The first tumor in football

Chapter 204 Penalty!

After getting rid of Suarez, Song Wen was like a rocket soaring into the sky. He was in the midfield and had already started a high-speed charge.

But at the same time, Barcelona's defense line instantly collapsed, and Rakitic and Iniesta rushed towards Song Wen at the first moment.

Further behind, Busquets directly blocked Song Wen's route.

The snow at Camp Nou was stirred up into white waves by his studded shoes, and Song Wen's dribbling trajectory plowed four deep grooves on the grass.

Rakitic and Iniesta were like two red and blue scalpels cutting across each other, the Croatian blocked the left, and the Spanish master blocked the right rib - this was the "scissors strangulation" tactic that Barcelona had practiced hundreds of times.

"Shut the door!" Rakitic roared in Catalan, and Iniesta's right foot had blocked Song Wen's path to change direction.

The snow mist raised by the two players' studs formed a fan-shaped barrier in the air, and the slow-motion camera in the live broadcast room showed that their attack angle was accurate to the millimeter level.

Fan Zhiyi smashed his thermos cup heavily on the tactical screen: "Damn it! This is a fucking leg-breaking package!"

At the critical moment, Song Wen suddenly pulled the ball back half a meter with his left foot and jumped into the air 0.3 seconds before the two people surrounded him.

His right leg drew a strange arc in the air, and the studs covered with snow passed by Iniesta's ear. The moment he landed, he used the outside of his right foot to push the ball into the gap behind the two people.

"Bengbu Spin!" Zhan Jun exclaimed as the snow exploded, "It's the heavenly version of the Bengbu Spin."

"Li Yi taught the whole of Asia how to be a good person," Fan Zhiyi's voice suddenly choked up, "Now he sits in a wheelchair and watches Song Wen play football."

The live broadcast room burst into tears instantly:
【Yisi does not hang】

[Bengbu roundabout yyds! Is Li Yi watching?]
[Song Wen's moves are more standard than Li Yi's!]
[Family members shed tears, if only Li Yi hadn’t been injured]
[Song Wen is proven to have stolen Li Yi's skills! I suggest checking the surveillance camera at Li Yi's home!]
Busquets pounced on the field like a hyena smelling blood. The yellow card warning made him dare not play dirty again. He could only roar and command the defense: "Umtiti! Close the door!"

The French center back's spiked shoes slipped on the snow, and he almost lost his balance when he came face to face with Song Wen, who lowered his shoulders.

Umtiti hastily opened his arms to hug Song Wen. As the two men tangled and fell into the snow, the referee's whistle pierced the night sky.

"Tactical foul! Yellow card!" Zhan Jun slammed the table and said, "Umtiti should be given a yellow card for this action."

The south stand of Camp Nou erupted in cheers of survival.

"Did you buy this referee?" Fan Zhiyi's roar made the microphone buzz. "When will the debt for the 2018 Champions League semi-final be repaid?"

Song Wen wiped the snow water off his face at the free kick spot. The penalty spot 38 meters away was blocked by the Barcelona players like an iron wall.

Ter Stegen slapped the ice off his gloves and stepped into two deep pits in the snow in front of the goal line.

"Elevator ball! It must be an elevator ball!" Zhan Jun called up the data panel, "Song Wen's elevator ball success rate this season is 67%, but at such a long distance..."

The ball rose up from the ground in the wind and snow, and its initial trajectory was obviously biased to the right.

Busquets sneered, but his pupils suddenly shrank in the next second - the football suddenly fell after passing over the wall of people, and the snow particles carried by it formed a tornado-like vortex in the air!
The muscular lines of Ter Stegen when he was in the air looked like ancient Greek sculptures in slow motion. With his body fully stretched to the limit, he just used his fingertips to poke the ball over the crossbar.

"Amazing save! Save of the century!" The coffee cup in the Spanish commentary booth fell on the tactical board. "This ball violates aerodynamics! The G value of the ball when it fell reached . "

Valverde slumped in the coaching booth, cold sweat dripping from the edge of the tactics board he was clutching.

The comments in the live broadcast room were also boiling.

[Is Ter Stegen cheating? ]
[Even Buffon couldn't save Song Wen's ball!]
[It is recommended to test Barcelona goalkeeper gloves with urine! ]
[Messi's eyes are so scary, he wants to eat people]
[Suarez's back teeth must have been broken]
[Barcelona players are like chicken blood today]
In the corner area, Song Wen could clearly see Messi's trembling calf muscles twenty meters away - the king of Camp Nou was burning up his last reserves of physical energy.

"Twenty minutes left," Simeone's roar mixed with snow particles hitting the field, "They can't hold on any longer!"

Busquets staggered back to defense, holding his cramped abdomen, and Rakitic's jersey could be wrung out of half a liter of sweat.

"They are fighting for Messi," Zhan Jun pulled up the heart rate monitoring chart, "The average heart rate of the Barcelona team is 22 beats per minute higher than usual. Ter Stegen's heart rate instantly reached 192 when he saved the ball!"

The snow curtain at Camp Nou was torn apart by the strong wind caused by the corner kick, and the snow particles splashed by Song Wen during his run-up reflected diamond-like light under the spotlight.

The football fell towards the small penalty area with a strange double arc, and the dull sound of Godin and Pique colliding in the air was like the collision of two icebergs.

"Back point!" Ter Stegen's roar pierced through the wind and snow.

The German goalkeeper accurately predicted the landing point while moving, and stretched his body into a perfect reverse arch shape when in the air - this was the muscle memory he had developed by repeatedly watching Song Wen's 37 corner kick videos before the game.

Costa's header over Umtiti was lifted into the sky with one hand, and the snowflakes caused by the rotation of the ball formed a miniature tornado in front of the goal line.

Busquets has already started.

The Barcelona metronome raised three fingers the moment the ball flew out of the baseline, and Catalan instructions mixed with white mist gushed out: "Counterattack plan No. 3!" The entire Barcelona central axis began to mesh like precision gears. Rakitic retreated to receive the goalkeeper's hand-thrown ball, Iniesta cut diagonally into the gap on the right rib, and Messi cut towards the junction of Atletico's two central defenders like a ghost.

"Seven-second rule!" Valverde ripped off his tie on the sidelines.

The counterattack tactics formulated by the Barcelona coaching staff before the game were perfectly demonstrated at this time - from the goalkeeper launching the attack to the shot being made, it must be completed within seven seconds.

Rakitic unloaded the ball with the outside of his foot and turned in one go. The Croatian midfielder's seemingly random leg swing was actually a straight pass that was made with his shin, precisely measuring the resistance of the snow.

The football plowed a serpentine trajectory on the grass and accurately found Messi who was retreating to receive the ball.

The Argentine king completed a 270-degree turn the instant he received the ball. Before the three-man Atletico Madrid team closed their circle, his left foot had already delivered a surgical-like overhead pass.

Suarez suddenly started like a shark that smelled blood, and the snow at Camp Nou exploded into fan-shaped white waves under his studs.

"Offside!" The moment Godin raised his hand, the linesman's flag was firmly placed against the side of his leg.

The Uruguayan defender's pupils suddenly shrank, and Oblak's figure abandoning the goal cast a huge shadow on his retina.

Suarez's signature pendulum feint was doubly effective on the snow, and the Atletico goalkeeper fell to the ground like a frozen penguin.

Empty door!

Song Wen, who was thirty meters away, clearly saw Suarez's bared white teeth, and time seemed to be slowed down.

At the moment when the Uruguayan striker pushed the ball, a red and white figure cut in from outside the camera like a cannonball - Godin's flying tackle stirred up a sky full of snow and mist, and the dull sound of the football hitting the shin guards made 90,000 people hold their breath at the same time.

"Goal line ballet!" Zhan Jun's roar blew up the live broadcast room, "Godin blocked the sure goal with his injured right knee! The soul of Atletico Madrid danced the bloodiest waltz on the goal line!"

The broadcast camera captured breathtaking details: the football was deflected by Godin's knee half a meter before the goal line, and it spun and brushed the top edge of the crossbar.

Oblak knelt in the snow and pounded the ground frantically. Blood seeped out from the gaps in Godin's shin guards, forming a dazzling red on the white snow.

"Send!" Simeone's roar awakened the dazed Atletico players.

Oblak staggered out of the penalty area, throwing the ball across half the court with his blood-stained gloves. The moment Song Wen stopped the ball with his chest in the center circle, Barcelona's passing and control machine had a fatal jam - Busquets, who was supposed to be marking, was bent over and panting, and the snow water soaked his jersey along the groove of his spine.

"Vacuum zone!" Fan Zhiyi smashed his thermos cup on the tactical screen, "Barcelona's high defense line is too far forward!"

Song Wen's leg swinging movement made time freeze.

The football drew a trajectory in the air that violated the laws of physics - the initial parabola was as high as 15 meters, but it suddenly fell down during the flight due to the accumulation of snow.

Costa tore through the defense like a beast that smelled blood, and Barcelona's offside tactics turned into a fatal mistake in the snow.

"The offside counterattack was successful!" Zhan Jun stared at the screen nervously, "Costa was 0.3 meters away from the last defender when he started, and the slow-motion line showed that it was effective!"

The image of Ter Stegen leaving the goal rapidly enlarged in Costa's pupils.

This time the Spanish striker chose the simplest way to deal with it - toe shot!
The moment the football passed through the goalkeeper's crotch, the snow curtain at Camp Nou seemed to be muted, until the ripples of the ball hitting the net broke the silence.

“Goooooal!!!”

Simeone knelt and slid to the sidelines, and Costa rushed towards the corner flagpole. The snow was dyed into blood mist by the red and white storm he stirred up.

Snow was still falling, but the inferno at Camp Nou had been extinguished. The scarlet 4-2 on the electronic scoreboard seemed to reflect the cracks of the collapse of the Catalan football empire.

"The ball went in!!"

In the Douyin live broadcast room, Fan Zhiyi raised his arms and shouted!

"The game time is 80 minutes. With an assist from Song Wen and a goal from Diego Costa, the score has changed to 4-2! Now there are only more than ten minutes left until the end of the game. Atletico Madrid is currently leading by two goals. There is not much time left for Barcelona!!"

There was also jubilation in the comments section of the live broadcast room.

【666666! 】

[Fuck, this counterattack rhythm is so fucking exciting! ]

[I thought Barcelona was going to equalize, but I looked down at my phone and saw Atletico Madrid scored a goal the next second! ]

[Oh no, this kid really got it right? ]

[Barcelona is also going to fall, so only Real Madrid is left. ]

【Real Madrid has been suppressed by Barcelona in the league this season. 】

[It can be seen that Atletico Madrid really tried hard today. The ball was scored, but Godin was still lying in front of the goal and couldn't get up. ]

[How much is Godin's save worth? ]

Suarez's buck teeth crushed the snow, and the smell of blood in his throat mixed with the rusty smell of the Nou Camp grass.

He pulled up Messi, who was slumped in the snow, and dug his fingertips into the Argentine's wet shoulder blades: "Leo, your eyes look more like a dead person than in the 2014 World Cup final."

Busquets knelt in the center circle and scraped the frozen soil under the grass with his fingernails. Five return sprints made his heart rate soar to 196.

As Rakitic put the ball on the service point, the Croatian found that his calf muscle was cramping.

Iniesta's instep pass tore through the snow, and the ball plowed a precise serpentine trajectory on the grass.

The moment Messi received the ball, he suddenly used his right heel to knock the ball to the left rear. This unreasonable change of direction caused Koke's center of gravity to break like a puppet with its strings cut.

As the Argentine broke into the penalty area, Godin's bloody shin pads were emitting a pungent smell of iodine from the direction of the ambulance.

"Tactic number three!" Suarez used his front teeth to tear off the bandage wrapped around his wrist.

Alba's cross-field pass drew a strange falling leaf arc in the air. The moment Oblak attacked, Messi's supporting foot dug a ten-centimeter-deep dent in the snow - his left knee meniscus made a teeth-grinding friction sound at this moment.

The football flew towards the upper right corner of the goal like a cannonball, but hit Savage's subconsciously raised arm in the middle of its flight trajectory.

The brachioradialis muscle of the Atletico Madrid center back bulged with veins the moment he retracted his hand, and his entire right arm was pressed against his ribs to form a standard defensive posture.

Antonio's whistle was half a beat slower than the noise from the south stand of Camp Nou.

The referee held the headset with his left hand to listen to the advice of the video referee, but his right hand was already reaching towards the penalty spot.

Fan Zhiyi widened his eyes, unable to believe what he saw.

"Is this a fucking penalty?!!"

Messi slumped in the edge of the penalty area and desperately swallowed energy gel. The frequency of the trembling of his Adam's apple exposed his blood sugar level that was about to collapse.

"This is fucking robbery!" Godin rushed back to the sidelines with an IV stand hanging on him, his blood-stained bandages fluttering in the cold wind.

Song Wen walked straight towards the referee, and drew a spiral gesture on his temple with his index finger: "Do you need me to help you make an appointment with an ophthalmologist? Is your retina marinated with red and blue pigments?"

Messi used a rare back-foot move when passing the ball. The football bounced slightly three times on the penalty spot, and the snow made a crisp sound like crushing glass under his studs.

The noise at Camp Nou stopped abruptly the moment Messi took a run-up, and the vacuum environment created by 90,000 people holding their breath made the snowflakes hover in the air.

Oblak gambled his life by diving to the left, but Messi's shot hit the right post and went into the net.

Barcelona's No. 10 didn't even celebrate. He bent over and vomited out energy gel mixture, which steamed up into white mist on the snow.

"Son of a bitch!" The thermos cup kicked away by Simeone hit the fourth official's knee, and the hot water left a urine-shaped stain on the opponent's trousers.

The broadcast camera swept across the VIP seats, and Neymar was filming Son Heung-min's red face with his mobile phone. The Korean pointed at Grealish, whose eyes were black and blue, and yelled, "You rely on the referee!" "Calm down, friend," the Brazilian shook a scarf with Messi's signature, "The ball is round, and so is the referee."

Zhan Jun adjusted his glasses with a cold expression.

"In the 85th minute of the match, Barcelona scored a penalty kick to narrow the gap to 3-4. Due to Godin's injury, the injury time of this match should not be too short. Barcelona still has a chance."

Fan Zhiyi's fist pounded the table, making a loud bang.

He hated himself for not being on the field.

Otherwise, his sneakers would have been stuck in the referee's head!

(End of this chapter)