When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 174 This moment is just like that moment.

Du Chen sat in the black car arranged by Nike, which slowly drove towards the Pessoa Stadium in Leiria.

Outside the window, groups of Dutch fans, dressed in orange jerseys, waved their national flags and sang loudly, the whole street immersed in the pre-match jubilation.

This is a special Euro 2016-themed carnival arranged by Nike, and she will attend the new product launch and football-themed fashion show as a special guest.

As a Dutch supermodel, she recently filmed a promotional video for Nike wearing the new T90 jersey of the Dutch national team.

The car slowly made its way through the crowd, with occasional fans peering curiously through the windows. Security personnel cleared the way ahead, waving to signal the crowd to make way.

Upon arriving at the stadium's perimeter, staff verified her VIP credentials, conducted a security check, and guided her into a private passage.

As the surrounding cheers faded into the background, she hurried toward the VIP area, still faintly hearing the pre-match music coming from the loudspeakers in the distance.

They bumped right into Van der Vaart's girlfriend, Silvia Metz, a well-known MTV presenter and magazine model in the Netherlands.

Sylvia Metz was chatting and laughing with several Dutch models and celebrities when she saw Du Chen approaching, and her smile froze slightly.

Last year, when Van der Vaart and Roy were vying for the Golden Boy award, the Dutch media hyped up the news of "Roy, the son-in-law of the Netherlands" every day, which also made Duchen frequently appear in the headlines.

And Roy's nonchalant attitude after Van der Vaart's defeat only fueled her anger.

“What a coincidence,” Silvia said with a sweet smile, but her eyes fell on Du Chen’s Dutch national team jersey.

"Wearing orange to watch the French team's game? I thought the French WAGs had gone to the wrong stands."

She deliberately raised her voice, causing several people around her to turn their heads.

Du Chen knew there was something more to her words; the overwhelming reports from last year must have already left this Dutch national goddess feeling uneasy.

Roy's popularity during the Champions League and European Championship this year has been astonishing, with his exposure rivaling that of Beckham and Zidane, and even the Netherlands has begun to see his fans emerge.

In her opinion, if Roy hadn't dumped Du Chen, all this overwhelming exposure should have belonged to Du Chen.

Now, the sight of this Dutch girl wearing her national team jersey here seems particularly ironic.

Just then, a commotion broke out in the stadium.

As the players from both sides entered the field, the stadium erupted in deafening cheers.

Roy followed Zidane and Barthez out, the lights shining on his dark blue French jersey.

Sylvia suddenly stood on tiptoe and shouted Van der Vaart's name into the stadium.

The stadium DJ began announcing the program.

When the name "France's number 11" was announced, the blue sea of ​​the opposite stands instantly erupted, with French fans chanting in unison, "Roy!" The roar almost lifted the roof off the stadium.

Du Chen stared at Roy on the field, stunned.

Even though they had only been separated for a little over two months, the man in front of her seemed like a completely different person.

The experience of the Champions League final has shed his last trace of naivety. Now, standing in the halo of the Champions League champion, every move he makes exudes an aura of transformation.

Every detail silently proclaims: this is a man who has experienced peak battles.

Sylvia said sourly from the side, "What? Don't you recognize me?"

Du Chen then came to his senses and realized that his hands were gripping the railing tightly.

The big screen on the sidelines suddenly gave Roy a close-up. He happened to be looking up in their direction, a familiar smile flashing in his eyes, but it was quickly drowned out by the cheers of the fans.

As Roy turned and ran away, the number on the back of his jersey shone brightly under the lights, just like the time between them that could never be returned to.

With the referee's whistle, Van Nistelrooy gently passed the ball to Van der Vaart behind him, and the Netherlands kicked off first.

After receiving the ball, Van der Vaart did not immediately pass it back. Instead, he looked up and glanced at the French defense, his gaze lingering on Roy for a moment.

This young man, who has shone brightly in Europe over the past year, is currently being closely marked by Davis.

The Dutch team quickly deployed their formation.

Zenden surged forward on the left flank like an arrow, and Van Bronckhorst moved up to support him perfectly.

As the match began, the French team quickly tightened their defensive formation.

Vieira stood in the defensive midfield position, constantly using hand gestures to direct the movement of the defensive line.

With Makelele injured in the match against England, the team doctor ultimately advised him to postpone his starting position this morning, forcing manager Santini to choose Pedretti over Dacour.

The sideline cameras captured Van Nistelrooy gesturing to Van der Vaart to speed up the passing, while France's Henry subtly winked at Roy.

Van der Vaart held the ball in midfield and observed the situation, while Roy immediately dropped back to try and create a local numerical advantage.

But Davis, like a bulldog that has smelled blood, followed him closely.

Just as Roy reached within five meters of Van der Vaart, Davis blocked his position with a vicious shoulder charge.

French coach Santini on the sidelines suddenly stood up. He could see it clearly: Davies had completely given up participating in the attack and was staring at Roy like a shadow.

Whenever Roy tried to receive the pass, the Dutch number 8 would interfere with him using subtle tactics.

When Roy runs off the ball, he acts like a moving wall blocking the passing lane.

The Netherlands attempted to use this exchange tactic to stifle the French team's attacking rhythm.

At the same time, Van der Vaart finally delivered a through ball, which flew along the grass toward Van Nistelrooy, but Desailly intercepted it with a single touch.

A cacophony of sighs and cheers erupted from the stands, with the shouts of support from both sides rising and falling.

The French team quickly organized a counterattack.

Barthez quickly threw the ball to Gallas, who then made a long pass to Zidane in midfield.

Zidane controlled the ball deftly and turned, and Giuly immediately surged forward from the right flank.

The Dutch team's Cocu and Stam quickly retreated to defend, while Buma kept a close eye on Roy.

The game had only been going on for five minutes, but the pace of the offense and defense was already so fast that it was hard to breathe.

The French fans suddenly erupted in cheers.

Roy suddenly surged forward, with Davis chasing closely like a shadow.

Zidane dribbled forward, attempting to pass to Roy several times, but was forced to hesitate to pass the ball due to Davies' close marking.

Roy tried to change direction repeatedly, but he couldn't shake off this tough opponent.

Just then, Zidane suddenly stepped on the ball and turned in front of the penalty area, while Roy simultaneously moved laterally to the right.

Zidane understood perfectly and delivered a precise lob pass to the right side of the penalty area.

Roy sprinted to his position and gently controlled the ball with the instep of his foot.

He pretended to pass the ball across to Giuly, and Davis fell for the trick and slid in to block it.

Unexpectedly, Roy deftly flicked the ball over Davis, then quickly changed direction and broke into the penalty area!
The boos from the Dutch fans and the cheers from the French fans instantly filled the stadium.

The Dutch coach suddenly stood up on the sidelines, his face turning serious.

Before the match, he gave the team a strict order: they must defeat France, or at the very least, secure a draw.

After all, the Netherlands have already defeated Bulgaria 1-0 in their first match, and if they can beat France tonight, their qualification for the knockout stage will be a sure thing.

But if they lose this match and England beats Bulgaria, they'll have to fight tooth and nail against England in the final round.

The Dutch fans in the stands booed deafeningly, while the French fans cheered louder and louder.

The Dutch substitutes stood up nervously, Stam and Cocu were desperately chasing back, and Roy was sprinting with the ball.

Van der Sar stared intently at Roy's movements, his arms slightly outstretched in preparation for a save.

The fourth official on the sidelines had already started checking his watch. The game had only been going on for less than seven minutes, but the tense atmosphere had already made everyone hold their breath.

Roy dribbled into the right side of the penalty area and quickly took two steps with his right foot to adjust his rhythm.

Henry suddenly made a diagonal run into the box, raising his left hand high to call for the ball.

Cocu lunged at him from the left, and Roy suddenly flicked his right foot outward with the outside of his foot.

Cocu's balance was misled, and his legs instinctively spread apart. The ball passed precisely between his legs.

Upon seeing this, Stam immediately lowered his shovel, fully extending his left leg to block the line.

Roy quickly pulled the ball back with his right foot, then pushed off with his left foot, squeezing through the gap of less than a meter between the two players.

Van der Sar has already abandoned his goal and is spreading his arms to block the angle.

Roy leaned forward noticeably as Stam pulled him, his right shoulder almost touching the grass.

But his right foot held the ball firmly in place, like a magnet.

As Cocu stretched out his leg to intercept, he flicked his ankle, and the ball rolled deftly to the other side.

Stam's left hand was gripping Roy's jersey tightly, while his right hand was still trying to break his balance.

Just as he was about to fall, Roy suddenly jumped off his left foot, twisting his entire body 180 degrees in mid-air.

As he lost his balance, the outside of his right foot lashed out like a whip, sending the ball spinning outwards in a bizarre arc into the top corner.

The entire sequence of movements was completed in the blink of an eye: from staggering to shooting, it took only three steps to adjust, with the ball always closely following the instep of his foot, as if being pulled by an invisible thread.

The Dutch center-backs' attempts to block and pull the ball all failed, and they could only watch helplessly as the tricky shot flew towards the goal.

Van der Sar pushed off the ground with both legs, and his whole body leaped sideways like a spring.

His right arm was fully extended, and his palm struck the ball precisely at the highest point, making a crisp "snap" sound.

The moment the ball was hit, the Dutch fans in the stands erupted in deafening cheers.

The chants of "Edwin! Edwin!" echoed throughout the stadium.

But Roy suddenly sprang up from his bent-over position, and just as Van der Sar was about to land, he was launched into the air like a spring.

His right leg was fully extended, his abdominal muscles were taut like a bow, and he completed a powerful aerial shot using the momentum of his forward thrust.

"boom"

The ball made a dull thud the moment it hit the ground, and Roy's body continued to lunge forward, like a battering ram that had been fully charged.

His shooting motion was imbued with forward momentum; at the moment his right instep made contact with the ball, his entire body was almost parallel to the ground.

The dull thud of the ball hitting the net struck the hearts of Dutch fans like a heavy hammer blow.

The stands fell into a deathly silence. Several fans wearing orange jerseys covered their heads with their hands, their mouths open but unable to utter a sound.

The cheers from the French fans erupted like a tsunami, and red and blue flags waved wildly in the stands.

The camera panned across the Dutch substitutes' bench, where the wives and girlfriends looked deathly pale.

Sylvia bit her lip, her gaze shifting from the goal to Van der Vaart on the field.

The young Dutch midfield maestro stood frozen at the edge of the penalty area, spitting out a mouthful of saliva and wiping his face with his jersey.

In front of him, Van der Sar knelt on the goal line, his fist slamming heavily onto the grass.

In the 7th minute of the match, Roy gave France the lead with a brilliant breakthrough, dribbling past two players.

Dutch coach Advocaat angrily pumped his fist and roared, knowing that this premature goal had completely disrupted his pre-match plans.

Across the Netherlands, fans wearing orange jerseys stared intently at their television screens.

The commentator's urgent voice came from loudspeakers in thousands of homes:
"Cocu and Stam close in defense—danger!"

The beer mug hung in mid-air, and no one remembered to take a sip.

"Roy's change of direction was too cunning."

Countless hands unconsciously clenched.

"Van der Sar has made his move! Thank goodness, that outside-of-the-foot shot is alright! For now."

Some people had just breathed a sigh of relief.

"No! The rebound shot went in!!"

The sound of pounding the table and groans arose simultaneously.

"Conceding a goal in just seven minutes, what was Davies doing? This was a complete failure to mark Roy!"

The orange-clad figures in front of the television slumped on the sofa, silently staring at the replay.

Across France, fans held their breath, their eyes glued to the television screens.

The commentator's passionate voice boomed from countless loudspeakers in bars, living rooms, and plazas:
"Roy breaks through two defenders in a row! Look at that change of rhythm—absolutely brilliant!"

Beer foam overflowed the rim of the glass, but no one paid any attention.

Fans wearing blue, white, and red jerseys leaned forward in unison.

"Outer foot arc! Van der Sar made the save, but..."

Some people couldn't help but stand up, their fingers unconsciously clutching the team logo on their jerseys.

"Roy scores on the rebound!!! 1-0!"

Cheers erupted instantly, glasses clinked, and hats flew into the air.

In a church in a small town, the old priest excitedly slammed his fist on the table: "Saint Roy!!!"

"This is an invaluable championship performance! The Dutch defense looked like it was playing in slow motion against him!"

On the television, Zidane was the first to rush towards Roy, laughing as he hugged him.

Henry then jumped onto Roy's back, Vieira and Pedretti pounced from both sides, and Giuly finally landed on top of the crowd.

The French team members excitedly piled on top of each other to celebrate.

French fans watching on television jumped up excitedly, raising their arms and cheering: "Who else?! Who can stop us?!"

The sounds of beer glasses clinking in the bar, stomping in the living room, and whistling in the square blended together.

Everyone wore proud smiles, as if victory was already in sight.

At that moment, all of France seemed to be ignited by the same name—Roy!
The Dutch commentator's tone was one of deep sorrow and indignation:

"We repeatedly emphasized before the match that we needed to shut down Roy's right-wing cut-in. Now it's all over. Van der Sar did his best, but giving Roy two chances to shoot in the penalty area was suicidal!"

The French commentator, on the other hand, was beaming with pride:
"Look at this goal replay! From start to finish, Davies of the Netherlands was completely dribbled past like a post, and Stam's tackle was more like a foil for Roy! Zidane's lobbed pass just now was practically screaming 'I know you can do it!'"

The Dutch bench was deathly silent.

Sneijder scratched his head and muttered under his breath, "This guy is practically unstoppable on the right flank."

Robben scoffed: "His dribbling is indeed impressive, but he's not left-footed, and he cuts in and still uses his right foot to handle the ball, it's really awkward."

He glanced at the field again as he spoke, "But the main problem is that Van der Sar didn't manage to get the ball far enough away."

After the Netherlands kicked off, they immediately launched a high press, with Van Nistelrooy and Van der Meyde charging directly at the French center-back, forcing Barthez to launch a long ball.

Van der Vaart quickly retreated to midfield and, before Vieira could intercept, delivered a precise long diagonal pass with his left foot. The ball traveled 30 meters to find Zenden, who was making a high-speed run down the left flank.

The Netherlands throws the ball out of bounds, and Van Bronckhorst quickly moves forward to receive it.

Zenden dropped back to call for the ball, and Gallas immediately marked him closely, not giving him any space to turn around.

Seeing this, Van Bronckhorst passed the ball across to Cocu in the middle.

As soon as Cocu received the ball, Roy quickly closed in, blocking his passing lane.

Cocu could only pass back to Stam, who then launched a long pass to Van der Meyde on the right wing after observing the situation.

However, the French team maintained an excellent defensive formation.

Evra anticipated the move, preemptively blocking the ball and heading it back into midfield.

Vieira controlled the second ball firmly and immediately passed it to Zidane, who had dropped back.

Zidane received the ball, turned, and with a clever feint, shook off Van der Vaart before delivering a diagonal pass that precisely found Roy making a run forward!
Roy received the ball and accelerated instantly. Van Bronckhorst tried desperately to chase back, but Roy made a sudden stop and change of direction, cutting inside and heading straight for the penalty area!
Buma was forced to move forward to block, but Roy suddenly flicked the ball back with his heel to Henry who was following up.

"Danger!!!" the Dutch commentator exclaimed.

Just as Henry was about to unleash a powerful shot, an orange figure appeared like lightning.

Davis made a flying sliding tackle on the edge of the penalty area!

He was wearing goggles, and his ponytail swung in the air in an arc.

"boom!"

The two collided violently, and Henry was thrown to the ground, landing headfirst in the penalty area.

"No foul!"

The referee raised both hands to signal for the game to continue.

Davis roared, sprang to his feet, and stared intently ahead through his goggles.

He dribbled forward like a wild boar, his thick calf muscles taut, and forcefully squeezed through the encirclement of Pedretti and Giuly!
The cheers from the Dutch fans in the stands instantly rose eight octaves.

After dribbling past midfield, Davies suddenly delivered a low through ball, and Van Nistelrooy, holding off Desailly, turned and fired a shot.

Barthez leaped and caught the ball!
Henry was still lying in the French penalty area rubbing his ankle, while Davies had already returned to his defensive position and was excitedly gesturing to the referee that his tackle was completely justified.

His signature ponytail swung wildly with his intense movements, and his eyes behind his goggles were filled with a resolute determination to fight to the bitter end.

In the 12th minute, the Netherlands suddenly launched an attack on the left flank!
Van Bronckhorst surged forward along the sideline like an arrow, and Zenden, understanding perfectly, deftly flicked the ball past Gallas before he could intercept, completing a textbook one-two pass.

Van Bronckhorst received the ball and strode towards the byline. French right-back Gallas tried desperately to chase back, but was always half a body length behind.

Tensions instantly rose within the penalty area.

Van Nistelrooy and Thuram were locked in a fierce struggle, their muscles clashing with a dull thud.

Thuram held onto Van Nistelrooy's jersey tightly, while Van Nistelrooy used his strong back to brace against his opponent, constantly adjusting his position as he ran.

Just as Van Bronckhorst took the cross, Giuly, who was originally roaming in the attacking third, suddenly sprinted 40 meters back to the edge of the penalty area to defend, and his studs made a diving block that was just a hair's breadth away from the cross!
The ball traced a beautiful arc and flew straight to the far post.

At the edge of the penalty area, Roy was closely marking Van der Vaart.

He hunched over, his arms slightly outstretched, following the Dutch attacking midfielder's every move like a shadow.

When Van Nistelrooy headed the ball, Roy didn't even glance back at the trajectory, but instead focused intently on blocking Van der Vaart's possible follow-up shot.

Van Nistelrooy leaped with all his might under close marking from Thuram, veins bulging in his neck, and unleashed a powerful header in mid-air.

Barthez completely lost his balance and could only watch as the ball whistled past the top of the crossbar.

After landing, Van Nistelrooy knelt down and pounded the grass hard, while Thuram gasped for breath and held onto his knees.

Thuram, panting heavily, spat in Desailly's direction and muttered in a low voice, "Damn it! Have these Dutchmen taken the wrong medicine today?"

Desailly sneered: "The crazier they are, the better. It'll be perfect for showing the world how we deal with mad dogs."

Fanny retorted, "You pretentious old man, we'll see who lies down first."

Barthez launched a long goal kick, the ball gliding across the halfway line.

Vieira leaped high, overpowering Cocu to head the ball towards the center.

Zidane gracefully controlled the ball without even looking up.

His left foot had already delivered a 30-meter low through ball, which rolled precisely into the space behind the Dutch defense!
On the right flank, Roy sprang into action like a cheetah!
With explosive power, the cleats ripped through the grass, and the blue jersey fluttered in the wind as the player sprinted at high speed.

Van Bronkhorst was clearly closer to the ball, but in the last three meters, Roy's terrifying late-race acceleration completely overtook him!
The Dutch left-back made a desperate sliding tackle.

Roy took a half-step ahead and deftly flicked the ball up with his toe, then accelerated again to complete the nutmeg!
Stam suddenly appeared from the side, crashing into us like a wall of flesh.

Just as the two were about to collide, Roy suddenly flicked the ball with the outside of his right foot, sending it flying out in front of Stam!

Henry broke free of Heitinga in a sprint and, as he fell to the ground, used the instep of his left foot to poke the ball.

"boom!"

Van der Sar reflexively spread his legs, and the ball slammed heavily against his shin guards and bounced out of bounds!
In the 14th minute, France took a corner kick, and Zidane's curling shot found Desailly!
Desailly outjumps Heitinga to head the ball into the net!

Van der Sar lifted the crossbar with one hand!
Dutch commentator: "Van der Sar! It's Van der Sar again! We're all on his side!"

French commentator: "This match is so fast it's breathtaking! The Netherlands are launching a counter-attack!!! Watch out for Van der Meyde!"

As expected, the Netherlands launched a swift counterattack!
Van der Sar launched a long ball, Van Nistelrooy headed it on, Van der Vaart received the ball in the middle and advanced, then suddenly passed it to the wing against Vieira.

Van der Meyde goes on a rampage down the right flank!

Gallas desperately chased back, but Van der Meyde had already crossed the ball.

Cen Deng volleys from the far post!

"boom!"

The ball slammed against the crossbar and bounced out! France escaped a close call!
French commentator: "The crossbar saved us! This game is like pinball, the ball is bouncing back and forth between the two ends of the penalty area!"

Dutch commentator: "Zenden! Just a hair's breadth away! But the French attack again in the blink of an eye—Roy gets the ball!"

In the 16th minute, Roy received the ball near the sideline, and Van Bronckhorst immediately pressed him, trying to force him towards the sideline with his body.

But Roy suddenly stopped and changed direction, cutting the ball back with his right foot. Van Bronckhorst was thrown off balance and stumbled half a step back!

With just that half-step space, Roy had already adjusted his footing and crossed the ball with his right foot!

The ball arced low and straight towards the penalty area!
Henry quickly moved forward!
He leaped into the air before Haitingjia could reach the top, performing a diving leap!
"boom!"

Van der Sar reacted with lightning speed, tipping the ball away with one hand!

But the crisis is not over yet.

Zidane appeared at the second ball bounce! He met the rebounding ball with a powerful header!
"Shh!"

The ball grazed the far post and went out of play! The Netherlands escaped a close call!
Dutch commentator: "Van der Sar! It's Van der Sar again! He's been a god today!" French commentator: "Two excellent chances! Henry and Zidane's shots were just inches away! The Dutch defense is trembling!"

The match continued, with both sides still launching a fierce attack!

The Netherlands' pressure, France's counterattack, Roy's breakthrough, Van Nistelrooy's attack, Stam's interception, and Vieira's orchestration!
The ultimate expression of attacking football!
The match entered a heated phase, with both sides engaging in a fierce back-and-forth attack.

In the 20th minute, Zidane danced in midfield, using two consecutive Marseille turns to disorient Cocu, before delivering a precise diagonal pass with the outside of his foot.

Giuly received the ball on the right wing and swept a low cross across the face of goal. Roy, like a ghost, got rid of Heitinga and rushed to the near post, but unfortunately his shot under close marking was blocked by Van der Sar's leg.

The Dutch team quickly retaliated.

In the 28th minute, Van der Vaart feigned a long-range shot in the middle, but actually delivered a highly penetrating through ball.

Van Nistelrooy skillfully controlled the ball with his back to Desailly, then suddenly turned and fired a shot into the near corner. Barthez leaped up and barely tipped the ball over the crossbar with his fingertips.

Five minutes later, Van der Meyde overtook Evra on the right wing, and his cross found Zenden at the far post. Zenden's volley looked like it was about to go in, but Pedretti blocked the ball with his body as if he had descended from the sky.

The French team launched another offensive.

In the 38th minute, Roy, who had dropped back to receive the ball, faced Davis's fierce pressing and skillfully executed a croquet move to get past him, then dribbled the ball deep into the box.

In the instant Stam pressed forward, he calmly passed the ball to Henry, who had made a run down the left flank. Henry's powerful shot from a tight angle was miraculously saved by Van der Sar.

Four minutes later, Zidane once again displayed his mastery, tearing apart the Dutch defense with a surgical through ball. Roy successfully broke the offside trap and had a one-on-one opportunity, but his shot was once again blocked by Van der Sar's leg.

In stoppage time, Vieira intercepted the ball in midfield and delivered a precise long pass. Roy chested the ball down and volleyed it directly, but Bouma bravely dove to block the shot, and the ball slammed into him and bounced out of bounds.

The referee immediately blew the halftime whistle, and both teams' players, drenched in sweat, headed towards the locker room, while thunderous applause erupted from the stands.

In the CCTV5 studio, Huang Jianxiang loosened his tie and smiled at the camera:

"Coach Zhang, my palms were sweating from watching the first half!"

Zhang Lu chuckled and replied, "That was truly spectacular! Both teams perfectly captured the essence of attacking football."

"Roy!!! That goal in the 7th minute was so beautiful! He dribbled past two players and his reaction time on the rebound was amazing!"

"This goal was like a match, completely igniting the fuse on the field! Look, after the Netherlands conceded such an early goal, they completely let loose and the French team also gained momentum, which is why we are witnessing such a wonderful attacking battle!"

"From the moment Roy scored, both teams completely dropped their pretense of testing each other. The Dutch launched a furious counterattack, and the French responded to each move with equal skill. The back-and-forth exchanges of attack and defense were breathtaking! This was a true clash of titans!"

Zhang Lu laughed and said, "That was a really beautiful goal! First, he changed direction to get past Cocu, then he stopped abruptly to get past Stam, and finally, his reaction to the follow-up shot was a whole beat faster than the defender."

Huang Jianxiang: "Coach Zhang, let's be honest, where do you think Roy would rank in world football given his current level?"

Zhang Lu: "Hehe, this Roy... I think he's the most complete young attacker in football today! Technique, speed, awareness—he's top-notch in everything. Look how much trouble he caused the Dutch defense today."

Huang Jianxiang: "Do you think he is currently the world's number one among the younger generation?"

Zhang Lu: "Let's compare all the rising stars from 04: Rooney has strong impact but his technique isn't very refined, and his ball handling speed is brutal; Kaka is fast but relatively thin; Cristiano Ronaldo has many fancy moves but his decision-making is still lacking; Van der Vaart is very talented but contributes little defensively. Roy was only 19 years old but was already so composed, and his key pass choices were particularly reasonable. Monaco's treble win was well-deserved because of him as the core player!"

Huang Jianxiang: "According to you, no one in the younger generation can compare to him?"

Zhang Lu: "Not only among the younger generation, but in the entire football world, he can be said to be the most outstanding player this year. If you ask me, if he continues to develop at this pace, he will definitely be the world's best in the future."

"That's right!"

Huang Jianxiang raised his voice: "Now, domestic fans have given him so many nicknames! Some call him 'Azure Frost Swordsman,' and others call him 'French Ranger'!"

"Think about it, 'Azure Frost Without Shadow' describes his breakthrough as swift as a flash of sword light. 'Wandering Knight' praises his elegant and unrestrained playing style."

"Of course, some Shandong fans prefer to call him 'Son of Qilu Wind' because of his ancestral home!"

Zhang Lu interjected with a smile: "If you ask me, the most fitting analogy is the one from 'World Football'."

"Yep!"

Huang Jianxiang interjected, "Like a peerless swordsman in Gu Long's novels, his moves are graceful and deadly! Look at his performance today. If he continues like this, he's a Golden Globe winner."

The director suddenly interrupted to remind them of the time, and Huang Jianxiang, still feeling a bit unsatisfied, concluded: "In short, this Roy is definitely the most anticipated superstar of the next decade!"

"As for the Dutch team," Huang Jianxiang changed the subject, "Van der Vaart's playmaking was very threatening, but he was just a bit unlucky."

"Yes!"

Zhang Lu slapped his thigh, "If that crossbar had gone in, the situation would have been different. But France's defense is really solid, and Vieira is in really good form today."

"The most crucial player is Roy! Three threatening shots and two key passes in the first half – those stats are outstanding!"

“Indeed,” Zhang Lu added with a smile, “The Dutch team needs to find a way to limit him, otherwise they will suffer in the second half.”

"Coach Zhang, do you think the Dutch team should adjust its defensive strategy?"

Zhang Lu pondered for a moment and said, "Davis is already working very hard on defense, but Roy is too agile. I think we can try having Cocudo help defend."

The two of them chatted back and forth, offering professional yet humorous commentary on the highlights of the first half.

At halftime, Dutch coach Advocaat immediately made substitutions.

Davis emerged from the locker room with a gloomy face and went straight to the last row of the bench to sit down.

The 31-year-old veteran's marking of Roy in the first half was quite effective, but after running alongside the 19-year-old for 45 minutes, he was clearly starting to feel the strain.

Ceng's performance in the first half was mediocre, and his stamina couldn't keep up with the pace, so Overmars was substituted to strengthen the attack.

Statistics show that Davis covered 5.8 kilometers in the first half, which is considered high intensity for a defensive player.

But facing Roy's tireless changes of direction and sprints, the veteran's knees and lung capacity couldn't keep up.

While Sneijder and Overmars were warming up on the sidelines, Advocaat specifically instructed Sneijder: "Your job today is to stick to Roy, don't let him get away even for a second! Cocu will cover behind, you just need to mark him closely. Remember, even when we're attacking, you have to stay in center circle and keep an eye on him!"

Sneijder curled his lip, thinking to himself, "I'm a talented midfielder too, why should I be a lackey?"

Sneijder was standing near the center circle.

Before the whistle blew to signal the start of the game, he stared intently at Roy's back.

The 19-year-old was standing lazily with his hands on his hips, the hem of his jersey swaying gently in the wind.

"Beep——"

As soon as the whistle blew, Roy suddenly retreated like a cheetah taking off.

Sneijder's heart tightened, and he was about to take a step when he saw the other person turn around and give him a crooked smile.

In that split second of hesitation, Roy had already slipped into his blind spot.

"What the hell!"

As Sneijder turned, Vieira's pass was penetrating the midfield.

He hurriedly chased back, only to see Roy easily turn around and get rid of Cocu's defense, sending a penetrating through ball with the outside of his right foot.

Henry made a lightning-fast run and fired a powerful shot from a tight angle that struck the side netting.

Sneijder stood there, watching the French players shake their heads in disappointment.

He clenched his fist, knowing that his hesitation had given his opponent an opportunity.

51 minutes.

After intercepting the ball in their own half, the Netherlands launched a quick counter-attack, with Sneijder dribbling the ball up to midfield.

He and Van der Vaart completed a brilliant one-two pass: Sneijder made a quick forward run after a through ball, and Van der Vaart deftly laid it back with his back to goal.

Sneijder took a shot from 30 meters out without adjusting, and the ball flew like a cannonball into the top right corner of the goal!

Barthez leaped into the air and tipped the ball over the crossbar with one hand.

The Netherlands are awarded a corner kick.

Van der Vaart took the corner kick, and a precise, curving shot found Van Nistelrooy in the center of the penalty area.

The Dutch striker leaped high above Desailly and unleashed a powerful header!

The ball sailed past Barthez's outstretched fingers, slammed against the underside of the crossbar, and bounced into the net! 1-1!

The Dutch fan section erupted instantly, with orange scarves billowing like waves.

The broadcast cameras captured Van der Vaart's girlfriend, Sylvia, crying tears of joy in the stands. She covered her mouth, tears streaming down her carefully made-up face.

Sneijder was the first to rush over, leaping onto his back and yelling at his teammates, "This is just the beginning!"

Van der Vaart also rushed over, pointing at the French half of the field with youthful vigor: "It's our turn to teach them a lesson!"

Roy stood on the edge of the penalty area, hands on his hips, his gaze sweeping over the celebrating Dutch players.

He walked quickly toward Zidane and Henry, and the three of them gathered together for a brief exchange.

"They pressed too high."

Roy pointed to the Dutch defense, "Let Vieira and Pedretti launch long passes behind the defense!"

He turned to Zidane: "Zidane, push forward a little."

He then winked at Henry: "Let's speed things up, sacrificing a little possession is fine."

Zidane wiped the sweat from his chin and nodded briefly: "Okay, but the pass needs to be quick."

"Next time you counter-attack, just pull to the wing, and I'll come find you."

Henry had just finished discussing tactics with Roy and Zidane when his eyes suddenly glanced at the sidelines.

Trezeguet is warming up.

The smile on his face froze instantly.

France's counter-attack pace subtly quickened, with Roy standing near the center circle like a fully drawn bow.

55 minutes.

Roy keenly noticed the gap left by Sneijder's forward run and immediately dropped back to midfield to receive the pass.

Zidane understood perfectly and delivered a low pass.

The two players completed two quick one-touch passes in quick succession, instantly tearing apart the Dutch defense.

Stam was forced to move forward to cover, and Roy suddenly stopped and changed direction, gently flicking the ball with his right foot, immediately shifting Buma's center of gravity.

At the edge of the penalty area, Roy took a step back and curled a beautiful shot with his right foot, sending the ball straight into the top right corner of the goal!

Van der Sar leaped into the air, his body fully extended, and with his right fingertips just touching the ball, he poked it towards the far post.

But the crisis was not over. Giuly, lurking at the far post, appeared like a ghost and calmly pushed the ball into the empty net with the inside of his right foot before Van Bronckhorst could cover! 2-1!

Giuly excitedly rushed to the corner flag and slid on his knees in celebration, while Roy and Zidane ran over laughing and tackled him to the ground.

Stam, his face flushed, yelled at Sneijder, "Are you fucking out of your mind? Are you just going to leave Roy like this?!"

Sneijder immediately retorted: "Stop acting like a big shot! You were a beat slow in covering for us and you have the nerve to blame me?"

Van der Sar rushed over and separated the two: "Shut the fuck up! Are you trying to throw another one out by arguing now?"

Cocu grabbed Sneijder's jersey: "Wesley, you're pushing too far forward, Roy's just waiting to attack behind you!"

Sneijder took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, and nodded: "Understood, Philip (Cocu)."

Heitinga pointed to the scoreboard: "It's only 2-1! We have plenty of time to come back!"

Van Bronkhorst smoothed things over, saying, "Roy's too cunning; we need to adjust our marking."

Stam sneered: "You should have said that a long time ago!"

He pushed aside his teammates who were surrounding him and turned to walk towards the penalty area.

Sneijder spat angrily onto the grass.

60 minutes.

Overmars received the ball on the left wing and suddenly accelerated in front of Gallas's defense.

He used a sudden stop and change of direction to shake off his opponent, and then crossed the ball from near the byline.

The ball arced low and flat, and Van Nistelrooy leaped ahead of Desailly to volley it!

Thuram stretched out his leg on the goal line and blocked the ball out of bounds.

The Dutch players held their heads in disappointment, while the French team immediately launched a quick counterattack.

Roy received the ball with his back to goal in his own half, executed a clever turn, and instantly shook off Van der Vaart, who was marking him.

He lowered his body and crossed his legs rapidly, like an engine running at full throttle.

His pace quickened, and he maintained perfect distance with the ball, making each step a precise touch to advance the ball.

Grass splattered at his feet, and his jersey clung tightly to his body in the oncoming wind.

The Dutch players tried desperately to catch up, but watched helplessly as the distance between them gradually widened.

Roy's explosiveness was too great; he had already broken through the midfield in just a few big strides.

His breathing was deep and steady, his eyes fixed on the front, and only one thought occupied his mind: Charge! Charge again! Overtake anyone who tries to stop me!

Sneijder charged in from the side to intercept, and Roy suddenly changed direction with a flick of his right foot, his cleats scraping against the grass with a "whoosh".

Accelerate! Accelerate again! The orange defense line receded like a tide.

Van Bronkhorst fought and retreated, but Roy suddenly dribbled the ball ten meters ahead and darted out like a cheetah.

Gasps erupted from the stands as French fans collectively stood up.

The commentator's voice cracked: "Roy! He's going to go solo!"

Cocu gritted his teeth and sprinted back, just as Roy was about to break into the penalty area and face the central defensive pair.

He suddenly bent down and shoveled the grass, his right leg sliding three meters away.

"Crack!"

The spikes hooked precisely onto Roy's supporting foot.

Roy, who was running at high speed, lost his balance instantly, his whole body was lifted half a meter into the air, and his back slammed heavily on the grass and slid a long distance away.

The referee's whistle pierced the field.

Cocu immediately raised his hand to indicate that he accepted the penalty, but saw that Roy had already curled up like a shrimp, his left hand tightly gripping his ankle, his forehead pressed against the grass and panting heavily.

The referee showed a yellow card, and the French team was awarded a free kick 35 meters from the edge of the field.

Zidane picked up the ball and headed towards the penalty spot, only to see Roy limping after him.

"I'm fine," Roy wiped the grass off his face and reached for the ball. "Zido, let me try this ball?"

Zidane frowned as he examined the bleeding knee, but still passed the ball to him.

The fourth official on the sidelines raised the substitution board.

Number 20 on, number 12 off.

Henry wiped the sweat from his face and slowly walked to the sidelines.

Trezeguet had already taken off his substitute vest and was jumping around on the sideline to warm up.

The two exchanged a quick high-five as they passed each other, and Trezeguet, like a beast unleashed from its cage, rushed onto the field in three strides.

God knows how long he sat on the bench.

Henry walked to the bench, plopped down, grabbed a towel, and vigorously wiped his face.

The French fans on the sidelines applauded, both for Henry who was leaving the field and for Trezeguet who was preparing to take the field.

Roy placed the ball and took five steps back.

The Dutch wall was on high alert; they were all too familiar with this scene.

Van der Sar stood in front of the door, and that image suddenly flashed before his eyes.

Same position, same arc.

He remembered that the ball's trajectory was like magic: even though he had made the ultimate dive, the ball strangely changed direction at the last moment, grazing the inside of the post and going into the net.

"Oh shit."

He subconsciously took half a step toward the goalpost, wiping his gloves on his trouser leg.

After that match, he watched the video twenty times, but he still couldn't figure out how the ball went in.

Now this kid is standing in the same spot again, even his ball-setting motion is exactly the same.

Van der Sar shouted commands to the human wall: "Left! Further left! Cocu, don't block my view!"

Stam and Van Bronckhorst clutched their groin tightly, and the goalkeeper's tense, swaying figure could be seen through the gaps in the wall.

Roy took five steps back and stood still, his left toes slightly turned outward, and his right foot treading on the grass.

Suddenly, Overmars, inside the Dutch wall, grinned and shouted, "Rookie, that ball is going to fly into the stands!"

In the stands, Dürn Klos instinctively covered his mouth with a Dutch team scarf.

Three months ago in Amsterdam, on the very night Roy scored a free kick against the Dutch national team, they broke up.

This moment felt just like that moment before, inevitably stirring up her emotions.

Roy ignored the taunts, took a deep breath, and started his run-up.

The first three steps are small, quick steps. The moment the left foot lands on the fourth step, the whole body tilts like a fully drawn bow.

The Dutch wall squatted down in sync with his run-up, with Cocu even closing his eyes and tensing his muscles beforehand.

Just as he touched the ball, Roy's supporting foot suddenly rotated 15 degrees outward, and the inside of his right foot whipped the lower part of the ball like a whip.

The Dutch wall was lifted into the air.

But instead of shooting directly, he curled a low, flat shot with his right foot, the ball traveling at high speed straight towards the edge of the penalty area!

Trezeguet, who had been lurking near the penalty spot, suddenly made a run forward.

The ball landed precisely half a meter in front of him, bouncing off the ground the instant it touched the ground.

boom!
Trezeguet barely adjusted, using the momentum to leap into the air and execute a backflip!
Van der Sar was completely fooled by the reverse header, the ball hitting the inside of the far post and bouncing into the net!

3-1!

Trezeguet paused for a second after landing, then looked up at the ball in the goal.

He suddenly yelled at the top of his lungs, "Fuck!"

He spread his arms, turned and sprinted toward the corner flag, tugging at his jersey collar as he ran.

Roy caught up from behind, jumped up, and grabbed him by the neck.

Trezeguet was bent over by the weight, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

"Goal on the first touch!"

He yelled into Roy's ear.

63 minutes.

Sneijder made a forward run and took a long-range shot, which was blocked out of the penalty area by Pedretti's outstretched leg.

France launched a quick counter-attack. Vieira passed the ball from the middle to the right wing, where Giuly received the ball and suddenly swept it low across the face of the goal.

Roy appeared out of Heitinga like a ghost and volleyed a shot from the edge of the six-yard box!

Van der Sar reacted quickly, instinctively blocking with his right knee, and the ball slammed heavily against the crossbar and bounced out.

Van Bronckhorst swung his left foot and kicked the ball toward the center line.

66 minutes.

The Dutch team pressed forward with all their players, and Van der Meyde cut inside from the right and crossed the ball, which Sneijder followed up with a shot.

The ball went over the crossbar!

The French team immediately launched a quick counter-attack.

Roy received the ball with his back to goal near the center circle, executed a clever turn, and instantly shook off Sneijder, who had been closing in too aggressively.

He lowered his center of gravity, swung his legs rapidly, and sprinted at full speed along the right flank!
Dutch left-back Giovanni van Bronckhorst tried desperately to catch up, but could only watch as he was left further and further behind.

Roy suddenly stopped at the edge of the penalty area and passed the ball across to Trezeguet in the middle.

With his back to the goal, Trezeguet flicked the ball back with his heel, cleverly passing it to Zidane who was following up.

Zidane controlled the ball, flicked it past the onrushing Cocu, and then delivered a precise diagonal pass that pierced the Dutch defense!
Roy met the ball near the right sideline of the penalty area and, before the ball hit the ground, unleashed a powerful volley with his right foot!

"boom!"

The ball hurtled towards the near corner of the goal like a cannonball! Van der Sar made a diving save, but the ball was too fast and slammed into the net!

4-1!

The outcome of the match was already decided; the score of 4-1 meant there was no longer any suspense about the winner.

In the 78th minute, Santini made substitutions: Manchester United striker Saha came on as a substitute, replacing Roy; then he replaced Vieira with Dakur.

When the final whistle blew, Sneijder suddenly turned around, glaring fiercely at Stam, his eyes filled with anger.

Stam noticed the provocative look and turned to Coku beside him, muttering, "This kid really doesn't know his place!"

Coku shook his head helplessly and patted Stam on the shoulder.

Reporters on the sidelines keenly captured this tense scene, raising their cameras and snapping away in rapid succession.

(End of this chapter)