Football: He suffered a broken leg at the start of the game, but partnered with Haaland!

Gullit dribbled forward, spotting Robben's run, and delivered a low, flat pass with the instep of his right foot. Robben received the ball with his back to goal, not even glancing at the defender behind him. He then casually flicked the ball with the backheel of his left foot.

The ball slipped from Robben's heel and into the open space ahead. It was a brilliant one-two pass between two generations of top Dutch stars.

He touched the ball twice and easily got past the red team's defensive midfielder who came up to cover.

And the landing point of this penetrating pass was none other than Sun Yang, who was making a high-speed run from the back row!

Sun Yang smoothly controlled the ball. The god-like talent, the speed of Caniggia, the Son of the Wind, was fully activated. In the right flank, Sun Yang unleashed his explosive power of 10.07 seconds in the 100-meter dash onto the grass without reservation, turning the football match into a 100-meter sprint.

With only the whistling wind in his ears, he drove straight down the right flank, reaching the edge of the Red Team's penalty area.

The red team's center-back hurriedly came to cover, standing sideways at the corner of the penalty area, trying to cut off the inside cut-in route.

Sun Yang did not slow down. While moving at high speed, he pushed off with his right foot, and his entire upper body suddenly tilted to the right baseline, with his shoulders dropping exaggeratedly in sync.

This highly deceptive body language made everyone's nerves jump to the same conclusion: he was going to make a strong run down the wing and cross! The red team's center-back was completely fooled, and his center of gravity subconsciously shifted towards the byline.

In that half-second of the opponent's center of gravity shifting.

Sun Yang quickly flicked the ball to the left with his right toe! His powerful ankle strength and balance pulled his body back from its high-speed forward momentum.

Sudden stop, change direction, cut inside!

With two consecutive long strides and a wide lateral movement, he stormed into the edge of the penalty area as if it were empty. The Red Team center-back, thrown off balance, buckled at the ankle and slid awkwardly to his knees on the edge of the penalty area.

The view in front of me was open and expansive.

With his gaze fixed on the far corner of the goal, Sun Yang planted his right foot into the turf as a pivot. His left foot then precisely sliced ​​into the bottom, slightly outside area of ​​the ball with the inside of his foot.

The tens of thousands of mechanical, tedious, and cruel extra training sessions in the solitary confinement room transformed into a perfect answer in real combat the instant this kick was delivered.

Robben's inside-cutting-in-the-goal instinct is activated!

"Bang!"

The instep struck the ball, producing a dull thud.

The ball soared into the air, tracing an exaggerated inward-spinning arc. It flew over the heads of the defenders who attempted to intercept, nestling perfectly into the top left corner of the goal – an absolute theoretical dead end.

The red team's goalkeeper launched his body into the air like a spring, stretching it to its limit, but he couldn't even touch a gust of wind; the bizarre arc completely escaped his defensive radius.

The ball, with strong inward spin, plummeted downwards and slammed into the net.

1 to 1 draw!

Sun Yang didn't celebrate much after scoring. He let out a long breath, savoring the solid feeling of the ball hitting the back of his foot when he shot. Tens of thousands of mechanical repetitions had truly etched this skill into his body's muscle memory.

Old Luo rushed over from the back field. He jumped up, grabbed Sun Yang's neck, and ruffled his black hair.

"Beautiful! You little rascal!" Robben exclaimed excitedly, making no attempt to hide his admiration for the goal. "That timing of that change of direction and slowdown was pure art! I dare say you've already mastered seven or eight tenths of my inside-cutting technique!"

Sun Yang brushed aside his messy hair, turned to look at Robben, and raised an eyebrow: "Only seven or eight points?"

"Good heavens, the rest is all in the micro-management." Robben spread his hands, pointed to the grass, and shrugged.

"Listen, when you finally take your shot, your supporting foot is about five centimeters closer to the ball. Don't underestimate those five centimeters; they will limit the range of your thigh's swing. If you face a world-class goalkeeper in the Champions League, your ball speed will be slightly slower, enough for them to anticipate and make a save. Remember, you must leave absolute space for your shooting leg."

Sun Yang took a deep breath and firmly imprinted the parameter "five centimeters" into his mind.

The match then became incredibly intense. Both sides pushed the pace of attack and defense to the limit. In the 35th minute, the Reds, relying on Henry's powerful individual ability, drew a foul just outside the penalty area, and Rijkaard's free kick sealed the victory.

In the 43rd minute, Sun Yang delivered a precise 50-meter low pass that tore through the defense, and Gullit, like a divine soldier descending from the sky, volleyed home to equalize once again.

The referee blew his whistle, and the first half ended with the score tied at 2-2.

The big screen at the Dream Stadium switched to a 15-minute countdown, and the lights softened accordingly.

Sun Yang walked to the sidelines, grabbed a water bottle, took a big gulp, wiped the sweat off his face with a towel, and headed straight for the center circle.

Gullit and Rijkaard were sitting on the grass in the center circle, their hands behind their backs, chatting idly.

Sun Yang walked between the two Dutch superstars and plopped down on his seat.

Having participated in several dream-based battles, he knew these veterans' temperaments all too well. The more you try to hide your true intentions, the less they'll respect you. The only way to get these old hands talking is to be direct and shameless in asking for their advice.

"Luther, Frank, stop holding back and teach me something useful, okay?" Sun Yang got straight to the point, his tone sincere.

Rijkaard turned his head, raising his thick eyebrows: "Teach you what? Come on, buddy, that world-class goal you just scored could get you anywhere in the top five leagues."

Sun Yang shook his head and pointed directly to the midfield heart of the football field.

"Let's not talk about shooting, let's talk about space management during transitions between offense and defense." Sun Yang looked directly into Rijkaard's eyes.

"Every time the Red Team transitions from offense to defense, you're always two or three seconds ahead of me in the defensive zone. That's not just about being fast, it's about anticipation. For example, the time you stole the ball from me, my first instinct was to immediately counter-press, but I missed and you easily got past me. I want to know, back when you guys were playing Total Football at San Siro, how exactly did you judge the positioning of the first defensive line and the timing of their retreat?"

Hearing this, Gullit laughed. He slapped Rijkaard's thigh hard with his broad hand, making a crisp sound.

"Did you hear that, old buddy? This kid's finally got a brain. Instead of asking how to dribble past opponents with fancy moves, he's started figuring out how to trap them on the chessboard. That's what a midfield maestro should be thinking about."

Rijkaard abandoned his casual posture, crossed his legs, and greatly admired the Asian lad's keen sense of smell.

As one of the greatest defensive midfielders in football history, Rijkaard's defensive philosophy is an invaluable asset.

"Remember, football is always an art of managing space."

Rijkaard held up a finger and drew several tactical grids in the grass. "Your biggest problem is that your eyes are too 'greedy,' only focused on the ball. That's a striker's job. As a midfield commander, your vision must be forced to rise, to see the vacuum corridors left by the defenders on the grass."

Sun Yang subconsciously held his breath and pricked up his ears.

"Before you prepare to advance or pass the ball, you must have a Plan B in mind." Rijkaard tapped twice on the grass line. "I ask you, if possession is suddenly lost, how many seconds does it take for the nearest defensive teammate to get into position and form the first line of defense?"

Sun Yang's mind raced through images of his usual matches, and he said confidently, "Two seconds."

"Wrong! Only half a second!" Rijkaard interrupted mercilessly. "Think about how you lost the ball in the center circle just now. You immediately counter-pressed, which meant you threw all your defensive focus to me. Faced with your tackle, I didn't even bother to get past you. I just passed the ball out with one foot, and the 30 meters of open space behind you immediately became Henry's backyard for a stroll."

Gullit interjected at the opportune moment, breaking down the tactical essence of Dutch football and feeding it to him in detail:

"Sun, remember this key word—Delay. The first principle of transitioning from attack to defense is always to slow down the opponent's advance, not to force you to immediately pok the ball away. Unless you are 100% certain that you can block all of their passing lanes, the moment you lose possession, don't rush in. Immediately step back to the side and use your body to block the direction of the strong side foot of the player with the ball."

"So this is what's called Jockeying?" Sun Yang gestured with his hands in front of his chest, indicating a famous defensive position.

"Bingo! It's not just about guiding, it's more about cutting through the passing network." Rijkaard stretched his long legs and gestured on the grass. "Facing those passing monsters, you need to use your position, like a knife, to cut off their straight-line path to the most dangerous receiver. Force them to pass safely, or even pass back. The longer the ball stays in the air, the more time your partner has to organize a second line of defense. Understand?"

Every word is precious!

A thought flashed through Sun Yang's mind. This was precisely the part that troubled him most when facing the relentless, high-pressing tactics of the Bundesliga teams. He relied too much on his incredible lung capacity and individual physicality in pressing, neglecting the "big picture" of the defensive system.

"drop!"

The mechanical sound of the system announcing the end of halftime pierced the stadium.

Sun Yang leaped up, bracing himself against the grass, and casually brushed the grass off his shorts. He glanced up at the big screen at the 2-2 score, and his eyes now held less of the bravado and more of a calculating glint.

The second half began with the teams switching sides.

The Red Team kicks off. After a few leisurely passes around the defensive line, the ball is once again passed to the feet of their mastermind, Rijkaard.

The "Black Swan" controlled the ball steadily, raised his head, and began to scan the depth of the attacking third with his hawk-like eyes.

This time, Sun Yang suppressed his instinctive urge to sprint and steal the ball.

He lowered his center of gravity, leaning his body slightly to the side, maintaining a half-meter safety buffer zone with Rijkaard, and steadily retreated with rhythmic, small steps. The entire movement was exquisitely precise, as if calculated, perfectly positioned to meet Rijkaard's pass and the advancing Henry's cross!

The space was successfully cut into a closed loop.

Rijkaard's eyes flashed with admiration as he watched the young man seamlessly apply what he had just learned. But without pausing for a moment, he suddenly pushed off with the outside of his right foot!

Change your passing strategy!

Since the passing lanes were blocked, he decided not to pass. Rijkaard took off at full speed, charging head-on into Sun Yang with overwhelming momentum.

A fierce battle between top midfield maestros erupted in the very first second of the second half!