258 In Trouble Part 1 (2/2)
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Cristiano Ronaldo was the golden boy of Portugal; with expertise in dribbling, his footwork was exceptional. In the current football scene, he was one of the few players who could seemingly perform magic with his feet.
In addition to that was his handsome appearance. He had won the hearts of countless football fans the moment he had come to Old Trafford. Wearing jersey number seven left behind by Beckham, he ran back and forth on both sides of the field, putting to use his dazzling techniques to break through his opponents and earn cheers in The Theatre of Dreams. On the spectators' stand on the north side, there was a banner that would appear in every home match:
There is only one Ronaldo!
Meanwhile, Franck Ribéry was only considered an ”old rookie.” Unlike Ronaldo, who had a secured position both in Portugal's National Football Team and Manchester United, Ribéry was only a main player with Nottingham Forest. The summon from the French National Football Team was just a start for him.
Ribéry was pushed back into the backfield by Cristiano Ronaldo. He could not have helped in the offense even if he wanted to. Along with him, another player being suppressed was the left back Leighton Baines.
The Frenchman admitted that his opponent was good; incredibly good. He did not dare to give an inch of slack when he was facing off against Ronaldo. Just a second of carelessness would allow Ronaldo to break through with his dribble and directly threaten the area behind them.
He needed support from somewhere, just not the left back Leighton Baines. Baines still had to carefully pull Rooney, who had come to the wings to coordinate with Ronaldo, away. Both Ronaldo and Rooney were exceptionally brilliant youths from their respective countries.
This was how rich and powerful teams were; they could easily put together the best youths of each nation.
But Forest also had the best.
Cristiano Ronaldo felt a little contempt for the Scarface before him. Regardless of fame, technique, achievements, or looks, this man was a long-shot away from him.
Manchester United, who was leading, played in a relaxed manner. This included Ronaldo. He stopped the ball less than three meters before Ribéry and began to execute stepovers. His speed was incredible, and both of his feet flew over the ball in a flurry. However, he did not try to make a break in any direction. It was merely a fake out.
Ribéry was taken in by the opponent's speedy movements and took a step backward. But Ronaldo did not make a breakthrough with the ball. Instead, he stood where he was and smiled at him.
This was clearly not a kind smile. Since he was young, Ribéry had been faced with this expression from numerous people. At times it was because of his looks; other times because he was poor. He knew exactly what the expression meant. It was a mocking smile.
Bloody hell! This Portuguese lad is looking down on me!
This is not just a football match anymore! This is a bloody war! I am going to make you pay, you piece of s**t!
Ronaldo started a step over again. This time he slightly nudged the ball outward, and Ribéry surged forward. Seeing him move, Ronaldo used his right heel and knocked it back inwards behind him, planning to break through from behind Ribéry.
Ribéry was not a clumsy center back; his turning speed was not at all slow. Ronaldo had just spun around when Ribéry turned in the same direction to block his path forward. But Ronaldo's reflexes were even quicker. With a glimpse of his shadow, Ronaldo immediately realized what had happened. This time, he swiped backward with his left heel and nudged the ball back to his right side.
With his center of gravity still in the midst of adjusting, Ribéry had nothing left up his sleeve. He could only watch as the opponent who had mocked him dribbled past him from his side and broke through with a swagger.
”Ronaldo passes to the center!”
Nistelrooy jumped up to attack the goal with a header but was beaten to it by Piqué. After training with Hierro for the competition, the improvement in Piqué was as apparent as in George Wood.
Although Piqué had managed to head the ball away, he could not get it too far under Nistelrooy's disruption.
Roy Keane dashed forward again. The commentator was right. The Keane of today was truly excited. Based on his previous matches, it was rather unusual for him to stick so closely to the penalty area.
George Wood gave Keane a glare as he noticed him rushing forward. You want to go at it again?
”Roy Keane has arrived once more! Ah… George Wood!”
Taking the risk of having Keane's shoes slam into his face, Wood jumped up in front of Keane and headed the ball. Keane's leg was already in motion, but he suddenly saw a dark shadow come into view and the ball disappeared.
Keane did not continue his motion of shooting at the goal but also did not withdraw his foot. After Wood headed the ball out, Keane conveniently gave Wood's arm a kick. As if nothing had happened, Wood dashed off immediately after landing. The ball was still within the danger zone, and Gary Neville was running towards it.
Young George Wood was clearly faster than Gary Neville. He managed to reach before Neville and kicked the ball towards the front. This was a great chance for Forest Team to launch a counterattack, but the referee's whistle sounded.
Eastwood, who had just run out, heard the whistle and gestured helplessly with his hands. He did not understand where the problem was.
Tang En ran to the sidelines from the technical area, loudly complaining the ridiculousness of the judgment. ”Advantage clause! The Advantage clause! Dammit!”