Awakening the Messi template, Florentino Pérez begs me to join Real Madrid

May 24, 2011, Sydney, Australia, Australia Stadium

In the final round of the group stage, the UAE will face South Korea. Both teams have already secured qualification with 6 points from two wins. The only suspense in this match is who will top the group – and the group winner will face Syria, the runner-up from Group A, in the quarterfinals.

"Syria..." Old Li tapped his pen on the tactics board during the pre-match analysis meeting, "Three group stage matches, 4 goals scored, 7 goals conceded, barely squeezing out of the quarterfinals by a single goal difference. Truly the minnows of the quarterfinals."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the entire team: "And we are first in Group C."

There was a moment of silence in the locker room.

"So," Old Li continued, "whoever finishes first in their group between the UAE and South Korea will go after Syria, the easy target. Whoever finishes second will have to come after us."

He put down his pen and looked at the whole team:

"This afternoon, the whole team went to watch this game. You'll see for yourselves how our future opponents play."

At 3 p.m., the entire Chinese youth team appeared in the away stand of the Australian stadium. They were wearing matching sportswear and sat in the reserved area, just like a regular spectator group.

Before the match began, when the starting lineups for both sides were announced, murmurs arose from the stands.

"Ya Lian has rotated five key players." Wu Lei looked at the lineup list on his phone. "Their number 10 Omar and number 9 Mabkhout are both on the bench."

"South Korea is similar," Chen Liang leaned over, "Their star player and key midfielder aren't playing."

Old Li sat in the front row, arms crossed, his face expressionless.

At 3:30 p.m., the referee blew the whistle.

The competition has begun—if it can still be called a "competition".

For the first five minutes, both sides passed the ball around in midfield at a pace as slow as a training match. There was no pressing, no sprinting, the passing was weak, and there were frequent mistakes, yet no one stepped up to counter-press.

In the 12th minute, an unforced error by the UAE team resulted in the ball going directly to the feet of the South Korean striker. The striker took two steps and unleashed a long-range shot from outside the penalty area—the ball went wildly wide, flying towards the second tier of the stands.

A few scattered boos came from the stands. There weren't many fans present; most were local migrant workers and international students, who were clearly dissatisfied with the "performance."

"What the hell is that?" Chen Liang couldn't help but mutter under his breath.

Wu Shi stared at the field. The UAE players were strolling around, and so were the South Korean players. Occasionally, someone would attempt a breakthrough, but the movements were perfunctory, like they were just going through the motions. Defense? They'd just stretch their legs out a little, that was it.

In the 27th minute, the UAE team won a free kick in the attacking third. The player taking the free kick took three steps and casually kicked the ball – it flew high, over the wall and the crossbar, and directly towards the running track behind the goal.

"Damn, I could do that too," a teammate in the back muttered quietly.

Wu Lei sat next to Wu Shi and said in a low voice, "They are conserving their energy and avoiding injury."

"He's also picking his opponents," Wu Shi added.

Wu Lei glanced at him and nodded: "Everyone's afraid of getting first place in the group."

"Why?" Chen Liang leaned closer and asked.

"Wouldn't it be easier to attack Syria? Do they think we're inferior to Syria?"

"Because we finished first in our group, we're very likely to face Japan in the semifinals," Wu Lei explained calmly. "Japan is in the other half of the bracket, and they've basically secured first place in their group. Neither Yi Jianlian nor South Korea wants to face Japan in the semifinals so early."

Chen Liang was stunned for a moment, then realized: "So they'd rather get second place in the group and beat us?"

"In their eyes, there's no difference between playing against us and playing against Syria." Wu Lei's voice was calm, but Wu Shi detected a hint of coldness. "They're all pushovers, opponents they can beat just by going through the motions."

Wu Shi looked towards the field. The head coach of the UAE team was sitting on the bench, legs crossed, chatting and laughing with his assistant coach, not watching the game at all.

The South Korean team's head coach even took out his phone and started scrolling.

A sense of being belittled quietly spread through the hearts of the national youth team members.

The first half ended 0-0. Both sides combined for only two shots, both of which were off target.

During halftime, Yi Jianlian and the South Korean team didn't even go back to the locker room. The players just drank water and chatted on the sidelines, and the atmosphere was as relaxed as if they were having a social gathering.

"I want to get off the field," Chen Liang gritted his teeth. "I want to go up there right now and show them what a real competition is like."

"calm."

Old Li turned around, his voice not loud.

"Remember this feeling. Remember how they're playing right now, how they're laughing. Then, in the quarterfinals, make sure they're no longer laughing."

The second half began, and the situation remained unchanged.

In the 61st minute, the UAE substituted Omar. This "Gulf Messi" played well for ten minutes after coming on – his passes after two successful dribbles were quite threatening, but that was about it. Ten minutes later, he reverted to his leisurely pace.

In the 75th minute, South Korea brought on their star striker. Three minutes after entering the game, he successfully broke the offside trap and had a one-on-one opportunity. Facing the onrushing goalkeeper, he chose to… gently pass the ball to the goalkeeper.

The goalkeeper hesitated for a moment, then caught the ball.

A huge chorus of boos erupted from the stands. This time, even the neutral Australian fans couldn't take it anymore.

"They're insulting football!" a fan shouted.

In the final stages of the match, both sides seemed to feel that a 0-0 draw was too embarrassing, and finally "cooperated" to score a goal.

In the 88th minute, an UAE defender made an unnecessary foul in the penalty area, and the referee awarded a penalty. The South Korean player took the penalty and gently pushed the ball into the middle; the UAE goalkeeper made a symbolic dive to his left, and the ball went in.

1: 0.

In stoppage time, the UAE team won a corner kick. The ball was delivered to the far post, where a South Korean defender misjudged the header, and the UAE striker, unmarked, headed the ball wide.

The final whistle blew, 1-0.

South Korea "won" the match, taking first place in their group and will face Syria in the quarterfinals.

The UAE team "lost" and finished second in their group, where they will face the Chinese U23 team in the quarterfinals.

The players from both teams shook hands on the field, all smiles, patting each other on the shoulder, as if they had just finished a pleasant training match.

In the stands, all the members of the national youth team stood up in silence.

"You all saw it?" Old Li's voice was exceptionally clear in the quiet stands. "This is our next opponent. This is how they see us—a game we can walk around and win, a pushover we can easily crush."

No one spoke. But fire burned in everyone's eyes.

"Remember today." Old Li turned to the whole team. "Remember their smiles, remember their nonchalance, remember how they 'chose' us as their opponents. And then—"

He paused, then said, word by word:

"Four days later, in Perth, we'll make them regret their choice."

The atmosphere on the bus back was terribly oppressive.

Wu Shi sat by the window, watching the street scenes of Shirley flash by outside.

He kept replaying Omar's performance in the ten minutes after he came on in his mind—his delicate touch, perfect ball control, and accurate passing.

It was only ten minutes, but it was enough to show the skill of this "Gulf Messi".

"Brother Lei," Wu Shi asked in a low voice, "what do you think of Omar's moves?"

Wu Lei paused for a few seconds: "Very strong. If he plays seriously, he'll be a big problem."

"But he wasn't serious today."

"Yes..." Wu Lei turned his head and looked at Wu Shi, "What do you want to say?"

Wu Shi looked out the window and said slowly, "I want him to know the price of underestimating his opponent."

Wu Lei smiled, a cold, sharp smile: "I want to too."

That night, the whole team went crazy during training.

No one complained of being tired. Every pass was filled with fury, and every shot seemed designed to pierce the net.

Old Li stood on the sidelines, watching the players practice late into the night, without calling a halt.

He knew that some fires needed to be lit.

Some shames need to be washed away by one's own hands.

Late at night, Wu Shi lay in bed as a system notification appeared in his mind:

[Strong competitive spirit and team honor were detected]

[Bonus Mission Generated: Defeat the underestimated UAE team in the quarterfinals]

[Mission Reward: Integration level increased by an additional 0.5%, unlocks the new module "Key Match Mental Fortitude"]

[Failure Penalty: None]

Wu Shi closed his eyes.

Four days later, in Perth.

He will let that "Gulf Messi," and all those who look down on them, know—

Choosing us as their opponent was the biggest mistake they made in this tournament.