When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 15 Should You Thank Him? (Please Read On!)

Sixty-fifth minute.

Shabani Nonda stood on the sidelines as Deschamps substituted him for Dado Pulso.

This was a smart strategy: if he replaced Roy with Shabani, it would mean he was contradicting himself. He had already taken a huge risk by deciding to promote Roy and had lost Shabani's trust in the process; even if he reversed course, he couldn't go back to the way things were before.

The locker room issue is actually more complicated.

Now they need to compete against each other, even if neither of them scores and even if they lose the game.

He now has an excuse to give the two a warning; at least in the next match, the other side will have no say in who Deschamps starts.

In his first chance in the last match, Shabani received the ball with his back to goal in front of the penalty area, then passed it to Giuly. Giuly flicked the ball, dodged the defender's block, and chipped it over Shabani, who turned and jumped to head the ball powerfully inside the penalty area.

However, such a hasty attempt to reach the top was naturally unable to break through Cech's defenses.

On the sidelines, Rennes fans erupted in increasingly loud cheers.

Die-hard fans in the stands chanted "Allez Rennes!"

Tens of thousands of fans stomped their feet in time with the drumbeats, shaking the water glasses on the away team's bench.

As Roy crossed the sideline once, a Rennes fan taunted him, "Eastern kid! Even the cows of Brittany can shoot better than you!"

This made him a little angry.

Eighty-nine minutes.

After coming on as a substitute, Gallardo received a lobbed pass from Rothen at the far post and unleashed a powerful shot that flew straight into the top corner.

Cech flicked the ball laterally and tipped it over the line with one hand.

"One game doesn't mean anything. We have a big points advantage right now, so a draw is an acceptable result."

Deschamps sighed silently on the sidelines.

Monaco's corner kick opportunity.

Gallardo took the corner kick, and it was a very high-quality shot!

A curved shot plunged straight into the six-yard box!
"Shabani leaped high and unleashed a powerful header towards the goal—"

"boom!"

Roy was physically battling with the defender, and in the struggle, he had lost count of how many times he had seen the Czech player deny their goals. In the past, his attitude towards Cech was more one of respect and admiration.

Now he knows, when you stand opposite him.

You'll really hate this face!!!
"Cech parried the ball with one hand, but not far enough! The ball remained in the penalty area, like a bomb with a lit fuse, instantly triggering a melee!"

Rennes defender Ariba made a hasty clearance, but the ball accidentally hit his teammate Escudé's back and bounced off.

Bernardi, enraged, tried to squeeze in and kick someone.

However, under pressure from Rennes defender Arno Leland, his long kick missed and he stumbled to the ground.

Roy desperately pushed his way towards the ball.

In the chaos, the ball inexplicably rolled to his feet, but Rennes' players swarmed towards him.

Three people surrounded them in a confined space!
"The game has ended in regular time, and the referee has given four minutes of injury time."

Cech's pupils suddenly contracted as he stared intently at Roy, who was lunging for the ball; it all happened in an instant.

His feet had already moved ahead of time, and his body was tense like a leopard ready to pounce.

Roy cut inside with his right foot, shaking off the first midfielder, Olivier Sorin.

Then, with a flick of his left foot, he slid the ball through the gap between Frederick Jay and Lamin Diata's outstretched legs!
He faced Cech directly, at his cold, stern face!

And an extremely narrow shooting angle!
The narrow road meets the brave to win!

After being outmaneuvered, Lamin Diata turned and slid in with all his might. In a flash, Roy's right leg swung briefly.

"A series of small-scale breakouts! This is an opportunity."

Cech suddenly exerted force from his waist.

"Shh!"

The outside of his foot swept the ball across the front of the goal!
Deschamps clenched his fists and slammed them into the air, sending the tactical board flying three meters away.

A figure followed up from the back post, and Shabani arrived just in time to shoot.

"Roundup!!!"

Cech even made a second reaction, but the ball slipped under his arm and into the net!
“Buuuuuuuuuuut!!!”

The commentator roared, "Roy's brilliant performance led to Shabani's game-winning goal! That's the instinct in the penalty area! That's the killer instinct! Creating order from chaos, carving a path out of a desperate situation!"

Realizing he had lost his composure, Deschamps quickly composed himself, turned and nodded to the fourth official to avoid being called out.

Shabani leaped up and climbed onto the Rennes goal. Cech glared at him and silently stepped aside.

The Congolese Black Panthers roared at the home fans, as if venting their pent-up frustrations from the past few days.

However, the home fans mistook this for a protest by the former Rennes player, and a tidal wave of boos erupted. He was then pulled down by Max, who rushed over, and surrounded by the crowd.

"I scored! Did you see that?! This team still depends on me! Where's that kid?!"

Shabani raised his face and looked at the faces surrounding him.

"That's the kid who passed you the ball, should you thank him?"

Shabani's smile vanished.

The score on the scoreboard was 0-1.

On the sidelines, Kajigao silently opened his scouting notebook and wrote a hasty but professional evaluation with a fountain pen.

Sense of smell: anticipate the second ball's trajectory and touch it before three defenders can reach it.

Technique: Despite being over 1.8 meters tall, he can still dribble with a low center of gravity, completing two changes of direction and one precise sweep within a 2.5 x 2.5 meter space.

Calm: Before making an assist, feint a shot and pause deliberately, waiting for your teammates to move up. Before touching the ball, you have most likely already used your peripheral vision to lock onto the positions of your two teammates.

High-pressure decision-making: refusing to force a shot and choosing to provide a sweeping assist, demonstrating superior decision-making ability compared to most others.
He crossed out the names of his peers and changed them to "professional player".

"Wenger would absolutely love a player like that."

He said.

Shabani's silence was deafening.

After the game, he refused to continue celebrating and went straight back to the locker room.

He really wanted to say something.

Or he might think Roy assisted him to ease tensions, in which case he could take the opportunity to say, in a veteran's manner, that everyone is a teammate.

But Roy completely ignored him and chose to give him the cold shoulder.

The subtext is that it doesn't seek credit, doesn't provoke, but also doesn't forgive.

He was only trying to win, and that was the most logical choice at the time.

First and foremost, he needs to win; only then can he focus on his own performance and statistics.

But if we win and he performs well, and there are still bastards who dare to make sarcastic remarks, then we'll tear their mouths apart.

After the game, Roy shook hands with everyone.

As Cech picked up his water glass from beside the goal and prepared to return to the locker room, Roy called out to him.

"Can we exchange jerseys?" Roy smiled.

"Your performance today impressed me so much that I'm starting to wonder if I should switch to playing table tennis."

He told a joke in a leisurely manner, which made the Czech man laugh.

"You can't pass a ping-pong ball."

Beneath Peter Cech's outwardly icy personality—characterized by extreme rationality and obsessive-compulsive self-discipline—lies an inner magma that secretly enjoys playing drums, joining heavy metal bands, and telling corny jokes.

For example, he once said: "Why are goalkeepers the best husbands? Because we can save marriages."

Roy thought he could exchange humor tips with Totti.

Rennes fans gave their final round of applause for the goalkeeper's incredible save today.

The locker room door.

Marcelo Gallardo walked over and deliberately said loudly, "Next time, just shoot directly. Don't give some people a chance to take advantage of the situation."

Shabani clenched and unclenched his fist.

He wanted to score a goal tonight to finally prove himself, but it would have been better if he hadn't.

The teammates, who had just won another victory, were already making a ruckus in the locker room. Giuly took the ice-cold beer that had been prepared in advance from the support staff.

One bottle after another was opened and handed to everyone in the locker room.

Each time a bottle was opened and handed to someone, a soft "but!" was uttered.

Finally, he handed two bottles of beer to Roy and Shabani, then suddenly pulled them together, bumping their shoulders until they ached: "Either we fight now, or we drink this whole case of beer together!"

"Isn't there one for me, Ludo?"

Deschamps stood behind him, a smile slowly spreading across his serious face.

"Take a week off, but you must be back in training by the 16th!"

The coach's words drew cheers.

There will be no matches for almost half a month.

After that, they faced a rather tight schedule.

Locker room politics are more difficult to manage than tactics, but winning can solve 90% of the problems.

(End of this chapter)