques to the crowd: a kung fu-style “Scorpion” kick, Earth-Shattering long-range shots, free kicks with dramatic arcs, one-on-one chances after beating the offside trap, and surprise shots following ghostly runs… The moves were varied and the form was beautiful, but unfortunately, the goal continued to deny him time and again. Yet instead of booing, the home crowd erupted in applause every time he touched the ball. This was undoubtedly a treatment that would make any striker in the world jealous—and a clear sign that the team’s fans had been completely won over. What many players spend half their lives striving to achieve on the soccer field, Chu Yang accomplished in just five matches. Of course, the players have to step up, but the fans have to show their support, too. Valencia’s fans are exactly the kind who really support their players. In an interview with *Green Field Magnifier*, there was a description of Valencia’s fans that left a deep impression on Chu Yang. They are the most passionate fans, remaining loyal to the very end to a team that hasn’t been promoted in a decade; they are also the most level-headed fans, cheering on a player who scores an own goal; they are the most emotional fans, treating you like a god for a spectacular goal that seals the victory; and they are also the most rational fans, giving their own player the middle finger for a malicious foul. This was a level of perfection that not even the most beautiful dreams of any soccer player could imagine—something that probably only exists in online novels, and even third-rate movies wouldn’t dare to portray. Such a fan base is unimaginable to someone like Chu Yang, who has been called a “yellow-skinned monkey” to his face by his own fans. That’s why he was brimming with motivation; his legs, which had felt as heavy as lead by the 70th minute, suddenly felt a bit lighter. Unfortunately, while the fans moved him, they couldn’t move the goal. By the 75th minute, when the fourth official raised the substitution board, he still hadn’t managed to find the back of the net against Zaragoza again. Chu Yang walked to the sideline with a look of regret, and the home fans rose to their feet in unison, applauding him. Chu Yang raised his hands in return, clapping to thank the fans in the stands. The Zaragoza players, thinking he was deliberately stalling for time, walked over to escort him off the field. To be honest, although Chu Yang had squandered many chances, as long as he was on the field, the Zaragoza defenders felt a sense of unease; the moment he left the field, they felt a huge weight lifted off their shoulders. “Chu was substituted for by Adrian, and the fans gave him a warm round of applause—he deserved it. He’d only played six games for Valencia—well,to be precise, five matches, since he sat on the bench for the entire game for the first time. He’s already scored ten goals, making him the team’s top scorer and a strong contender for the league’s top scorer title this season. Although his chances of winning the top scorer award are slim, this is already an incredible achievement for a player who joined mid-season. And with sixteen rounds left in the league, anything can happen, right?” “Good job, Chu Yang,” Gresel patted Chu Yang on the shoulder. “But I’d like you to pay more attention to your teammates’ positions. I understand a forward’s hunger to score, but sometimes a pass can help the team more than a shot. Do you understand what I mean?” “I understand, Coach.” “All right, go get some rest now,” Gresel patted his shoulder again. “Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day, boy from China. You really should find yourself a girlfriend.” “Oh, you should say ‘Happy Chinese New Year.’ Besides, our Valentine’s Day is Qixi, not February 14th.” “All right, all right—strange Chinese customs. Well then, Happy Spring Festival, Chu. Spring Festival—is that how you say it?” Gresel was from the Netherlands, and the Spanish term for “Spring Festival” was unfamiliar to him. “Yes, your pronunciation is spot-on. You’re a real linguistic genius, Mr. Marco. If you don’t want to be a coach, you should consider becoming a translator—you’d definitely be a success.” The Zaragoza coach glanced over, his eyes brimming with murderous intent. If he wasn’t mistaken, those two were actually chatting right there? They were in the middle of a game, after all, and their team was leading by only one goal—they could be tied at any moment. Who gave them the nerve? Of course, it wasn’t Liang Jingru who gave them that courage—it was the players on the field. The match had turned into a back-and-forth battle in Zaragoza’s half. The Valencia players couldn’t even find a reason to feel nervous, but unfortunately, they couldn’t convert their dominance into goals—even a hard-earned open-net chance was blasted into the stands by Mo Ya. Gresel was furious on the sidelines and substituted Mo Ya out in the 80th minute. The fans on the sidelines rewarded him with applause, as if he’d just successfully confessed his love on Valentine’s Day. Mo Ya walked over to Chu Yang and plopped down beside him. “Chu, your touch was really off today.” “And who was it who just blasted that open goal right into the stands?” “That’s not the same thing—I’m not a center forward; scoring isn’t my main job.” “Alright, I apologize. My luck really was a bit off today.” “For the sake of that free kick, let the other shots go wide. Being a bit reckless is a genius’s privilege, isn’t it?” The two chatted idly as the match drew to a close. Just before the final whistle, Banderas sent a long pass from near the left touchline, and Adrian outjumped the defenders in the box to head the ball into the net, finally ending his scoring drought and sealing the victory. “The game’s over. Congratulations to Valencia—they’ve secured another victory. This is their eighth straight win, and they’re just three games away from the club’s winning streak record. Maybe our boys will make history. Oh, the other game has ended too—two pieces of good news: Numancia lost, and Caliado was held to a last-minute draw. Numancia remains at the top of the table, but they’re only one point ahead of second-place Caliado and two points ahead of Valencia—that’s by no means an insurmountable gap. Thanks to Leonesa; even though Chu’s free kick made them a laughingstock, they defeated the powerful Numancia and proved themselves.”