When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 196 I just want to help you remember who to build your team around.

On the evening of July 20, after holding a press conference, Roy declined Desailly and Makelele's invitation to go to a bar to celebrate.

"Let's do it another day, guys."

He patted Makelele on the shoulder. "I want to go home early today."

The driver skillfully maneuvered the vehicle along a familiar route towards the residential area near the Harrington training base.

In less than ten minutes, the car turned onto a quiet street and slowly stopped in front of a four-bedroom detached villa.

The driver quietly reminded him, "We've arrived, Mr. Roy."

Roy nodded, picked up his backpack and got out of the car. The villa's lights shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto the lawn in front of the door.

He took out his keys, pushed open the door, and went inside, the sound of the Land Rover's engine gradually fading away behind him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several media vehicles parked not far away, with antennas on their roofs.

On the community road, a few pedestrians returning home late slowed down, glanced in this direction, and then quickly lowered their heads and hurried away.

When Roy opened the door, the television in the living room was playing cartoons.

Luo Mi, barefoot and curled up on the sofa, immediately turned around when she heard the noise: "Brother! You're back!"

She was also holding a half-eaten bag of potato chips in her arms.

Upon hearing the car, the security personnel at the outer house had already activated the main house's security system.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, you can see them patrolling the yard.

Roy casually draped his training jacket over the back of the chair, and couldn't help but reach out and ruffle his sister's messy hair.

"why are not you sleeping?"

Roy glanced at the books spread out on the coffee table.

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the titles of "What If? Those Strange and Worrying Questions," "The Feast of Elements," and "Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind (Picture Book Edition)."

This child only reads strange and unusual books.

He casually flipped through the books; they weren't exactly inappropriate for children, but they seemed too profound for an 11-year-old girl.

"Oh well," Roy thought, "it's better than watching mindless cartoons all day."

He closed the book, noticing the slightly curled corners from being turned over; clearly, Romy genuinely liked these books.

Although it's not quite appropriate for her age, since she can understand it, why should we stop her?

"Brother, I just heard the security guard say that there are a lot of people outside with cameras."

Roy frowned, walked to the French windows, and pulled the curtains closed tightly.

Through the gap, he saw several blinding flashes of light outside the villa fence, and several dark figures were peering in this direction with telephoto lenses.

He clicked his tongue softly, turned around, took two cartons of yogurt from the refrigerator, and handed the strawberry-flavored one to his sister.

"Hurry up and finish your drink and go to sleep," he glanced at his watch. "I'm flying to the US tomorrow to participate in preseason training."

Romy jumped up immediately: "I want to go too! I can help you pack your sneakers, and I can also—"

“No,” Roy interrupted her, his tone becoming serious. “You have to go to school on time in September. Besides, this training camp is a closed training camp, not a trip for fun. This is an important job for your brother.”

Romi immediately pouted, her eyes starting to redden: "But..."

She feigned a pitiful look, but only lasted a few seconds before tugging at Roy's sleeve and shaking it: "Brother~ can I not go to elementary school? I should at least be in middle school, right? I can do all the problems now, the teacher is too slow."

Roy then realized what was going on.

So that was her real purpose. He looked down at his sister and noticed an unusual seriousness in her eyes.

Roy crouched down and asked softly, "Is it because your classmates don't like to play with you?"

Romy turned her head away, clutching the corner of her pajamas, and muttered, "No... it's just that I don't want to play with kids. They're too stupid."

His tone carried a hint of impatience, yet also a touch of childish grievance.

Looking at her stubborn profile, Roy suddenly remembered that he was like that when he was a child.

Feeling that his peers couldn't keep up with his thinking, he simply buried himself in playing football alone.

He reached out and ruffled his sister's hair: "Being smart is a good thing, but there will always be someone smarter than you. Don't live like an island."

Romi snorted defiantly, but her eyes softened.

She kicked the crooked dinosaur on her slipper and muttered, "At least... at least let me skip a grade."

Outside the window, the security guard's flashlight beam shone across the lawn, startling a few fireflies that seemed to be catching fireflies in the summer night.

Those faint points of light flickered in the darkness, just like Romi's stubborn yet lonely thoughts at that moment.

The next day, when the entire Chelsea team boarded the chartered plane to the United States, the cabin was as lively as a locker room.

The flight attendants helped Roy and the tall Drogba settle their luggage.

After the two sat down side by side, Drogba said with a smile in French, "Hey, we meet again, old rivals."

Roy nodded and took the chewing gum offered to him.

"Now I should call you my teammate."

They sat side by side, chatting about their past encounters in Ligue 1. Drogba would occasionally burst into hearty laughter, drawing the attention of his teammates in the front row.

The players gathered in small groups, and the conversation revolved entirely around the recent war of words between Manchester United and Chelsea.

At the same time that Drogba officially joined Chelsea, the club also completed two other transfers: signing midfielder Thiago Mendes from Benfica for €1500 million, and spending €1700 million to bring in Roy's former teammate, French defender Eric Abidal.

The two new signings will fly directly to the United States to join the team.

In contrast to Chelsea's heavy spending in the transfer market, Manchester United manager Sir Alex Ferguson has remained unmoved, displaying his usual cautious style. So far, he has only spent £1390 million to buy forwards Alan Smith and Heinze, plus Liam Miller.

Manchester United recently signed Alan Smith. In response to Chelsea's big-money transfer, Alan Smith said: "Manchester United has never been insecure because of anyone. Although I haven't been with Manchester United for long, I've found that they have the belief and ability to win trophies. What other clubs do and how much they spend on players doesn't affect us here. We care about winning trophies."

Although Ferguson greatly admires Rooney, it remains uncertain whether the Manchester United board will be willing to pay a high price for the young striker after missing out on Roy.

Regarding the media's criticism of Manchester United's poor transfer dealings, Ferguson coldly pointed out:
"Do Chelsea have better players? It's hard to say. It's clear that money isn't an issue for them, but the question is whether they can select the right players."

Just two days later, Mourinho immediately retorted: "I completely agree with Ferguson. If we go back a few months, we can look at Porto, whose entire squad was only one-tenth the value of Manchester United. See, he's absolutely right."

Those around him immediately recognized the sarcasm in Mourinho's words, referring to the fact that it was his Porto team that had personally knocked Manchester United out of the Champions League quarterfinals.

Before the Premier League season even started, a unique "verbal battle" had already begun.

Roy sat on a flight to the United States, reading the newspaper about the two men's verbal sparring, and he found the scene extremely interesting.

But considering Ferguson's previous sincerity towards him, he ultimately refrained from mocking Manchester United.

After all, he has always had a good impression of Manchester United.

After a nine-hour flight, the entire Chelsea team arrived in Seattle, USA, to begin their preseason tour.

This is Chelsea's first US tour since Abramovich took over, with the main purpose of helping new signings integrate into the team as quickly as possible, while also promoting the club's brand.

The team will visit Seattle, Philadelphia and New York to play three friendly matches against the Celtics, Roma and AC Milan respectively.

Unlike in the past, Nike successfully replaced Umbro as Chelsea's interim sponsor after paying the penalty for breach of contract.

Thanks to Nike's full cooperation, Chelsea received much greater publicity and promotion for this US preseason, with commercial influence far exceeding that of the past.

On July 22, Chelsea held a fan meet-and-greet at Seattle's iconic Space Needle.

Although the crowd wasn't as huge as Manchester United's popularity in the United States, a considerable number of fans still showed up.

Many of them came specifically to see Roy. His brilliant performances in the Champions League and the European Championship, coupled with his rebellious personality and controversial stories, along with Nike's heavy promotion, made this French star unexpectedly popular among American fans.

On July 23, the entire Chelsea team went to the Seattle Sounders' training ground for a joint training session.

During the two-hour training session, players from both sides were mixed into groups and focused on passing and cutting combinations and group scrimmage drills.

Mourinho and the Gulfmans coaching staff discussed tactical details on the sidelines throughout the training session, with Chelsea's new signings Roy, Drogba, Robben, and others becoming the focus of attention.

After the training session, the players from both teams exchanged jerseys and took a group photo. About 500 local fans watched the open training session.

On July 24, the Champions World Tour kicked off with Chelsea facing Scottish Premiership side Celtic at Qwest Field in Seattle.

Before the match began, Chelsea captain Desailly sat on the bench, with the captain's armband worn by Terry. In defense, Gallas was absent due to injury, Gudjohnsen started as the center forward, and Mutu, who had just returned to the team, surprisingly made his first start.

Three new signings who have yet to make their Chelsea debuts are sitting on the bench: goalkeeper Petr Cech, striker Didier Drogba, and winger Arjen Robben.

According to the special rules of the Champions World Tour, each team is allowed up to seven substitutions in this match.

For Celtic, striker Chris Sutton is in the spotlight. The English striker previously played for Chelsea in 2000, and this match will be his first time facing his former club since leaving the Blues.

In Chelsea's dressing room, Mourinho's gaze swept across the faces of the players one by one.

New signings Abidal and Thiago Mendes have integrated into the team. Although Abramovich is not optimistic about his favorite player Paulo Ferreira, the contract for the young Brazilian full-back Maicon has been finalized.

This kid has good talent and is a promising prospect. He will join the team after the Copa America.

With Gala able to rotate with him, the right flank's offense and defense are finally secured.

Mourinho was considering adjustments to the defense.

Although Abidal plays as a left center-back for Monaco, he would prefer to convert the French defender back to a left-back.

The prerequisite is that he can successfully sign his old subordinate Carvalho to anchor the midfield.

Right now, Mourinho's biggest concern is Carvalho's transfer.

Although Real Madrid has already spent a lot of money to sign Samuel, they are still closely pursuing the Portuguese center-back.

Florentino wants to completely overhaul the defense, and his offer and terms are quite tempting.

At the negotiating table, Chelsea hadn't yet secured a 100% guarantee, which made Mourinho somewhat anxious.

He knew that if he missed out on Carvalho, the entire rebuilding plan for the defense would have to be adjusted.

However, even if Mourinho ultimately fails to secure Carvalho's signature, he won't be without options.

He eventually agreed to let Desailly stay, and with versatile players like Abidal and Gallas who can play on the flanks and in the center, the defense would at least not be short-handed.

However, he plans to make Desailly a substitute more often in the new season. Although the veteran captain's form has declined, he can relieve pressure on Makelele and Gremi by anchoring the defense or playing as a defensive midfielder in crucial moments.

Thinking about it that way, the roster depth is barely enough.

As for Glen Johnson on the right wing, he's no longer in his plans; he'll either loan him out or sell him outright.

Starting lineup: Cudicini; Glen Johnson, Terry, Huth, Bridge; Gremi, Smertin, Joe Cole; Mutu on the right wing, Gudjohnsen at center forward, Roy on the left wing.

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the locker room, and added in a steady tone, "Roy, your task today is to break down their defense. I want to see you play like you did in the Champions League final."

Roy nodded after listening.

He turned around and walked back to his locker, picked up the blue number 10 jersey, put it on, and tucked the hem into his shorts.

The locker room lights shone on the numbers, and the embossed "10" reflected the light slightly.

In the locker room, Chelsea's players couldn't help but look at Roy.

I had only seen this young striker on TV before. Although I had experienced his strength in training, this was the first time I had played alongside him in an official match.

Many people looked on with curiosity and anticipation, wanting to see what kind of waves he could create on the field.

Meanwhile, Cech, Drogba, and Robben, who had all faced Roy, remained calm.

They already knew how terrifying this guy was.

Terry carefully wrapped the captain's armband around his left arm, clapped his hands, and gathered the whole team together.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Desailly; the old captain's face was grim, but he ultimately remained silent.

Terry thought to himself that Mourinho's decision to have him wear the armband today was tacit approval of a power shift.

The Portuguese supported him becoming captain.

His gaze swept over the French group: Roy was chewing gum and chatting with Abidal, Gala was tying his shoelaces, and Makelele was expressionless.

Five French people are enough to form a small group.
He clapped his hands forcefully to gather the team, his voice deliberately kept calm: "Come here, everyone, I have a few final words to say."

His voice was deep and powerful: "Listen, guys, today is not just a friendly match. American fans are watching, the whole world is watching Chelsea's new season. Roy, Drogba, Cech, I know you are all tough guys, but here, we are a team."

He paused deliberately until Roy looked up at him. "Nobody's going to act like a big shot on the field today."

He patted Glen Johnson on the shoulder again: "Glen, it's time to prove yourself."

Finally, Terry looked around and raised his voice: "Remember, no matter where you come from, wearing this blue means you're brothers. Whether you're English, French, Dutch, Czech, or Ivorian, winning is the only thing that matters."

This was a warning to the French group. He didn't mean anything by it, just that the French shouldn't be too arrogant.

It was also meant for Desailly's ears.
He then glanced at Roy several times. Roy stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled and patted Terry on the shoulder: "Don't worry, Captain."

But he said Skipper (a colloquial term referring to the team captain), not Captain.
Facing the wealthy and powerful Chelsea, the entire Celtic team had only one thought in mind – to avoid being thrashed 4-0 by Manchester United like last season.

The stands at Seattle's Quest Stadium were filled with all sorts of people.

Although most local fans were dressed casually, the southeast corner of the stands was filled with many English faces.

British immigrants working at Microsoft, Boeing, Starbucks, Costco, and Amazon waved England team scarves, their British-accented cheers standing out against the sea of ​​American accents.

Several blue, white and red flags fluttered in the north stand, where a group of French immigrants were talking and laughing loudly in French.

Among them were many Asian faces, including Chinese families with children, holding homemade bilingual encouragement signs.

Whenever the big screen pans across a close-up of a particular player, this area erupts in louder applause than the other stands.

As the stadium announcer broadcast the lineups for both teams in English, shouts in different languages ​​rose and fell from the stands.

You can hear "Come on Chelsea" in English, "Allez, le Roi Démon!" in French, and even occasionally a few words of "加油" (Jiayou, meaning "Go Chelsea!") in Chinese.

In the queue at the hot dog stand, fans wearing jerseys of different national teams were excitedly exchanging words in accented English.

Roy jogged along the sideline to warm up, and his simple stretching exercises caused a stir in the stands.

A few young girls in the front row suddenly squeezed to the railing, taking pictures incessantly, pushing and shoving each other, pointing and gesturing.

"Look at that guy with black hair!"

Cheerleader Jessica, wearing a crop top, suddenly grabbed her best friend Lisa's arm, her rhinestone-encrusted nails sparkling in the sunlight.

Three blonde girls were leaning against the railing, still wearing the SuperSonics' training shorts, their tanned legs glistening in the sunlight.

They all wore matching high ponytails with the ends dyed the most fashionable gradient gold, and when they smiled, they showed their perfect eight teeth.

She's the epitome of a sweetheart straight out of an American teen movie.

“He’s definitely watching us,” Lisa said, sticking bubblegum under a bleacher seat and snapping photos with her camera. “He’s way more interesting than Ray Allen!”

Jessica grabbed Lisa's arm and whispered, "Listen, didn't you manage to get a date with that Giants linebacker last year? I found out they're staying at the Sheraton Hotel, and Rachel said no one checks the freight elevator on the east side of the players' tunnel. Do you think I should pretend to be an ESPN intern and knock on their door, or should I just hang out at the hotel bar tonight?"

Lisa: "So old-fashioned! When they order room service after curfew, wear something light and fluffy, and put some glitter on your shoulders. The British love this kind of bling-bling stunner."

Jessica: "What if his teammates open the door? And he's French."

Lisa: "Then say you need room service? Those wolves will definitely drag you in. Remember to sit right on Roy's lap and say in fucking filthy English, 'Want to break my back, footballer?'"

The NBA's explicit rules act like a high wall, effectively separating any romantic possibilities between players and cheerleaders.

But those girls in sparkly miniskirts had no intention of stopping there.

They turned their attention to the neighboring rugby stadium, Major League Baseball, and even European football stars.

These girls have long since mastered the art of flirting to the point of instinct.

After the game, they would sneak into the player tunnel under the guise of interviews, and then fall into the arms of their target with a fake fall, or precisely block a lone European player in the VIP section of the stands.

Those soccer stars who were new to the United States had never seen anything like this before, and they often fell for it without even realizing it, since they were always powerless against American enthusiasm.

These kinds of little anecdotes often pop up every now and then when European teams come to the United States for friendly matches.

However, the clubs have learned their lesson and usually just bribe someone to settle things.

Anyway, these cheerleaders don't ask for much; sometimes they can even be satisfied with a brand-new bag.

However, occasionally one might encounter a difficult person, with someone giving advice behind the scenes, causing the matter to escalate into a major scandal and eventually turn into a mess like the Eagle County incident.

As Roy bent down to tie his shoelaces, another cheer erupted from the stands.

The security guard on the sidelines frowned, glanced at the crowd, shook his head, and continued to maintain order.

After warming up, Roy moved to the left wing.

The referee blew his whistle, and Chelsea kicked off from the center circle.

Gudjohnsen gently passed the ball to Joe Cole, who quickly passed it back to Terry.

Celtic displayed intense pressure from the start, with forwards Sutton and Beattie pouncing on Chelsea's backline like hungry wolves, while midfielders Silas and Mennon pressed forward as well, effectively shutting down the Blues' passing lanes.

Terry barely managed to control the ball under double coverage from the Celtics, and Beatty's sliding tackle almost grazed his ankle.

The Chelsea captain stumbled slightly, but regained his balance with experience and, at the last second, made a diagonal pass to Roy, who had dropped back to receive the pass.

Roy received the ball with his back to goal, and Petrov was already close behind him, his chest almost pressing against his back.

He lightly hooked his left foot, pretending to turn and break through, and then lowered his shoulder to the right. Petrov was indeed caught off guard and his center of gravity shifted slightly.

In that instant, Roy suddenly used his right heel to flick the ball to his left.

The ball passed precisely between Petrov's outstretched legs!

He then swiftly slid in the opposite direction, separating himself from the ball, and in the blink of an eye, he shook off the defense.

The Celtics' pressing formation was instantly torn open.

They hurriedly covered for him, but Roy had already dribbled the ball into the heart of midfield, and Chelsea's counter-attack began.

Roy dribbled forward two steps, then suddenly slowed down, pretending to pass the ball to the wing.

Celtic's defensive midfielder Mennon fell for the trick, shifting his weight slightly to the left.

In that instant, Roy flicked the ball to the right with his left foot and suddenly accelerated past Mennon!

He paused briefly at the edge of the penalty area and looked up to observe.

Celtic center-back Vargalen thought he was about to take a long-range shot and rushed forward to block him.

But Roy curled a strange, low, curved shot with the outside of his right foot.

As if by magic, the ball bypassed Baldr's outstretched toe and passed precisely through the gap between McManus and Vargalen!

Mutu clearly hadn't expected that pass.

He was a beat too slow to get going, and although he managed to reach the ball, his shooting angle had been blocked by Herdman. His hasty shot went wide of the far post.

Mourinho stood on the sidelines with his arms crossed and his face ashen.

In the 7th minute, Roy received the ball in midfield and made two sudden stops and changes of direction, causing McManus to lose his balance and slip to the ground.

Roy didn't try to score himself, instead passing the ball across to Bridge who had made a run, whose cross was caught by goalkeeper Herdman.

11 minutes.

Joe Cole delivered a powerful through ball from the center circle, sending the ball straight into the space behind the Celtics defense.

Vargalen judged that the pass was too long and was about to turn around to clear the ball.

Roy suddenly sprang out like a spring! He sprinted forward, taking three steps at a time, and just before the ball went out of bounds, he poked it between Vargaren's legs with his toe!
The Celtic center-back hurriedly turned around to chase back, only to see Roy already accelerating violently a second time.

The moment their shoulders touched, Vargaren was thrown two body lengths away.

When Roy dribbled into the penalty area, the opposing team didn't even have a chance to grab his jersey.

He dribbled into the left side of the penalty area, and Hedmann hurriedly blocked the near post.

But Roy gave the goalkeeper no time to react, unleashing a powerful shot from an almost zero-degree angle!
The ball slammed into the top corner of the near post like a cannonball, hitting the inside of the side netting hard.

1-0!

The entire Quest Stadium erupted in cheers.

Roy sprinted to the corner flag and slid to his knees in celebration, with a stunned Vargaren standing behind him.

The 1.9-meter-tall center-back was like a heavy wooden stake at that moment, and there wasn't even time to commit a foul.

Celtic goalkeeper Herdman was so angry that he kicked the ball out of the net; he should have covered that angle.

Mourinho raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly, while Abramovich on the sidelines shook his head silently.

Crespo and Mutu, who were acquired for a hefty sum last season, now pale in comparison to Roy's brilliance.

For the next twelve minutes, Roy turned the left flank into his own territory.

When attacking, he is as precise as a scalpel.

Whether it's quickly getting rid of the ball after receiving it with his back to goal, or suddenly stopping and changing direction during a high-speed breakthrough, every touch of the ball is clean and crisp.

Celtic's right-back McManus was completely outmaneuvered by him, sometimes outpaced by his speed, and sometimes thrown off balance by his feints.

Roy's passes were incredibly precise, sometimes piercing the defense to find Mutu, and sometimes crossing to the middle to create shooting opportunities for his teammates.

On the defensive end, Roy also spared no effort.

When the Celtics try to launch a counterattack from his side, he always manages to track back and disrupt the play, sometimes even intercepting the ball and immediately initiating a fast break.

His presence made Chelsea's left flank extremely sharp, and McManus's forward runs were completely suppressed.

The Celtic manager was stomping his feet in frustration on the sidelines, forcing midfielder Wallace to frequently provide cover, but this only made their right-wing attack weaker.

Roy's dominant performance allowed Chelsea to completely control the pace of the game during this period.

In the 23rd minute, Chelsea extended their lead!

Roy received a pass from Geremi near the center circle, and facing Sylla's challenge, he accelerated past her with a change of direction.

Mennon rushed to cover, but Roy twisted his right foot and then used his left foot to complete another breakthrough.

When he reached the edge of the penalty area, Balde had already blocked him.

Roy didn't force his way through, but instead deftly chipped the ball over the goalkeeper.

The ball arced through the air, past the onrushing Herdmann, and nestled into the empty net! 2-0!

Robben, standing on the sidelines, stared wide-eyed and unconsciously shook his head.

This Dutch winger is known for his explosive power, but Roy's ball control at this moment was simply unbelievable.

That freakish talent of being able to precisely control the distance of each touch while advancing at high speed, and that terrifying explosive power that can shake off the defense the moment it starts moving from a standstill, are far more formidable than him.

The Celtics attempted to adjust their defense, with Petrov and Wallace frequently helping to defend the left flank.

But in the 37th minute, Roy struck again.

He received the ball on the left flank, and facing Agath's defense, he suddenly cut inside and changed direction, directly causing the opponent to fall to the ground!
Before Vargalen could get close to cover, Roy curled a right-footed shot into the top right corner of the goal!
Herdman's all-out diving save was to no avail, 3-0!

Roy completes a hat trick!

The Celtics players looked at each other in dismay, while their head coach on the sidelines looked grim.

They simply couldn't find a way to restrain Roy.

Mourinho stood in the technical area with his hands in his pockets and a slight smile on his lips.

He glanced at Thiago, who was warming up on the bench, and suddenly realized that not getting Deco wasn't such a big deal.

Roy doesn't need a traditional attacking midfielder to orchestrate the offense; he can complete breakthroughs, passes, and playmaking all by himself on the wing.

With such explosive potential, does the lack of a playmaker in midfield really matter?

43 minutes.

Chelsea intercepted the ball in their own half and passed it to Roy, who quickly started his run and used his speed to outrun Petrov who was chasing back.

As he dribbled the ball to the vicinity of the midfield line, he keenly observed that Mutu had already made a run down the right flank and decisively passed the ball to him.

Mutu, after receiving the ball, did not try to score himself, but instead passed it across to Smertin, who was making a run into the middle.

The Russian midfielder took two steps to adjust, then suddenly cut inside and moved laterally to shake off the covering defender Balde, before unleashing a left-footed shot from 25 meters out.

The ball traced an outward-spinning arc, heading straight for the top left corner of the goal!
At halftime, Chelsea led 4-0.

The Celtics' defense was completely breached, and every time Roy touched the ball, the home fans held their breath.

His speed and exquisite technique completely overwhelmed his opponents.

Roy strode toward the players' tunnel, casually pulling up the front of his soaked jersey and shaking it.

He didn't look at anyone in particular, but the cameras at Quest Stadium, the glances from the bench, and the chatter in the locker room should have made it clear:
Number 10? Winger? Screw the role, I'm king no matter where I play.

As he passed the technical area, he gestured with his chin toward Mourinho, his eyes clearly saying, "I'm just helping you remember who to build the team around."

Roy walked to the bench and gave a high-five to Robben, who was preparing to come on in the second half.

The Dutchman had a smile on his face, but the arrogance in his eyes that once seemed to say, "I'm not much worse than you as a winger," had vanished.

Instead, a complex emotion arose, a mixture of amazement and resignation.

(End of this chapter)