When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 180 The Stern Roy

At 5:30 a.m., Alvaro's taxi slowly drove along the empty streets.

The morning mist still shrouded the banks of the Tagus River when suddenly the hoarse voice of a sports commentator came through the radio:

"Good morning, early birds! This is Lisbon Morning Radio. Tonight!"

"Attention veterans! Since the 1988 European Championship in Germany, the host country has fallen in the semi-finals for four consecutive tournaments. This 'host country curse' has plagued the football world for a full 16 years!"

"But guys, historical data shows that whenever the host nation makes it to the final, they've never finished second! In the 11 editions of the European Championship, every host nation that reached the final has gone on to lift the trophy. So if our lads can win tonight, whether they face the Czech Republic or Greece in the final, we'll have a solid psychological advantage!"

As he listened, he glanced at the Benfica pendant swaying in the rearview mirror.

That was a birthday present his son gave him last year.

Upon hearing the "host curse," he scoffed and muttered under his breath, "To hell with the curse."

The passenger in the back put down his newspaper and suddenly asked, "Can we win?"

Alvaro paused for a moment, then tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel.

Only God knows.

He finally said, stepping on the gas and driving the passengers toward the gradually awakening Lisbon.

Just after 3 p.m., the Lisbon metro began to become extremely crowded.

The train carriage was packed with fans wearing red and green jerseys, and the sounds of their chatter echoed in the enclosed space.

"That kid Roy is too fast. Can our Carvalho and Andrade stop him?"

"Last season in the Champions League, he completely tore apart Deportivo La Coruña's defense, as well as Porto."

"Zidane is 32 years old."

"Let Maniche go up and give him some intensity; I guarantee he'll be taken off early."

A cold laugh came from the corner: "Henry? He's great at Arsenal, but he turns into a spineless coward when he puts on the French national team jersey! He didn't score a single goal in the last World Cup."

"Those Porto lads got thrashed by Roy in last year's Champions League. Will they go weak in the knees if they face him again today? Costa is nowhere near Deco's level now."

“Figo has been in good form lately,” someone interjected, “but our future depends on that Manchester United kid – Cristiano is only 19, and Quaresma won’t be around for another two years.”

"Don't even mention Quaresma!"

Someone suddenly raised their voice, "At this time last year, everyone was saying he was the new Figo, but he couldn't even get a place on the bench at Barcelona."

The oldest fan sighed, "If someone of Pauleta's caliber can be a starter, when will Portugal produce another Eusebio?"

The carriage fell silent for a few seconds.

At each stop, new voices joined the discussion.

Some people were flipping through the pre-match special edition, while others were exchanging various rumors.

The train doors opened and closed with difficulty, and each time the attendant had to shout loudly to get the fans blocking the doorway to squeeze in a little more.

Vendors had set up their stalls early in the morning on the streets surrounding the stadium.

The smoke from grilled sausages mingled with the red and green colors of the national flag, creating a sea of ​​jubilation.

A long queue had already formed in front of the makeshift beer stand, with the clinking of plastic cups echoing throughout.

On the way to the stadium, fans spontaneously sang cheering songs.

At first, it was just a few people, but it quickly spread like a contagious disease.

The singing grew more synchronized and louder until even passing cars started honking and tapping their horns in time with it.

Outside the stadium, crowds surged in from all directions like a tide.

Some people held up homemade signs, some had face paint on, and others carried huge national flags.

Long lines formed at the security checkpoints, but no one complained about the wait; everyone's face was filled with anticipation.

As the start time approached, all the lights around the stadium came on.

The beams of searchlights pierced the twilight, illuminating the entire stadium as if it were daytime.

The cheers from the sidelines grew louder and louder, and the deafening roar could be heard several kilometers away.

The Portuguese team bus slowly drove towards the stadium, and Cristiano Ronaldo stared blankly out the window at the cheering fans.

He clenched his fists, both eager to prove himself and afraid that even after giving it his all, he would only be able to watch that person's back walk further and further away.

Among the jerseys of Figo and Costa scattered all over the street, he suddenly spotted a few children holding up their own number 17 jerseys.

The emotion and fear were equally intense at this moment: if he lost tonight, would these arms waving for him turn to someone else forever?

The French team bus then arrived, and several French fans suddenly rushed out from the crowd.

They waved Roy's number 11 jersey and screamed hysterically, "Demon King! Tear them apart!"

A reporter from France 1 stood outside the Estádio da Luz, with a sea of ​​red, green and blue people surging behind him.

He held the headset with one hand, the microphone to his mouth, while behind him, the French fans chanted "Roy the Devil" and the Portuguese fans shouted "Figo, come on!"

The red lights of the cameras on the broadcast truck flashed, transmitting this night of the European Cup, a mixture of paint, sweat, and anticipation, to the television screens of millions of French homes.

"Dear viewers, this is a live report from France 1 television outside the Estádio da Luz in Lisbon."

"A remarkable historical cycle is unfolding – 20 years ago, it was our French team that won the championship as the host country, and the team that caused us the most trouble in that tournament was none other than our opponent tonight, Portugal."

“1984年半决赛的场景老球迷们一定记忆犹新：葡萄牙人在加时赛第115分钟还以2-1领先，若尔的进球几乎要把我们送回家。但多梅尔戈第119分钟的扳平球，以及普拉蒂尼第120分钟的绝杀，创造了欧洲杯史上最戏剧性的逆转之一。”

"Perhaps it was that victory that exhausted all the host country's luck, and for the next 16 years a strange 'host country curse' formed - the host country fell in the semi-finals of four consecutive European Championships. Starting with Germany in 1988, Sweden in 1992, England in 1996, and the Netherlands and Belgium in 2000, without exception."

"Roy has now scored 6 goals in 4 matches in this tournament, just 3 away from Platini's record of 9 goals in a single tournament. Tonight, can he lead the French team over Portugal? Can he recreate the legendary summer of 20 years ago that belonged to Platini?"

"Tonight, when the Portuguese face France at home again after 20 years, a new chapter will be written in this history of rivalry. Will the host nation's curse continue, or will the Portuguese replicate our past glory? The answer will be revealed in this stadium. Pierre, hand the camera back to the studio."

Roy spoke calmly but confidently into the reporter's microphone:

“Figo is a true legend; he is one of the most important idols I have grown up with. Ronaldo’s performance is amazing, and there is no doubt that he will become one of the best players in the future. The Portuguese team is very strong overall, but to be honest, most of the players in this team – Deco, Maniche, and Carvalho from Porto, Figo from Real Madrid, and Andrade from Deportivo La Coruña – we faced and won against them in the Champions League last season.”

"There are only three Portuguese players I haven't faced yet: Ricardo, the goalkeeper for Sporting Lisbon; Miguel, for Benfica; and Cristiano Ronaldo for Manchester United. But that won't affect my confidence; we are ready."

When the rousing Euro 2016 theme song resounded throughout the Stadium of Light, the entire stadium erupted in cheers.

A sea of ​​red and green waves rolled across the stands as the host fans waved huge national flags, their cheers rising higher and higher.

At the other end of the field, the blue and white formation was equally impressive.

Despite the official allocation of only 7,000 away tickets, many French fans, like the English before them, indirectly purchased tickets from locals at high prices, effectively taking over half of the away games.

The two colored formations were clearly distinguished under the lights, and the cheers, songs, and drumbeats mingled together, making people's eardrums vibrate.

As the music reached its climax, all 80,000+ spectators stood up in unison, turning the stadium into a boiling cauldron that even made the stars in the night sky tremble.

The French team filed out of the players' tunnel.

Zidane and Barthez were the first to step onto the pitch, and enthusiastic cheers immediately erupted from the stands.

Henry followed closely behind, and the cheers from the French fans grew even louder.

When Roy appeared, the entire blue and white formation instantly erupted in cheers.

The shouts of "Demon King! Demon King!" drowned out all other sounds.

Several crazed fans jumped over the railing, waving huge number 11 jerseys and shouting Roy's name at the top of their lungs, until they were dragged away by security personnel.

Cristiano Ronaldo, walking in the Portuguese contingent, kept his eyes fixed ahead, seemingly oblivious to the commotion behind him.

The young winger didn't turn around when Roy spoke to him with a smile in the tunnel.

Then Figo patted him on the shoulder and whispered a few words in his ear.

Cristiano Ronaldo nodded slightly and strode onto the pitch with his senior. The red and green stands immediately erupted in even louder cheers, completely drowning out the French fans' shouts.

He bent down and touched the turf, as if to confirm that the field would belong to them tonight.

Figo waved to the stands, drawing an even more enthusiastic response from the Portuguese fans.

As the referee blew his whistle, Ronaldo took a deep breath and gently passed the ball to Pauleta.

The stadium erupted in a deafening roar, with waves of red and green cheers surging through the stands.

The ball was quickly passed between the Portuguese players, and the French team immediately launched an organized pressing.

Roy dashed forward from the right flank like a blue lightning bolt.

A confident smile played on his lips as he moved with light and precise steps.

On the other side, Ronaldo unconsciously followed Roy's figure out of the corner of his eye, but quickly looked away and focused on his own movement.

The pace of the game became increasingly fast, and every touch of the ball by the players from both teams captivated the hearts of the entire stadium.

When Portugal passed the ball around in their own half, France's pressing system immediately kicked in.

Henry and Roy formed a pincer movement to block passing lanes, while Vieira and Makelele effectively controlled the midfield.

Carvalho's two attempts to pass forward were blocked, forcing him to pass back to goalkeeper Ricardo.

When the ball came to Ronaldo's feet on the left wing, Gallas immediately closed in.

Cristiano Ronaldo stumbled a few times during the challenge, but turned with a beautiful backheel flick, managing to protect possession of the ball despite losing his balance.

A gasp of amazement erupted from the stands as he quickly adjusted his balance and delivered a precise diagonal pass to Deco in the middle.

Just as Deco was about to receive the ball, Makelele was right there beside him.

Portugal's attack stalled again, forcing them to pass the ball back and reorganize.

France's defensive formation remained tight throughout, like a meticulously woven net, repeatedly neutralizing Portugal's attacks.

When Portugal's backfield was in a stalemate, Carvalho suddenly launched a long pass over the top, the ball bypassing Roy and Henry who were pressing in the French attacking third, and accurately finding Figo on the right wing.

At this moment, Roy immediately abandoned his pressing and began to retreat at a steady pace to find the best position for a counterattack.

Facing Lizarazu's defense, Figo first made a sudden stop and change of direction, then used his signature outside-of-the-foot technique to send the ball to Deco's feet in the middle.

Makelele immediately stepped forward to block, but Deco, without stopping the ball, made a diagonal pass into the open space on the left wing.

Cristiano Ronaldo surged forward like lightning, and it looked like he was about to create a one-on-one opportunity.

At that moment, Thuram, who had tracked back to defend, made a precise sliding tackle to clear the ball out of bounds.

Deco stood in the corner flag, ready to take the corner, and chaos erupted in the penalty area.

Makelele was sticking close to Ronaldo, and the two were constantly shoving each other on the edge of the penalty area.

"Curly-haired kid," the French midfielder grinned, giving the Portuguese youngster a hard bump with his shoulder, "can you head the ball in?"

Ronaldo didn't answer, but forcefully shook off his opponent's pull and suddenly made a run towards the near post.

The corner kick had already been taken, and Maniche leaped high at the far post, overpowering the defender.

Makelele then realized he had been tricked and hurriedly turned back to fill the gap, but it was too late.

The ball arced towards the top right corner of the goal, and Barthez leaped into the air, tipping the ball over the crossbar with one hand.

Barthez's long kick found Vieira directly, and the French team instantly switched from defense to attack.

Vieira looked up and delivered a precise long pass over the top to Roy, who was making a run down the right flank.

Roy sped off like a cheetah, deftly controlling the ball before it hit the ground.

Facing the onrushing Nuno Valente, he suddenly stopped and changed direction, causing the Portuguese left-back to stumble and lose his balance.

Roy seized the opportunity to accelerate again, and was about to break into the penalty area.

Seeing this, Andrade immediately came to cover, but Roy suddenly dribbled past him with a croquet move, creating a shooting angle in a very tight space.

His right-footed shot was aimed straight at the near post, but Andrade desperately stretched out his leg to interfere, and the ball changed its trajectory slightly, grazing the post and going out of bounds.

Goalkeeper Ricardo broke out in a cold sweat and knelt on the ground, letting out a long sigh of relief.

In just two minutes, the two sides traded blows, their offense and defense flowing smoothly, and the cheers from the stands rose one after another.

Cristiano Ronaldo ran back and forth on the left flank, but his eyes were always following Roy's figure.

That blue-shirted number 11 was like a sophisticated machine.

Every touch of the ball was perfectly timed, and every run tore apart Portugal's defense.

When Roy got the ball again, Ronaldo unconsciously stopped to observe.

With a simple shoulder drop feint, the Frenchman fooled Nuno Valente, then deftly flicked the ball with the outside of his foot, sending it past Costinha's feet.

The pass found Giuly making a precise run, almost creating a one-on-one opportunity.

"too fast"

Cristiano Ronaldo wiped his sweat and silently recited in his mind.

Roy's every movement was swift and decisive; even the simplest ball control and turn exuded an innate elegance.

What's even more frightening is that he always manages to choose the most reasonable approach at the most opportune moment.

He either speaks or acts suddenly, never seeking personal credit.

Giuly's one-on-one opportunity failed, and he passed the ball back to France, who then reorganized their attack.

Roy controlled the ball steadily on the right sideline, while Ronaldo began his sprint from ten meters away.

The young Portuguese player's eyes burned with fierce determination. He signaled Nuno Valente to block the outside shot, while he and Costinha formed a double-team.

Roy controlled the ball steadily on the sideline, and Ronaldo immediately stepped close, pressing his chest against Roy's back and secretly pulling on the hem of his jersey with his left hand.

But Roy remained unmoved, gently flicking and twisting the ball with his right foot, as if it were glued to the arch of his foot, no matter how much Ronaldo pushed, it wouldn't budge.

After failing to break through in their first encounter, Ronaldo changed his strategy.

He suddenly stepped back, creating half a body distance, as if to steal the ball.

Roy keenly noticed this change, and with a gesture of his right foot moving the ball towards the inside, he pulled the ball back with the sole of his foot at the moment of contact.

Cristiano Ronaldo was tricked into tilting his weight forward and stumbled a couple of steps.

Just as Ronaldo closed in for the third time, Roy flicked his toe away.

The ball obediently rose into the air, and at the same time, it completed an elegant turn.

Before the ball even hit the ground, Roy had already unleashed a precise long pass with the instep of his foot.

The ball traveled 40 meters and landed perfectly in front of Zidane.

The entire movement was fluid and seamless; Ronaldo stood still, watching the ball fly over his head.

Amid cheers from the French fans, Roy had already run to the next receiving point, leaving his opponents with only a dashing silhouette.

Suddenly Roy turned to him, shrugged, and gave him a smile that was somewhere between apologetic and teasing, before quickly launching into an attack.

That smile stung Ronaldo's pride more than any mockery.

Because it contains the tolerance of a senior towards a junior, as if saying, "You still need to practice more."

(Put a little padding in first.)

(End of this chapter)