When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 48 Tonight, Velodrom is Red (Please read on!)
The 57th minute of the game.

Monaco launched a feint attack down the right flank, with Giuly and right-back Elfakiri combining to create space.

Giuly cuts inside with the ball, drawing the attention of Marseille's left-back Dos Santos.

Elfaqiri made a run down the flank, forcing Hemdani to cover the flank.

After completing a one-two pass, the two players realized there was no opportunity to cross the ball, so they chose to pass it back to midfield and reorganize the game.

In Monaco's tactical system, which lacks a central midfielder and an attacking midfielder, in addition to Giuly and Rothen as the two wingers, Marquez and Bernardi both need to take on some midfield organization work, especially Marquez, whose long passing ability is quite good.

"Giuly and Elfachiri patiently combined on the right flank, but Marseille's defense collapsed quickly! Go back to midfield and reorganize!"

Celestini pressed forward, but Max deftly cut inside, creating space and escaping the pressure.

Looking up, he delivered a 30-meter diagonal pass with his right foot, accurately finding Rothen on the weak side.

The shift in focus from strong to weak sides instantly tore apart Marseille's defensive line.

"Max! Calmly break free! A long diagonal pass finds Rothen! Marseille's defensive formation has been broken up!"

Rothen volleyed the ball towards the center before it hit the ground, avoiding being surrounded and tackled.

Pulso leaned on Celestini and headed the ball towards the near post.

Marseille's defense was instantly thrown into disarray, forcing Van Buyten and Meyer to retreat towards the center.

Rothen's volley pass! Pulso flicks it on with his head! Chaos erupts in front of the Marseille penalty area!

Roy's explosive breakthrough immediately showcased his absolute individual ability.

As Roy started moving, his body sank slightly, and his right toe lightly touched the ground.

As Pulso's header grazed in front of him, his ankle suddenly straightened, and explosive power shot from the sole of his foot straight through his waist and abdomen.

He suddenly started moving between two defenders, and Eker's pupils contracted sharply. Just as his left leg was about to move to block the shot, Roy had already whizzed through the gap between him and Meyette. The explosive power of his first step left Eker completely unable to keep up.

Van Buyten attacked from the rear, chasing frantically and using his body to try and limit Roy.

After a three-second tug-of-war, Van Buyten subtly grabbed Roy's jersey hem with his left hand and braced his right elbow against Roy's lumbar spine, the two muscles colliding with a dull thud.

Under Van Buyten's weight, Roy was unable to fully accelerate, but his center of gravity remained stable.

Just as Van Buyten was about to make a sliding tackle, Roy suddenly lowered his left shoulder, causing Van Buyten to lose his balance. He then flicked the ball to his right rear with his left foot, and the ball spun backward and passed between Van Buyten's legs.

Van Buyten completely lost his balance and his knees slammed heavily onto the grass, allowing Roy to break free in an instant.

Adjust your right foot with one step, extend your left arm to maintain balance, and swing your right arm back naturally to gather power, completing the explosive shot in a very small space.

The ball flew like a cannonball straight up to the top corner, smashing against the crossbar and into the net!

Goalkeeper Lunger made no reaction!

"Roy! Start! Change direction! Tap the ball to get rid of him!!! Powerful shot!!! Absolutely violent aesthetics! Van Buyten is outmaneuvered, Lund can only watch helplessly!"

"This isn't a goal, it's art! From Max's long pass to Rothen's pinpoint pass, and then to Roy's powerful shot—Monaco's attack was as precise as a scalpel, and Roy was the one wielding that scalpel!"

Perrin stood on the sidelines, his face ashen.

Deschamps simply smiled slightly, as if everything was expected.

The 63th minute of the game.

Eker received a red card, and Marseille's defense completely collapsed.

Rothen dropped back to receive the ball, drawing a double-team from Meyette and Celestini.

He suddenly delivered a penetrating through ball with the outside of his left foot, and Pulso started like a cheetah, about to break into the penalty area one-on-one!
In desperation, Eker grabbed Pulso's jersey from behind, causing the Croatian striker to stumble a couple of steps, and the referee finally blew the whistle!

The referee expressionlessly pulled out a second yellow card, followed by a raised red card!

Eker's face contorted in rage. He first spread his hands and roared, his pupils contracting violently, the whites of his eyes turning bloodshot and red with fury.

Perrin covered his face on the coaching bench; he knew—Marseille's defense had completely collapsed.

"Red card! Eker is sent off! Marseille's defense has completely collapsed! We don't know what Roy said to him, but the 0-3 scoreline is like a knife to the hearts of Marseille fans! Listen to the boos – the Stade Vélodrome has never been so angry!"

"Perrin's expression was like he was witnessing the end of the world. Perhaps the massacre in Monaco has only just begun!"

Roy strolled leisurely over to Eker, lightly flicking the red part of his red and white jersey with his finger, and sneered:

"Is this to welcome me? The Velodrome Stadium is red today?"

Pulso was substituted off, and Suleiman Kamara came on as a substitute. Monaco continued to press forward.

Marseille were forced to switch to a 5-3-1 formation, taking off Chapuis and bringing on substitute defender Salomon Olumbe.

Marseille's defense collapsed, and with one less player, Van Buyten was forced to move to the defensive midfield position, leaving Meyette to carry the team alone.

71 minutes.

Max intercepted Johansson's pass near the center circle and tackled the ball away with a vicious sliding tackle, which rolled to Bernardi's feet.

Bernardi looked up to observe and quickly passed the ball to Giuly on the right wing.

Giuly dribbled forward at high speed, while Dos Santos retreated while fighting, not daring to press forward easily.

Giuly suddenly changed direction and cut inside, shaking off the defender before crossing the ball!
Roy cleverly let the ball pass on to Suleiman Kamara, who was making a run into the box!
Kamara leaped high, overpowering Meyette, and smashed a powerful header into the goal!
Lundja couldn't make the save, 0-4!

"Max intercepts the ball! Bernardi passes to the wing! Giuly crosses! Roy lets it through – Suleiman Kamara heads it in! Marseille's defense has completely collapsed! Four goals ahead! Monaco celebrate wildly at the Stade Vélodrome!"

Deschamps stood on the sidelines, arms crossed, a slight smile on his lips, and nodded gently.

Perrin slumped on the coach's bench, his hands covering his head, his eyes vacant.

Marseille fans were deathly silent, some began to leave early, and the giant team flag in the south stand was taken down.

Monaco fans celebrated wildly, chanting "Allez Monaco!" and some lit red smoke bombs.

78 minutes.

Rodriguez headed the ball away from the backfield, and Elfaqiri quickly advanced after receiving the ball.

Elfakiri and Rothen played a one-two, breaking through Laurentti's defense. Elfakiri seized the opportunity and delivered a low through ball to Giuly on the right wing.

After receiving the ball, Giuly used a feint to create space for Van Buyten, who was making a hasty attempt to cover.

Giuly dribbles into the penalty area and fires a low shot into the far corner with his left foot!

Lundger made a difficult save, but the ball was too fast, 0-5!

"Elfachiri through ball! Giuly breaks through! Van Buyten is outmaneuvered! Giuly low shot – BUUUUUT! 0-5! Marseille's nightmare continues! The Stade Vélodrome has become Monaco's home ground!"

Perrin remained expressionless and walked directly to the locker room corridor.

The angry boos from Marseille fans echoed throughout the stadium, and some extreme fans even began throwing coins into the Monaco away zone.

Some Monaco fans held up a makeshift sign that read "5-0" and chanted "On a tué Marseille!" ("We killed Marseille!").
Commentator Thierry Rolland's voice suddenly rose, with the background noise of Monaco fans' thunderous cheers.

"The man who, in 1993, wore the Marseille jersey and captained the team to lift the Champions League trophy at the Munich Olympic Stadium—Deschamps—is back today! He has returned to the Stade Vélodrome with his Monaco squad, and this time, he has personally tolled the death knell for Marseille!"

"The worst home defeat in Marseille's history, breaking the record set in 1965 when they lost 0-4 to Saint-Étienne."

"Perrin's impenetrable defense? Marseille's logistical tactics? These laughable struggles only held Monaco back for forty-five minutes! In the final second before the halftime whistle, Roy—this ruthless young assassin—shattered Marseille's illusions with a stunning bicycle kick! Don't ask for whom the bell tolls—Roy has already told everyone with this bicycle kick: the bell tolls for Marseille!"

"Look at this stadium! It was once a temple for Marseille, the pride of French football! But tonight, it's been painted red and white! Monaco's players are heading to the away stands to thank their die-hard fans who have traveled from afar! Listen to the cheers! This is the triumphant song of the conquerors! This is the celebration of the avengers!"

"And Marseille? Their players fled the battlefield with their heads down, like defeated soldiers! Their fans were silent, angry, and even wept! This is the cruelty of football—the former kings are now buried by their own legends!"

"But Monaco's journey is not over yet! They will continue their advance, marching proudly into the French League Cup final to face Sochaux, who eliminated Metz! And in Ligue 1, they remain at the top of the table! This young Monaco team, under Deschamps' leadership, is writing a new dynasty!"

"As for Marseille? After tonight, they will have to face a harsh reality—their era may really be over."

As the final whistle blew, the chants of Monaco fans echoed through the night sky.

"Allez Monaco! Allez la victoire!"

"This stadium is where my youth was built. After winning the Champions League in 1993, I stood here with the trophy and received cheers from 50,000 people. The love the fans gave me before tonight's match was even more intense than when I was a player, which made me realize that some bonds cannot be broken by time. But tonight, the cheers from the Monaco fans are just as exciting as they were back then, and they make my blood boil."

The sports reporters stirred, and Deschamps looked directly at the camera.

"If football is war, then destroying Marseille with the fiercest fighting spirit is the greatest respect I can show them. I know every inch of this pitch, which is why I ordered Roy and his team to show no mercy."

"Perrin wants to stop us with a defensive wall and fouls? Ridiculous. I only said one thing in the locker room: 'Marseille would rather be thrashed five times than be given a goal as a favor.'"

A reporter asked, "According to internal sources at Tuttosport, they are preparing to establish a 'European Best Young Player Award' to select the best young player under 21 years old in Europe. The first round of predictions is expected to be announced in June. Do you think Roy will be selected?"

Deschamps said: "Regardless of the award, Roy's performance tonight has proven that he is the most dangerous young man in Europe."

When asked by reporters how he would evaluate Perrin's defensive tactics and fouling strategy, Roy responded...

He raised an eyebrow and teased, "Did he name his defensive line?"

The reporter shook his head: "Perrin's defensive line?"

Roy gave a mocking smile: "Perhaps the name Andrea Maginot would be more appropriate."

What are your thoughts on Perrin's fouling tactics?

Clausewitz wrote in "On War" that "the victor is not condemned".

Pause, look directly into the camera.

"But Mr. Perrin clearly didn't read the next sentence—'Defeat achieved through despicable means is despised even by the wild dogs on the battlefield.'"

The reporters stirred, and someone shouted, "Clausewitz didn't say the second half of the sentence!"

Roy shrugged:

"Oh? Perhaps I remembered it wrong."

"However, history will remember two things: first, they used logging tactics; second, they were defeated 0-5 on their knees."

Before turning away, he delivered the final blow:

"By the way, tell Perrin that Clausewitz also said, 'Only a fearful army would rely on scoundrels.'"

This time it really was him who said it.

He then looked directly into the camera and added, "And also, tonight, Velodrom is red."

Roy slumped on the hotel sofa, a glass of ice water in his hand, the blue light from the TV screen reflecting on his face.

Sports news was playing his incredible bicycle kick on repeat – the ball arced perfectly and slammed into the top corner of the Marseille goal.

He smiled slightly, but the screen suddenly switched to a basketball news report, and he was about to change the channel.

A dark-skinned man with sharp eyes appeared in front of the camera.

He was wearing a blue tracksuit, his chin slightly raised, and his brows revealed a kingly weariness.

"I think this is a big blow to me because I can never put on my jersey and play on the court again."

"But it's not a bad feeling."

Roy froze, his finger hovering over the remote control.

"I've been battling retirement; it's just a matter of time."

"This is the last time I will announce my retirement."

The man paused, his eyes as calm as the deep sea.

"I didn't care much about this match, but I was sincere in my attitude towards it, and the match was sincere in its attitude towards me. It's that simple."

The last scene of the show.

During the replay of the players' entrance ceremony, Ray Klay, the former Bulls announcer specially hired by the 76ers, made his final announcement in his distinctive voice:
"Michael Jordan, number 23, from North Carolina, standing at 6 feet 6 inches tall!!!"

Roy shrugged and changed the channel.

History never repeats itself, but it always rhymes.

(End of this chapter)