When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 139 If I were to transmigrate, I would keep transmigrating.
Juninho sat on the sofa in the Lens Hotel, his fingers gripping the remote control tightly.

The TV was showing Monaco's wild celebrations after winning the title eight rounds early. When the camera panned to Roy, his brows furrowed involuntarily.

"This boy"

He muttered to himself.

On the screen, Roy is being tossed high into the air by his teammates, his young face shining brightly under the spotlight.

The commentator's excited voice boomed from the speakers: "Roy's performance this season has been nothing short of perfect!"

Juninho suddenly stood up and turned off the TV.

He walked to the window and wearily rubbed his temples.

Outside the window, the outline of the stadium could still be vaguely seen in the darkness of Lens. He recalled the chants of "Le Guen, sack him!" that echoed from the stands a few hours earlier when the final whistle blew.

The angry Lyon fans stood in the cold wind for a full ten minutes, holding up banners and refusing to leave.

Last week's 0-2 defeat in Porto practically sealed the end of their Champions League campaign.

Just last season, Lyon was able to put up a tough fight against Monaco, but this season, two crushing defeats in direct confrontations have completely dashed their hopes of winning the title.

Now they can't even beat Lens, who are in the relegation zone, so the fans' disappointment is understandable.

A commotion suddenly broke out downstairs.

Several fans wearing Lyon jerseys were loitering outside the hotel, one of whom was holding a sign that read "Le Guen, sack him" which was particularly glaring under the streetlights.

Juninho drew the curtains, but the angry shouts still came through the glass.

"This is terrible," he muttered to himself, then turned and collapsed heavily onto the bed.

The television screen had long since been turned off, but the images of Monaco's victory and the fans' protests lingered in his mind.

在原位面，里昂在2001-2002、2002-2003和2003-2004赛季虽然完成了三连冠，但每个冠军都赢得磕磕绊绊，更多是靠竞争对手在冲刺阶段掉链子。

The 2003-04 season was a particularly typical example. Despite the departure of their key defensive midfielder Max to La Liga and the season-ending injury to their top scorer Nonda, Monaco managed to lead the league for most of the time with a depleted squad.

It wasn't until the Champions League semi-final, when they were too exhausted, that Lyon overtook them in the final moments.

Monaco's title win eight rounds early this season truly showcased their dominant performance.

On the training field, Roy placed the fifth ball 25 meters away.

Close your eyes, and familiar template data appears in your mind—

Host: Roy

Birthday: October 6, 1984

Height/Weight: 184cm/78kg
He has grown taller and gained some weight during this period due to his muscle-building plan.
Dominant foot: Right foot
Registered position: Left winger
[Offensive awareness: 91; Ball control: 86; Dribbling: 89; Ball protection: 83]

Ground passing: 79; Aerial passing: 75; Shooting: 90; Heading: 65

【定位球：79（97）；弧线球：76（95）；速度：97；爆发：96】

[Footwork Strength: 79; Jump: 80; Strength Combat: 72; Balance: 88]

[Stamina: 78; Defensive Awareness: 62; Steals: 52]

Overall rating: 90 (91)

He took three steps back and took a deep breath.

Since acquiring that mysterious "talent," he has been practicing free kicks first thing today.

"Again!" he shouted to the second team's goalkeeper, Silva.

Run-up, swing your leg, and flick your ankle slightly at the moment of contact with the ball.

The ball traced an arc, but just before clearing the wall, it went slightly too high and ultimately grazed the crossbar before flying out of bounds.

"It's much better than yesterday."

The assistant coach was taking notes on the sidelines, saying, "But the arc isn't perfect yet."

Roy wiped the sweat from his forehead.

He clearly felt that his way of playing football had changed—his touch on the ball was more precise, and his power was smoother, but he was still far from reaching the level of Juninho that he remembered, where he could play as he pleased.

"Take a break?" The young teaching assistant handed over a water bottle.

Roy shook his head and placed the ball again.

This time, he deliberately imitated Juninho's signature stance, with his left foot slightly back.

The ball arced beautifully after leaving the goalkeeper's foot, but was saved by the goalkeeper at the last moment.

"What the hell!"

I felt it was right, but the result was...
“That’s great,” the assistant coach said, patting him on the shoulder. “Last week you were lucky to score two out of ten of those shots, but today you’ve made three threatening shots out of five.”

Roy looked at his right foot and gently moved his ankle.

Indeed, while he can't yet achieve Juninho's pinpoint accuracy, his free-kick skills are far superior to what they used to be.

"Ten more."

He said firmly, "Place the sixth ball properly."

This time, he didn't deliberately imitate, but instead ran in the way that was most comfortable for him.

The ball traced a not-so-perfect but deadly arc, bypassing the wall of players and nestling into the net.

Applause erupted from the sidelines.

Roy finally smiled, but quickly suppressed it again.

He knew that he still had a long way to go before he could truly master this art.

Giuly and Rothen walked side by side toward the training field, and from afar they could hear muffled "bang, bang" sounds.

"So early? Who's doing extra training?" Juli squinted.

As the two approached, they saw Roy standing at the edge of the penalty area, with more than a dozen balls scattered at his feet.

He took a few steps back, ran up, and swung his leg—the ball drew a strange arc, plummeted after clearing the wall of players, and slammed against the underside of the crossbar before bouncing into the net.

Rothen whistled: "Damn, when did this kid learn that move?"

Juli didn't say anything, he just crossed his arms.

He noticed that Roy's posture had changed—his left foot was slightly back, and the angle of his body tilt was very similar to...
He frowned: "This style of play looks a bit like that Brazilian from Lyon?"

Roy turned around and saw the two of them, wiping his sweat: "Good morning."

"Good morning?" Rothen walked over and nudged the ball on the ground with his toe. "How long have you been practicing?"

“Not long after,” Roy shrugged, “he just suddenly had a breakthrough.”

Juli picked up a ball and weighed it in his hand: "Let me see another one."

Roy positioned the ball and took a deep breath.

This time, the ball arced even further, bypassing the wall of dummies and heading straight into the top corner.

Rothen and Giuly exchanged a glance.

As the team's two longtime set-piece specialists, they know all too well what this level of play means.

Giuly suddenly grinned and tossed the ball to Rothen: "Looks like we'll have to switch players for set pieces from now on."

Rothen caught the ball, his eyes wide: "Hey, are you kidding me?"

He turned to look at Roy, waving his arms exaggeratedly, "It's one thing to steal my crosses from the wing, but now you're even trying to steal the right to take set pieces? Is there no justice in this world?"

Roy raised an eyebrow: "It's not like I didn't help you win."

He casually flicked the ball at his feet, bringing it to a steady stop on his toes. "I was just practicing casually."

"Just practicing casually?"

Rothen rushed to the ball and slammed it onto the turf. "Come on, let's have a contest. If you can score three in a row, I'll be your human wall from now on!"

Giuly laughed so hard he couldn't stand up straight, and casually took a few more balls from the basket: "I'll be the referee, and the loser will treat the whole team to a big meal."

Roy and Rothen exchanged a smile, and the training ground suddenly became lively in the early morning.

In the distance, teammates who arrived one after another heard the commotion and looked over curiously.

Evra yelled at the top of his lungs, "Hey! You three secretly practiced extra without me?"

As night falls, the yachts in Monaco's harbor light up like stars.

The whole team huddled on the restaurant terrace, the sea breeze carrying the scent of champagne.

"Homage to our generous Jerome!"

Giuly raised his glass, the ice cubes clinking inside.

He winked at Roy, and the two of them simultaneously revealed sly smiles.

Rothen slumped in his chair, staring at the mountain of oysters and lobsters piled on the table: "You're murdering me! Do you think I care about this little bit of money?!"

He gritted his teeth: "What angers me is that you suddenly know how to kick free kicks! You missed seven in training last week!"

Morientes: "Admit it, Jerome, you're just jealous of his downward arc!"

"fart!"

Rothen grabbed a napkin and wiped his hands. "See you at the training ground tomorrow. I'll show you what a real cross is!"

March 29, 2004, French Football Federation office.

Santini put down the phone and rubbed his temples.

Zidane's voice still echoed in his ears from the other end of the phone: "I won't be going this time; I need to rest."

He knew that Zidane needed time to process Real Madrid's defeat to Monaco at the Bernabéu.

Assistant coach Domenech pushed open the door and came in, holding the latest roster: "Monaco has confirmed it. Roy, Giuly, Rothen, and Pedretti can all come."

He paused, then added, "Oh, right, Roy recommended that we bring Evra along too."

"Roy recommended him?" Santini interrupted. "He's only played a few good games and he dares to give orders?"

Domenech: "Deschamps also recommended Evra."

Santini: "Deschamps? What gives him the right to dictate the national team roster?"

Domenech: "He said Evra was very consistent on the left wing."

Santini sneered: "Then why not just call up the entire Monaco team?"

He quickly wrote down the names of Roy, Giuly, Rothen, Pedretti, Evra, Abidal, Squillaci, Rodriguez, Givet, and finally even added the name of substitute goalkeeper Silva.

Then knead it into a ball.

“Send a fax,” he slammed the list on the table, “and have Deschamps bring his kindergarten to register.”

Then, he crossed out Evra's name on the paper with a pen and wrote Abidal's name heavily.

Santini must weigh various factors when selecting players for Champions League powerhouse Monaco.

On the one hand, Monaco's outstanding performance in the Champions League made the selection of these players inevitable; on the other hand, as the national team coach, he needs to maintain his authority.

Therefore, when drafting the roster, Santini decided to take a compromise: he called up almost all of Monaco's key players, including Roy, Giuly, Rothen, Pedretti and other core members.

This call-up both acknowledges Monaco's overall strength and avoids giving the impression of "giving Roy special treatment."

Most importantly, Santini deliberately skipped Roy's recommended candidate.

This choice was not based on competitive considerations, but rather on the need to maintain the head coach's authority.

In this way, Santini both took into account the influence of the Monaco contingent and clearly conveyed a message: the selection of national team players always rests in the hands of the head coach.

Domenech took the list and stared at it for a few seconds.

He knew that Santini's contract only lasted until the end of the European Championship, and that the Football Association had long questioned the coach's tactical abilities.

“This list.” He deliberately dragged out his words.

Santini didn't even look up: "Just send it as is."

Domenech walked out of the office, a slight smile flashing across his face.

He recalled his secret meeting last week with the vice president of the Football Association, who hinted that a "new direction" might be needed after the European Championship.

Santini's current treatment of Monaco players is practically paving the way for his own future.

He took out his phone and found Henry's number in his contacts.

His finger hovered over the dial key for a moment, then slid down to Roy's name.

It's time to start planning – first, win over a few key players, and when the European Championship results are not ideal, more people will naturally stand on your side.

In Roy's living room, several players were slumped over the coffee table.

Evra slammed his phone down on the leather sofa, making the glasses on the coffee table clatter.

"They chose Eric (Abidal)?"

Evra glared at him. "Didn't we agree on this with you? Put me on the list first, and then help Abidal get a spot next time."

Roy walked barefoot on the wool carpet, slowly chewing gum.

He reached into his laptop and pulled up a detailed list: "Look, Santini recruited all of us, and Deschamps even went against the grain and specially recommended you."

The cursor deliberately flashed in the spot where Evra should have appeared, "but you were the one who got replaced."

Abidal stood awkwardly in the corner: "Should I go tell the Football Association I'm not going?" "Don't be silly," Roy interrupted him without turning his head, "This isn't your problem."

“We clearly agreed to resolve the left-back position first, and then we’ll add you to the center-back roster next time.”

Juli sarcastically remarked, "Lizarazudu is 35 years old. They'd rather have an old man than train a newcomer."

Roy sneered: "Santini is using the European Championship as his farewell performance; he doesn't care about the team's future at all."

"Perfect timing, L'Équipe has arranged an exclusive interview with me at the training base tomorrow."

He turned to Evra, "Want to talk about the selection of the left wing for the French team?"

A political game? Let's see who has more chips.

The Monaco contingent is currently riding high, and their resounding victory over Real Madrid in the Champions League has brought them into the national spotlight.

As long as he continues to perform well on the field, Santini will eventually have to back down.

Giuly and Rothen exchanged glances. Roy was clearly trying to force the issue, but he phrased it subtly.

Evra felt a surge of warmth in his heart.

He felt that Roy was the kind of person who genuinely cared about his brothers.

He can win the hearts of his teammates by being true to his word, sharing benefits, and having the courage to stand up for others. He also relies on his convincing skills on the field and his loyal and righteous character off the field.

Actually, that's not the case. Roy is well aware of the survival rules in football: profit always comes first.

But he also understood that those who monopolize the benefits will not go far.

Every time he tried to create opportunities for his teammates, he had a clear plan: helping Evra get into the national team would solidify the Monaco contingent's power, and supporting Giulya's position would solidify his own voice in the locker room.

He never hides his scheming, yet he undeniably ensures that every follower reaps the rewards. Like this time, standing up for Evra is both an expansion of his faction's influence and a show for the other players.

Following Roy will never be a bad thing.

This blatant yet rule-abiding exchange of benefits ironically won over the team members.

After all, in the world of professional football, where fame and fortune are at stake, it's already a rare stroke of luck to find a "big brother" who has a clear price tag and is willing to share the spoils.

Let's make the cake bigger together, cough cough.

On the morning of March 30, Henry drove his vehicle into the Clairefontaine training ground.

When he rolled down his car window to sign autographs for fans, French reporters immediately swarmed around him.

"Thirry! Let's talk about the conflict with Laurent on Sunday!"

"I heard you guys got into a fight in the players' tunnel?"

Henry's smile froze on his face.

He recalled the match three days earlier – Arsenal vs. Manchester United, a key Premier League game. In the 87th minute, when the score was 1-1, he made a brilliant pass to Lauren on the edge of the penalty area, creating a one-on-one opportunity, while simultaneously moving forward into open space himself.

Lauren, facing the goalkeeper, opted for a direct shot, which was saved, and his follow-up header also went wide of the post.

The image of him angrily waving his arms has been repeatedly broadcast by the media.

“Listen,” Henry took the pen, “we did talk for a long time in the corridor, but…”

He paused for a moment, then said, "Those of us who are fighting should go see an ophthalmologist."

The reporter pressed further: "So you admit you yelled at Lauren?"

"Every striker will regret missing a game-winning goal."

Henry started the engine. "Tomorrow we play the Netherlands, and on Saturday we play Manchester United in the FA Cup semi-final. Right now, I just want to focus on training."

Before leaving, he reached out to take a jersey from a young fan.

Just as his hand was halfway out, the young fan suddenly pulled his jersey back.

He then noticed that the white French away jersey clearly displayed "ROI 11".

"Don't you want Thierry Henry's autograph?" he asked, withdrawing his hand.

The little boy shook his head and hugged Roy's jersey even tighter.

His father, standing beside him, smiled obsequiously: "Killian only likes Roy!"

Shit
He closed the car window, and the reporter chasing after him was still reflected in the rearview mirror.

He secretly rejoiced that he had left in time.

If he stayed any longer, the reporters would definitely ask him about Monaco's 5-3 victory over Real Madrid and his opinion on Roy.

Lately, locker room and media discussions have been revolving around that name—Roy, Roy, and more Roy.

Wenger repeatedly drew red circles on the tactics board: "If we face Monaco, we must double-team Roy; his explosiveness and change of direction are too much for him."

The old man even adjusted the positions of the entire defensive line because of this.

What's even more annoying is Shabani-Nonda.

This Congolese player might be trying to prove that being relegated to the bench wasn't because he was bad, but because he was strong.

He would tell everyone he met, "It's not that I'm incapable, it's that Roy is too abnormal."

After training yesterday, he pulled Cole aside and kept saying, "That kid dribbles like he's on grease."

"The new hope after Zidane?"

He sneered.

When he won the French Footballer of the Year award, FIFA hinted that "a new generation of French flag bearers is needed."

Now, he's under pressure from Zidane, that "old guy," while a 19-year-old Roy has emerged behind him, whose Champions League victory over Real Madrid cemented his legendary status, with the media hyping him up even more than when he was first lauded.

Young French fans have already started imitating Roy's celebration, and sponsors' attention is also shifting.

He glanced at the latest issue of L'Équipe on the passenger seat; the front page featured a close-up of Roy grinning broadly, with the headline "A New King to Rise?"

Henry gripped the steering wheel; Saturday's FA Cup semi-final against Manchester United suddenly seemed exceptionally important.

He needs to score goals to show everyone who the real "king" is after Zidane.

Roy sat in the media room at the Clairefontaine training ground, where L'Équipe reporter Marco was asking questions about the French national team's left-back position.

“Every era needs to pass on its legacy. I was fortunate to work with Lizarazu in the national team, and he taught us what professionalism is. Silvestre’s experience at Manchester United was also invaluable to the dressing room. They are both respectable players who have left their mark on the history of French football.”

Marco pressed further: "So do you think their age will affect their performance with the national team?"

"In football, age is just an objective statistic. What matters is whether you can maintain your best performance for 90 minutes."

Roy paused for a moment, "Just like we've seen in the Champions League, modern football is placing increasingly higher demands on full-backs."

"You mean we need more young players like Evra?"

"Patrice is certainly included, isn't the most beautiful thing about football its diversity?"

Roy smiled: "Some players use experience to control the pace, while others use energy to ignite change. Every position needs healthy competition. The experience of veterans is invaluable, but the vitality brought by fresh blood is equally important. Especially considering that this year is the European Championship."

"Importantly, the rooster badge on the chest of the jersey will not fade when you need to sprint back 80 meters to defend."

Marco's pen paused on the notebook.

This statement both praises the veteran's contributions and implies the physical advantages of the younger players.

He continued, "Do you think Coach Santini should have been bolder in his player selections?"

Roy nodded slightly: "The coaching staff knows each player's condition better than we do. But when it comes to preparing for a major tournament like the European Championship, any strong team needs to test different personnel configurations through warm-up matches before the official games. Especially those young players who may take on important roles in the future, they always need to be given the opportunity to adapt to the national team's rhythm."

"You mean we should give newcomers more playing time in warm-up matches?"

"I just think that tough matches like the Champions League are the best test of a player's true ability. If veterans in certain positions are indeed in excellent form, then of course they should continue to be trusted. But if young players continue to perform brilliantly at their clubs, perhaps they should also be given the opportunity to prove themselves with the national team."

It depends on how you interpret that statement.

Anyway, we advanced by defeating Lizarazu.

He concluded by saying, "After all, warm-up matches before major tournaments are meant to address these issues. Waiting until the main tournament to consider personnel changes is not the most ideal option for either the team or the new players."

After the interview, Roy knew that his words were enough to start the media and fans discussing the generational transition at the left-back position in the French national team.

Roy had just stepped out of the media room when he was stopped by Santini's assistant coach.

"The coach wants to see you," the assistant whispered.

Pushing open the wooden door to Santini's office, Roy smelled the familiar scent of cigars.

Santini was standing by the window, with his back to him.

"sit."

Santini turned around, a formulaic smile on his face. "How did the interview go?"

"Routine procedure."

Roy sat down on the leather sofa and noticed a number 10 jersey neatly folded on the desk.

Santini continued, "Your performance at the Bernabéu was brilliant, a hat-trick. Few players can do that at Real Madrid's home ground."

"Especially what you said after the match, 'I want to help French football regain its glory,' that was very bold."

Roy sensed a hidden meaning in his words—the old fox was clearly implying that he had been in the limelight lately.

"I was just telling the truth."

Roy said calmly, "French football does need new energy and needs to prove itself in the Champions League."

Santini narrowed his eyes: "It's a good thing that young people are ambitious."

He paused meaningfully, "But some traditions still need to be respected."

Roy knew what he was referring to—it was a clear warning to him to stay out of the coaching staff's business.

Santini slowly sat down: "Zidane won't be participating in this friendly match."

His fingers tapped lightly on the table. "We've decided that you'll wear size 10."

Roy's gaze sharpened instantly.

He recalled the same scene last year—Santini gave him the number 11 jersey, implying that he should replace Wiltord.

Wiltord has indeed been squeezed out of the national team, and Santini is trying to repeat the same trick.

"It's my pleasure."

Roy said calmly, "But after Zidane returned..."

"That's for later."

Santini interrupted him, "The team needs a core player now."

Roy frowned.

He knew that refusing would be a sign of weakness, but accepting would mean being used as a pawn.

Roy stared at the number 10 jersey, knowing full well what it meant.

If the coaching staff dares to risk offending Zidane and publicly establish him as the core of the new generation, he is fully confident in taking on this important task.

However, if the intention is simply to use him as a temporary tool during the warm-up matches and discard him afterward, he would never create unnecessary conflict with Zidane for such a temporary arrangement.

This was not out of fear, but a wise choice—either give him real power or forget about it; such a tentative trick was not worth the risk.

"If I wear it, I will wear it forever."

Santini's smile froze: "What do you mean?"

Roy's eyes sharpened, then he gave a humble smile: "Coach, it's an honor to wear the core number. However..."

"Considering Zidane's special status in the team, I think it would be more appropriate to wait until he returns before making a decision on this jersey."

Santini frowned slightly: "Are you questioning the coaching staff's decision?"

"of course not."

Roy spoke sincerely, "I'm just worried that this temporary arrangement might cause unnecessary trouble for the team. After all, Zidane is back."

"You're worrying too much."

Santini interrupted, "This is just a temporary arrangement for the warm-up matches."

Roy nodded slightly: "I completely understand the coaching staff's good intentions. However..."

He looked directly into Santini's eyes. "If it's just for warm-up matches, I think keeping the current numbers is more appropriate. After all, team stability is the most important thing, don't you agree?"

"Coach, I actually think Thierry is more suited to wear the number 10 jersey. With his ability and experience, he is fully capable of taking on this responsibility."

Santini shook his head: "Thirry prefers to wear his own number."

“That’s perfect,” Roy replied immediately, his tone relaxed and natural. “I also prefer wearing size 11. This number has brought me a lot of good luck, and I don’t want to change it for now.”

This jersey is a trophy taken from Wiltord: "Back Germany's Back Number ~First 発を胜われた男~"

The incompetent former owner didn't even struggle much before obediently giving up the number.

As Roy stepped out of the office, the humility on his face gradually faded.

He knew that these words both stated his position and left Santini with no ammunition.

The old fox should understand that using him as a pawn won't be so easy.

(One chapter today, to save up some drafts to avoid future hiatuses. The results are vibrant and everything is thriving. I won't cut it, I won't cut it, I won't cut it.)

(End of this chapter)