When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 220 The sounds of rain, songs, and goals filled the air.

The cheers of the fans could be faintly heard in the tunnel.

Chelsea players walked toward the dressing room in twos and threes. Mourinho and Roy walked side by side, talking quietly to each other, their expressions focused.

"I didn't even expect that shot from such a tight angle today. You always manage to turn the impossible into a goal. However, the team's defense on the left flank was still leaky, and Bridge was too slow to cover. We need to review that."

Roy unscrewed his water bottle and took a swig: "Bridge is definitely struggling and needs more cover. They broke through from there several times in the second half, and our midfield didn't recover quickly enough."

"They didn't control the second ball well; they won the second ball too easily."

"We were a bit slow in launching counter-attacks and missed a few good chances."

As is customary, Mourinho should communicate with the on-field captain Terry to provide tactical feedback after the match, but he always communicates with Roy as well.

"Talk about it"

Mourinho suddenly lowered his voice, "You handled the Mutu incident very cleverly. But next time something like this happens, let me deal with the reporters. You're a player, you shouldn't bear the pressure of public opinion for the club. I'd rather you keep your energy on the pitch, like today."

Roy laughed: "Are you afraid I'll say the wrong thing?"

“I’m afraid you’re too perfect. Perfection means all the burdens are on your shoulders. Sometimes, you should be like them, play golf, bet on horses, bet on dogs, or make headlines while holding a cheerleader.”

Mourinho half-jokingly squeezed his shoulder, "On the pitch, we need you to be the sharpest weapon; in the locker room, we need you to set an example; but the fierce exchanges at press conferences—that's the kind of bullets I, as the coach, should deflect."

Cheers erupted from the end of the tunnel, and Mourinho gently nudged Roy in the back.

"Go and enjoy your moment."

He lowered his voice and said, "Remember, on the field you're responsible for creating miracles, and off the field I'm responsible for solving problems. That's the perfect division of labor."

Roy nodded slightly: "Thank you, Coach."

Just as he turned to walk into the locker room, Mourinho suddenly called out to him: "Wait, what do you think of Morientes?"

"Not doing well with signings? I heard you were talking about Torres from Atletico Madrid, that kid is really good. And Kezman from PSV Eindhoven, and you're thinking of recalling Cole?"

Chelsea are considering recalling striker Carlton Cole, who is on loan at Aston Villa, to alleviate their attacking crisis.

Cole has been in excellent form at Aston Villa and has become a key player for the team. Manager O'Reilly has confirmed that he will play in the weekend's match against Arsenal.

However, Aston Villa denied receiving a recall notice from Chelsea, and Cole himself stated that he would prefer to stay at Villa to continue his development and looks forward to facing Arsenal defenders Campbell and Toure again.

"Moro is a good guy, he never complains in the locker room, but he's more serious than anyone else in the penalty area. Last year he was the Champions League Silver Boot winner. Moro's greatest strengths are his back-to-goal technique and first touch. He's different from Drogba. Drogba could carry two defenders while charging forward, but Moro is the kind of player who runs with his brain. As for Gudjohnsen? He's more like a second striker, able to drop back to receive the ball and organize play, but Moro is a pure penalty area killer."

Roy smiled slightly after he finished speaking.

Mourinho was certainly aware of Morientes' technical characteristics, and his words were loaded with meaning.

This suggests that Roy contacted Morientes in advance through personal connections, paving the way for a possible hijacking by Chelsea.

Real Madrid striker Morientes recently admitted that he is considering leaving La Liga to play in the Premier League, with his target being Liverpool, managed by his compatriot Rafael Benítez.

Morientes is worried that Owen's return to form will further intensify the competition for Real Madrid's attacking positions, and his own playing time will be further reduced.

Liverpool manager Rafael Benitez has always admired Ja Morientes. In Benitez's view, Morientes would be the ideal candidate to strengthen the attacking line, and his arrival would help solve Liverpool's weakness in aerial combat.

At the same time, Morientes is also very interested in Liverpool's "Spanishization." With so many compatriots here, he believes that adapting to the Premier League environment as soon as possible will not be difficult.

“Owen’s return to form is a good thing for Real Madrid,” Morientes said, “but it’s also a new problem for me.”

"Liverpool might be a good option during the January transfer window. I've always loved the Premier League, and I know Benitez was interested in me when he was managing Valencia."

“My situation at Real Madrid is not pleasant. If things continue like this, I will have to consider leaving the team. I am tired of sitting on the bench waiting for my chance to play.”

"Liverpool is a team that every player would love to play for. They have a great manager, a lot of Spanish players, a long history, and a huge and enthusiastic supporter base."

Roy remained silent for a moment in the locker room.
Morientes struggled to adapt to Liverpool after his transfer, and his tactical fit was far from what was expected.

Even more regrettably, because he had already played in the Champions League for Real Madrid that season, he lost the chance to participate in Liverpool's Miracle of Istanbul.

Although he will also be unable to participate in Chelsea's Champions League this season.

But it seems it's time to lend a helping hand to our brother again.

In the third round of the Champions League Group B, Real Madrid narrowly defeated Dynamo Kyiv 1-0 at home.

In the first half, Zidane's free kick hit the post, and Owen scored the only goal of the game, which was also his first goal for Real Madrid.

In the 80th minute of the match, Morientes came on as a substitute, replacing Ronaldo.

The locker room was noisy after the game when Florentino suddenly pushed the door open and entered.

He went straight to Owen, gave him a warm hug and kiss, congratulated him on scoring his first goal for Real Madrid, and wished him a bright future at Real Madrid.

Morientes, standing to the side, quietly folded his number 8 jersey, his expression not looking too good.

At that moment, his phone vibrated.

It was a text message from Roy: "Congratulations on the win! I'll call you tonight."

Morientes' fingers paused on the keyboard for two seconds before he quickly replied, "What do you mean?"

Roy immediately replied: "Which club in England wouldn't you go to? At least come to Chelsea, and I can still protect you."

Morientes took a deep breath, stared at his phone screen for a few seconds, hesitated, and finally replied quickly, "Okay, let's talk in detail tonight."

On the evening of October 20, 2004, in the backstage dressing room of the Palladium Theatre in London's West End, Girls Aloud had just finished a wildly popular performance.

Kimberly Walsh suddenly leaned in from behind, resting his chin on Cheryl's shoulder: "Hey, are you really having an affair with that cold-blooded killer Roy from Chelsea? The Sun even photographed you two having dinner together in Mayfair!"

Cheryl paused, her hand still tucking a hair tie into her bag, her ears instantly turning red: "What nonsense are you talking about? It's just a meal with some ordinary friends."

She grabbed a powder compact and pretended to touch up her makeup, but the corners of her mouth in the mirror subtly curled up.

In a corner of the locker room, Nicola Roberts and Sarah Harding exchanged a knowing look.

"My God, Roy is so sexy it's criminal! His physique is as tall and straight as a fir tree, his muscles are sculpted like a sculpture, his proportions are so perfect you can't look away. His eyes are so dark they seem to suck you in, and he has this roguish charm!"

Kimberly clicked his tongue. "Who's hotter in the Premier League right now? Scoring every game, top scorer, record signing in the summer transfer window, and he's all over The Sun's sports section every day!"

She suddenly leaned close to Cheryl's ear and whispered, "Seriously, have you two slept together?"

Cheryl immediately laughed and gave her a push: "You're crazy! Of course not!"

But the tips of her ears turned bright red instantly, and she twirled the ends of her hair with her fingers.

Kimberly raised an eyebrow: "Come on, you obviously want it to die for it~"

She deliberately dragged out the last syllable, watching Cheryl's subtle movement of biting her lower lip.

Those usually bright and lively eyes were now staring unfocused at something in the mirror, clearly their thoughts had drifted to the arms of a certain dark-haired player.

Another member, Nadine Coyle, walked over and leaned against the vanity, her gaze shifting between Cheryl and her own reflection in the mirror. She pursed her lips and said:

"Cheryl, listen to me, you have to get Roy! This guy is perfect. His face is unbelievably handsome, his body is better than a male model's, and he's the best-dressed player in the Premier League. Do you know how much he earns a week?"

"A whopping £120,000! The highest salary in Premier League history! And that doesn't even include his endorsements! Nike ambassador, Rolex's latest brand ambassador, Dior menswear's first player model, even Coca-Cola broke with tradition by signing an athlete for him. Good heavens, he's making money the time it takes him to drink water! The Times says he'll surpass Beckham's advertising revenue in two years at most."

"And look at his exposure! He's on the front page of every newspaper in England, there's a huge advertisement for his personal brand at Stamford Bridge, and I heard he's about to open his first shop in Kensington. Which player these days has this kind of business acumen? If you ask me, he's even better than Beckham! Just think about the life Victoria is living now. If you don't make a move, some Page 3 girl will snatch him away tomorrow!"

Suddenly, a chorus of cheers erupted in the locker room: "That's right! Why don't you introduce us to him!"

"Didn't they just win the Champions League tonight? Quickly call them and invite them over for a victory party!"

"I have a dress in my closet that's hot enough to make the third page of The Sun."

Sarah held up a sequined mini-skirt in front of the mirror, gesturing, "I guarantee I'll make that cold guy's blood boil!"

Makelele's black Mercedes slowly drove out of Stamford Bridge, and Chelsea fans waiting on the roadside immediately rushed up to ask for autographs.

He stopped the car, rolled down the window, and signed autographs for a few young fans.

Just then, a silver-gray Bentley Continental GT drove out of the players' tunnel, instantly igniting the entire street.

Cheers and screams filled the sky; Roy's car caused a sensation as soon as it appeared.

Makelele curled his lip and rolled up the car window.

His conflict with Roy has been ongoing for some time.

Although both are from the French contingent, since Zidane announced his retirement, this twenty-year-old has become increasingly unruly in the locker room.

He quickly established himself as the core player of the team, but in Makelele's eyes, he showed no respect for the veteran players.

It's one thing to have conflicts with Arsenal's Henry, Pires, and Vieira, but Roy has never shown any goodwill towards Chelsea's Makelele and Gallas.

During this period, Gallas and Makelele had almost no interaction with Roy except during training. On the contrary, players of other nationalities and some English players were always hanging around Roy.

As soon as Roy rolled down the car window, the fans went wild.

"Roy! How many more games can we win? Is ten wins enough?!" A young man with a flushed face shouted from the car window.

"To hell with Arsenal! This year's Premier League title must be ours!" A middle-aged man wearing a Chelsea scarf waved his fist.

The girl next to me with blue hair screamed, "The Champions League! We want the Champions League! You promised to take us to the final in Istanbul!"

"Roy! Look at the top scorers list right now! If you keep playing like this, do you think you can break the Premier League single-season goal record this year?"

Several students chattered amongst themselves: "How many goals will they score against Blackburn in the next game?"

"Did Terry really not be able to guard you during practice?"

Is it true that The Sun is reporting you're going to publish an autobiography?

The fat guy in the back row suddenly yelled, "Who cares about the championship! Roy, that world-class goal you scored today is something I can brag about for the rest of my life!"

Roy accepted the autographed book from the fan and responded with a smile:

"Winning streak until the next game. That's the only answer I can give."

"Of course. Of course we're going to Istanbul."

"Terry isn't completely undefendable. Occasionally..."

Thank you, thank you.

Finally, a little boy timidly handed over his notebook: "Roy, next time you score a goal, can you strike a pose like Naruto's Shadow Clone Jutsu?"

Roy flashed his signature fanged smile and ruffled the little boy's hair: "Of course!"

He suddenly formed a "未" (wei) seal.

"Shadow Clone Technique! Just you wait and see next time you score, kid!"

The silver-gray Bentley started slowly, and Roy rolled up the window amidst deafening cheers.

He took out his phone and dialed Makelele's number.

"Claude"

When the call connected, his voice was a few decibels lower than usual. "I was just about to ask you out for a drink, but you left too early. It's getting late, we need to find some time to talk."

"What to talk about?"

Makelele's voice was short and cold.

Roy's fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his voice suddenly turning serious: "What should we talk about? Let's talk about the championships we should have won over the years. Claude, you still have at least three more years of your prime. Don't you want to taste the feeling of lifting the Champions League and the World Cup?"

"Real Madrid letting you go was their blindness, but you can't let the whole world think that you can only touch the Champions League trophy at the Bernabéu. The World Cup? You lack that, and so do I. Honestly, what footballer in this world can refuse that thing?"

Makelele's breathing suddenly became heavy on the phone, as if he had been punched in the chest.

I have

His voice faltered, the sound of his Adam's apple bobbing clearly audible, "...He's retired from the national team."

Roy's laughter came through the receiver, light and cheerful like a boy who had just pulled off a prank: "Just quit the national team and then announce your rejoin! The national team is like a door. Cloud, you close it and then open it again, that's how you use a door!"

He suddenly slammed on the gas, and the Bentley's engine roared like a beast.

The night wind howled through the car window, whipping his hair wildly.

He excitedly shouted into the phone, "Whoa—!"

Then, lowering his voice and with a hint of provocative laughter, he said, "Claude, did you hear that? This is what it feels like to be alive."

"We need to talk this over. I can't live without you, old buddy."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone, then Roy uttered the fatal temptation, word by word:

"We have to win that damn World Cup."

"Thank you for your congratulations. I'm too tired after playing in the Champions League, so I won't be able to come this time."

Cheryl put her phone on the bar and gave her friends a sidelong glance: "Roy said he can't make it."

A chorus of disappointed jeers immediately erupted around them.

The neon lights of China White swept across their table.

The members of Girls Aloud and their friends from the modeling world were being stared at by the man in the next booth, but at that moment everyone's attention was focused on the rejected phone call.

"Even Premier League superstars get tired?"

Kimberly chuckled, a straw dangling from his lips. "Could it be that they're afraid of being photographed by The Sun?"

Suddenly, a commotion broke out in the nightclub.

The crowd surged toward the entrance like a tidal wave, amidst a cacophony of screams, with some excitedly shouting, "Arsenal! Arsenal!"

Arsenal defeated Porto 3-2 at home tonight.

Henry scored twice, and Ljungberg sealed the victory.

The Gunners have now moved to China White to celebrate, with Henry leading the way, followed by Ljungberg, Nonda, Gaspar, Lauren, and Ashley Cole.
They had clearly already had a round of drinks elsewhere; their shirt collars were loose, and their faces were flushed with victory.

The girls at Girls Aloud exchanged glances, and Kimberly chuckled, swirling his glass: "See? The football stars of North London really know how to enjoy life."

Nicola gestured toward the Arsenal table: "They can party until the early hours after finishing the Champions League, while some people are acting like good boys on the phone."

Cheryl didn't reply, but just looked thoughtfully at Henry, who was surrounded by his teammates.

The French striker was using his skillful British humor to make his female companions swoon, exuding the composure of a champion player in every gesture.

Ashley Cole was taking a swig of tequila when he suddenly stopped.

Cheryl shone past his table in her high heels, her red lips burning into his vision like a flame.

"Holy shit"

He elbowed Ljungberg, "Look at that girl in the red dress, her lips are like ripe strawberries, and the way she sways her hips... God, she's just like a juicy peach!"

Ashley Cole's voice was so loud that Cheryl glared at him, her face full of displeasure.

Seeing this, Ljungberg whispered to Cole, "Those are the girls from Girls Aloud, like the Spice Girls."

He expertly raised his glass to them, "Would you like to have a drink together?"

But Cheryl and her partner simply shook their heads indifferently and turned to walk towards the dance floor.

"Cole?"

Kimberly rolled his eyes. "A regular at The Sun, and he was photographed in a nightclub restroom stall last week."

Nicola leaned closer and whispered, "I heard Roy likes to have fun too."

"Well, you still have to pick someone good to eat, at least someone handsome, and French people are better at kissing."

Nonda grinned and nudged Henry with his elbow: "Hey, Thierry, our Cole got slapped by the girls!"

Henry, who was talking to someone while holding a wine glass, turned around upon hearing this, raising an eyebrow: "Oh? Who's being so disrespectful?"

He deliberately put on a stern face, but a smile played on his lips. "This is the iron gatekeeper on the left flank of our England team. Many strikers would go weak in the knees if they saw him."

Cole took a swig of his drink, his eyes still glancing towards the dance floor: "I'm fucking smitten with her. That girl's name is Cheryl, right? From that idol group."

Henry suddenly put down his whiskey glass: "Wait a minute. Didn't The Sun break the story last week about that minor celebrity who was seen with Roy at the restaurant?"

"Which Roy?" Cole frowned.

Nonda yanked Henry's arm hard, his face turning pale: "Damn, which Roy could it be?!"

Cole downed his drink in one gulp and slammed the glass down. "I'm afraid of him? What a joke!" He turned and glared at Henry.

"Thirry, stop asking about that French kid's dirty business. Why are you so concerned about him? In the locker room, he should have been calling you 'big brother' respectfully! If it weren't for what you said, I would have already gone up and chatted with him."

Henry felt a little uncomfortable under Cole's gaze: "Alright. Why should I bother with that kid?"

He twitched the corners of his mouth, giving a perfunctory smile, "I won't stoop to his level."

At this time, he was at home.

Roy tiptoed to his sister's bedroom door, and hearing noises inside, he muttered, "There's something fun I can show Romy tomorrow."

"What is that?" Romy's voice immediately came from inside the room.

Roy laughed: "I knew you weren't asleep."

He leaned against the doorframe. "How's the new school?"

"It's alright," Romy said with a childlike disdain. "Those kids are only in middle school, but their hormones are like fountains. The girls are always chasing after them asking if they can be my sister-in-law, and the boys are even more outrageous, begging me every day to introduce them to you as caddies. They say they can be my little dog followers."

Roy couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Please don't reward them."

He shook his head, thinking that these kids would probably all be addicted to that shooting game called Valorant when they grew up.

He was wearing a loose beige sweater, holding a cup of hot milk, and stood at the door shaking his head: "Didn't drink your milk again? Drink it before you go to sleep."

October 23, 2004, the tenth match day of the English Premier League.

Chelsea's home game against Blackburn is about to begin, but the minds of all England fans have already flown to tomorrow's Premier League highlight match.

Manchester United will host Arsenal.

This match is highly anticipated not only because the two teams are fierce rivals in the Premier League, but also because Arsenal is maintaining an astonishing 49-game unbeaten streak.

Before the match, Arsenal manager Arsène Wenger fired the first shot.

He said meaningfully, "Manchester United is currently in a period of transition. Can they return to their peak of winning three consecutive titles? I don't think so. The title race in the Premier League is very clear now. Arsenal and Chelsea are the real contenders. Manchester United? They've fallen behind. The two London teams are the main characters this season."

Although he didn't say much, he was immediately sensationalized by the media.

The Sun went even further, running the headline: "Wenger says: Manchester United are washed up! They're no longer useful!"

Although Wenger later clarified that he did not mean that, the topic had already been heated up, adding fuel to the fire of this highly anticipated match.

Ferguson responded quickly, but his counterattack was rather clumsy.

He brought up old grievances from last season's conflict between the two teams, accusing Arsenal players of "starting the fight" but "escaping punishment."

These remarks clearly carried a sense of resentment.

It is widely believed that, given Ferguson's experience, such a response was subpar.

After all, Arsenal's 49-game unbeaten run and fluid attacking style speak for themselves; rather than going head-to-head, it's better to acknowledge the opponent's excellence.

Wenger had already gained a psychological advantage, and his pre-match comments were clearly meant to lure Ferguson into a trap. Unexpectedly, the old sir fell for it.

The Guardian astutely commented: "Losing one's temper only reveals a lack of confidence."

Wenger's response was quite clever.

He first advised Ferguson to "calm down," then turned the tables on him: "Sir Ferguson is really funny. Does he want to drag us out and shoot us to vent his anger? A coach should get the players focused on the game, not on playing with resentment. The FA has already made a decision on the last matter, so it's really surprising to bring it up again now."

These words demonstrated both good manners and implied that the Manchester United manager lacked professionalism.

Last year, the two teams clashed fiercely on this pitch, resulting in five Arsenal players receiving suspensions after the match. Now, as they meet again, this highly anticipated and fiery encounter is sure to generate even more excitement.

Now that they've met again, everyone is anticipating a clash of titans.

Will Arsenal create a 50-game unbeaten run, or will Manchester United end their opponent's glorious record?

If Manchester United cannot end Arsenal's winning streak, then all that remains is to hope for a comeback from Mourinho's iron-willed Blues team led by Roy.

Chelsea made changes to their starting lineup: Desailly, Glen Johnson, and Carvalho replaced Parker, Maicon, and Gallas in the starting lineup, respectively.

This was Desailly's first start for Chelsea this season. Mourinho found in training that the veteran was more reliable as a defensive midfielder than younger players like Parker and Gremi, and could even play defensive midfielder on his own for about 60 minutes against mid-to-lower table teams.

Duff will start as a winger in this match against his former club, Blackburn Rovers.

For Blackburn, Tugay is suspended and unable to play, but Fricroft and Short have returned to the starting lineup.

It's worth noting that Chelsea have a poor record against Blackburn at Stamford Bridge, with 4 draws and 5 losses in the last 11 seasons.

After the match started, both teams played cautiously, with particularly intense battles in the midfield area.

At Stamford Bridge, where the rain was pouring down, the chants of Chelsea fans pierced through the downpour.

Just seven minutes into the game, Roy suddenly started moving, his blue jersey clinging tightly to his muscular body like a lightning bolt splitting through the rain.

His sneakers splashed water as he strode through the puddles, and in three quick steps he left the staggering full-back behind.

"ROI! ROI!"

Die-hard fans in the Matthew Harding stand pounded on their seats as rain dripped down their scarves.

Just as the opposing defender lunged forward, Roy deftly cut inside with his right foot, and his low cross from the ground with his left foot pierced through the rain like an arrow.

The moment Short awkwardly stretched out his leg to block, the entire stadium erupted in a sigh of regret.

Amidst chants of "Chelsea! Chelsea!", Lampard volleyed the ball as it bounced out of the air.

The thud of Neil's diving block hadn't even faded when the camera cut to the sidelines.

Mourinho's suit was soaked through by the rain. He was clenching his fists and roaring at the field, water droplets from his black hair splashing everywhere with his violent movements.

Assistant coach Faria tried to hold an umbrella for him, but he pushed him away.

The Portuguese man stood at the very front of the technical area, rain dripping from his chin, but his roar was more piercing than any umbrella: "Push up! Keep pushing up!"

The grass had turned into a swamp after the heavy rain, and Chelsea's exquisite ground passing was repeatedly disrupted by the water, but the fans' chants grew louder and louder.

The melody of "Blue is the color!" mingled with the sound of rain, echoing between the steel structures of the Stamford Bridge.

The heavy rain made the pitch slippery, hindering Chelsea's preferred ground passing game.

The ball bounced back and forth near the midfield line, splashing water everywhere as it was kicked.

Roy swiftly intercepted the ball, only to be immediately tackled by Djorkaeff. The two stumbled and struggled in the mud, the dull thud of their shoes colliding clearly audible.

Before the referee blew his whistle, Roy had already stretched out his leg and poked the ball to Lampard.

Djorkaeff is a legendary French football star who played as a striker or midfielder. He played for top clubs such as Inter Milan and won the 1998 World Cup and the 2000 European Championship with the French national team. He was known for his all-around skills and strong attacking ability and was nicknamed "The Serpent".

But Roy showed no respect for the elderly, and a few minutes later he was back with the ball facing Djorkaeff.

With a flick and a twist of his right foot, the ball passed between the veteran's legs.

He accelerated past his opponent and unleashed a low shot from the edge of the penalty area on the left, the ball grazing the far post and going out of play.

In the 19th minute, Blackburn player Fricroft tackled Desailly during a challenge and received the first yellow card of the match.

A controversial moment occurred in the 25th minute: Blackburn won a corner kick, which Djorkaeff took into the penalty area. During the header challenge, Dikov was pushed down by Smertin, but the referee, Pol, waved play on and did not award a penalty.

This decision greatly displeased the Blackburn players.

As Blackburn manager Mark Hughes roared from the sidelines, Blackburn's away fans were engulfed in a blue frenzy at Stamford Bridge.

They watched the scarves waving around them by Chelsea fans and muttered curses under their breath about "nouveau riche."

Twenty years ago, when Jack Walker's money propelled Blackburn Rovers from League Two to the Premier League title, the whole of England looked at this suddenly rising country team with the same disdain.

In 1991, local steel tycoon Jack Walker acquired Blackburn Rovers, who were then struggling in the English Second Division (the second tier).

Upon taking office, he immediately implemented sweeping reforms, not only bringing in renowned coach Kenny Dalglish but also investing heavily in player recruitment.

In their first season, the team was promoted to League One by finishing sixth in League Two.

After being promoted to the Premier League, Walker continued his spending spree, signing Alan Shearer for a record £350 million and bringing in other big names such as Le Socks.

With Walker's continued support, this century-old club has achieved a miracle in just four years.

In the 1994-95 season, they beat Manchester United to win the Premier League title. During the championship celebration, Walker said the famous quote: "This title has put Blackburn on the map."

Thanks to the generosity of a wealthy individual, a local club broke the long-standing championship monopoly of big-city clubs.

Walker may not have realized at the time that he had created a new club management model: spend money to bring in the best players, without worrying about losses, the only thing that matters is winning.

When Jack Walker spent a fortune to acquire Alan Shearer, he never imagined that the model he pioneered would be exploited even more ruthlessly.

Now, the Chelsea team built with Russian rubles is even more insane than Blackburn was back then.

Roy's rampage in the penalty area was far more unrestrained than Shearer's ten years ago.

This time, however, it was Blackburn's defenses that trembled in the downpour.

Lampard used a change of direction on the left flank to get past the Blackburn midfielder, and then passed the ball forward.

Roy sprinted forward and flicked the ball with his toe, just clearing the sliding defender. Before the splash of water even landed, he had already entered the penalty area.

Blackburn's defense, like a candle flickering in the rain and wind, swayed and retreated before him.

He first made a sudden stop on the left side of the penalty area to get past Emerton, and then flicked the ball past the onrushing midfielder Barry Ferguson with his heel.

As Short stumbled to cover, Roy had already changed direction three times in a row.

The old center-back's shoes slipped in the water, so he could only push him from behind.

As Roy fell to the ground, he used the instep of his right foot to launch a low shot.

The ball passed through Neil's outstretched legs, grazed the fingertips of goalkeeper Friedel, and splashed a spray of water on the inside of the far post.

"GOAL!!! Roy breaks the deadlock! 36 minutes, a ghostly breakthrough! He chipped the ball over two players, and delivered the fatal blow the moment he fell to the ground! Blackburn's defenders were completely outmaneuvered, Stamford Bridge is in a frenzy!"

When Roy fell into a puddle just outside the baseline, the Stamford Bridge crowd erupted in cheers.

Chelsea fans stood on their seats, raindrops splashing from their raised scarves, but their singing drowned out the sound of the rain:

"Roi the King! Roi the King!"
He'll destroy your defenses!

Dribble past you, shoot so fast!
The Demon King strikes again!

Cheryl stood in the third row of the stands, surrounded by Chelsea fans who were stomping their feet and chanting "Demon King," making her eardrums vibrate.

She shouted a couple of times, and suddenly noticed that Roy, who had gotten up on the field, glanced in their direction.

Even though she knew he was probably just looking at the scoreboard, her scream still mingled with the cheers.

Roy didn't seem enthusiastic about moving the relationship forward after their last date.

The replies are getting slower and slower, and when they call, they always say they're in training.

But as he turned around, wiping the raindrops from his face, Cheryl was already clutching the scarf with his number printed on it.

When the "Demon King's" song rang out again, she sang louder than anyone else.

In the 43rd minute of the match, Blackburn launched a well-rehearsed combination play down the flanks.

Right-back Matteo made a run down the flank, completed a one-two with Emerton, and then crossed from the byline.

Center forward Dikov cleverly laid the ball back inside the penalty area, and Djorkaeff followed up with a shot.

In that split second, Desailly slid in like a drawn sword.

His left leg was precisely positioned in Djorkaeff's shooting path, and the outside of his boot kept the ball firmly planted on the turf.

Blackburn's number 10 was still in a staggered position after the shot, while Desailly had already bounced up with one hand on the ground.

A textbook tackle to keep the ball in place.

No adjustments were made, and there was no hesitation.

As Desailly got up, he swung his right foot and delivered a 40-meter long pass that tore through the rain like an intercontinental ball.

Roy suddenly started moving forward, and behind him, the entire Blackburn defense still had their arms raised high when they were trying to create an offside trap.

Mourinho turned to his assistant coach on the sidelines and said something, but his words were drowned out by a sudden burst of exclamations from the stands.

The ball is now tracing a perfect parabola, landing in the space on the left side of the Blackburn penalty area.

Roy darted out from between the two defenders like a cheetah, heading straight for the landing spot.

Mourinho was yelling orders from the sidelines, but his voice was instantly swallowed up by the deafening roar of "ROI! ROI!" from Stamford Bridge.

When Chelsea fans jumped up and down, the stands shook so much that even the rain curtain trembled.

Roy controlled the ball with his chest just outside the penalty arc, but before it hit the ground, Blackburn defender Neil had already pounced on it.

He caught a glimpse of Friedel standing slightly ahead, and immediately swung his right foot and flicked it with the instep.

The ball soared high as if guided by precision, soaring over the head of Short, who was desperately chasing back.

Friedel staggered back two steps, but the ball plummeted rapidly half a meter above his fingertips, finally hitting the underside of the crossbar and bouncing into the net.

Amid cheers from Stamford Bridge, Roy turned and rushed toward the corner flag, leaving Neil standing there dumbfounded and Friedel kneeling in the mud behind him.

Roy rushed toward Desailly in the pouring rain, their soaked jerseys pressed tightly together.

Desailly grabbed Roy's shoulder and swung his fist toward the stands with his other hand.

Stamford Bridge erupted in a deafening roar: Demon King! and Desailly's nickname, Le Rocher! (The Rock).

"The second half has begun! In the first half, Chelsea took a 2-0 lead over Blackburn in the pouring rain. Roy first dribbled past three players and scored while falling to the ground, and then in stoppage time, he received a long pass from Desailly and chipped the ball into the net. The chants of the Blues fans almost drowned out the sound of the rain."

"Tomorrow, the Premier League will witness a highly anticipated clash between Arsenal and Manchester United. Chelsea has already quietly pulled ahead by 27 points in the standings, while Arsenal are firing on all cylinders, but their previous draw leaves them two points behind. Manchester United, though only losing to Chelsea, have accumulated just 19 points due to too many draws, already eight points behind the leaders. Ferguson needs to quickly improve his attacking efficiency to join the title race. Mourinho's team is using victory after victory to declare to the entire league: a new era for the Blues has arrived!"

In the 50th minute, Chelsea's counter-attack tore through Blackburn's defense like lightning!

Terry intercepted Djorkaeff's through ball in the backfield and delivered a long diagonal pass to Roy on the left wing.

After receiving the ball, Roy faced Emerton's pressing, suddenly stopped and changed direction, and with a flick of his right foot, he directly shook off the Blackburn full-back who was making a diving tackle!
He looked up to observe and quickly passed the ball to Duff, who had moved up the right flank.

Duff dribbled forward and completed a brilliant one-two with Gudjohnsen.

The Icelander flicked the ball with his heel, sending it between Ferguson and Neil. Duff then surged forward and deftly chipped the ball over the right side of the penalty area!
The ball arced slightly, sailing over Short's head and heading straight for the far post!

Roy had already sprinted forward like a cheetah, leaping into the air in the rain and unleashing a powerful side-volley!
Friedel didn't even have time to raise his hand before the ball blasted into the net like a cannonball!
3-0!

"GOAL!!! Roy! Perfect teamwork! The exquisite link-up between Duff and Gudjohnsen! Look at this counter-attack. Roy's dribbling was beautiful! The passing was timely! The one-two between Duff and Gudjohnsen was so elegant! The lob pass was just right! Roy's volley! Powerful and heavy! 3-0!"

"Wait! What is he doing?"

Roy rushed toward the corner flag area, quickly forming hand seals amidst the pouring rain, and then "whoosh" spread his arms wide.

Shadow Clone Technique!
The young fans in the stands screamed wildly, while the Blackburn players could only stand frozen in the water, watching the Blues continue to extend their lead!
"This celebration will surely become the most classic moment of this round of the Premier League!"

"Mourinho was seen smiling on the sidelines, a rare sight indeed. Blackburn's defense had been completely breached in this downpour!"

With half an hour remaining in the game, Chelsea's attack remained fierce.

In the 64th minute, Robben replaced Roy, who had scored a hat-trick, and took over as the left winger.

Blackburn attempted a counterattack.

In the 66th minute, Reid took a free kick from 28 yards out on the right wing. His low shot went through the wall, but Cech caught it securely.

Two minutes later, Steed's shot was blocked by Terry's body.

Chelsea quickly retaliated.

In the 70th minute, Gudjohnsen delivered a brilliant through ball, and Lampard's shot was blocked by Friedel.

One minute later, Robben, who had just come on, took a low shot from a tight angle on the left side of the penalty area, but the ball grazed the post and went wide.

In the 73rd minute, Duff's low left-footed shot from 14 yards out on the left side of the penalty area also went wide of the far post.

But Duff quickly made up for his regret.

In the 75th minute, he suddenly unleashed a powerful left-footed shot from 25 meters out on the right wing. Although Friedel made a diving save and touched the ball, he couldn't stop it from rolling into the net along the post.

4-0! Stamford Bridge erupted once again as Chelsea sealed the victory with fluid and decisive attacks.

(End of this chapter)