Even goalkeeper Carrasso, mid-dive, could hear the whisper of netting.
Swish!
The ball kissed the post and nestled in the far corner.
Goal!
The deadlock was broken!
And by Julien once again.
Boom!
Instantly, the entire stadium erupted like an underwater volcano erupting—blazing hot, rumbling, waves surging!
Twenty minutes of accumulated hope crystallized into reality.
"Julien!"
"Julien!!"
Bastia's faithful roared their hero's name, waving everything in their hands—flags, jerseys, scarves. A blue tide rolled from the Mediterranean, crashing over the Stade Armand Cesari.
Julien spun and slid on his knees out of the play, then collapsed in the corner flag area with both arms raised like a conductor orchestrating the "sea" above into even more turbulent waves!
"Too beautiful, Julien! Absolutely beautiful!" Lukaku, closest to him, charged over and embraced him, shouting while both waved to the stands.
This was home advantage.
The rest of the Bastia players flooded over, all thrilled at their captain's goal.
Once you break the 0-0 stalemate, everything else flows. Bastia would play with more composure from here on.
On the sideline, beside the celebrating Hadzibegic, Gillot furrowed his brow in thought. Bordeaux was now in a passive position. What should they do?
Down by one—should they attack or maintain the defensive approach?
It wasn't really a difficult decision.
In the stands, Blanc, watching Julien bathed in admiration, couldn't help but say: "Now I think about it, the most correct decision I made during my tenure was probably promoting Julien."
Zidane shook his head. "No. If you hadn't, Deschamps would have. True talent is never buried. You must always believe that."
Blanc laughed quietly. "Then my years in charge were a complete failure. I accomplished nothing."
Zidane continued shaking his head. "Quite the opposite. You accomplished a great deal."
Blanc looked puzzled.
Zidane smiled: "You sacrificed your own future with the national team to bring peace to France."
The moment Zidane said this, Blanc understood his meaning.
He smiled too.
Indeed, that was something he took real pride in. Previous managers lacked the courage to remove star players from the national team, but he didn't care. He directly kicked out Nasri, Benzema, and others.
Before departing, he also left Deschamps with a clean slate.
Now Deschamps, building around Julien and deploying youth heavily, might not see immediate results, but the future looked bright.
Blanc sighed: "I really wonder how far Julien will take France. Hopefully beyond what we old guys achieved."
Both pairs of eyes turned to the field. They gazed expectantly at Julien returning to center circle.
This child born in Paris's suburbs, who'd gotten lost in London and found rebirth in Bastia.
How far would he take France?
Nobody had answers yet.
A whistle sounded.
Play resumed.
With Julien's goal now in the net, many Bastia supporters expected Bordeaux to open up in attack. But surprisingly, they continued defending.
The TF1 commentator noted: "Gillot probably feels Bordeaux hasn't built enough confidence for an open battle with Bastia yet. Their defensive setup has been successful, yes, they conceded, but that goal was purely Julien's individual brilliance. Tactically, Bordeaux succeeded."
However, Hadzibegic disagreed. He glanced at Gillot beside him.
A suspicion formed in his mind—was Bordeaux waiting for Julien to come off?
Hadzibegic's suspicion wasn't baseless. He had reasoning.
Julien's importance to Bastia was indisputable. And Julien's somewhat fragile injury history was well-known. In previous matches, Hadzibegic would regularly substitute Julien off early for rest.
Against Atletico Madrid the previous match, Julien played nearly the full ninety minutes.
Therefore, Gillot must believe Hadzibegic would follow his pattern of removing Julien early for recovery.
From Bordeaux's perspective, connecting those dots, Gillot's intentions became crystal clear: defend stubbornly to prevent further concessions, wait for Julien's removal, then counterattack.
Hadzibegic realized he needed to guard against this.
So, during play, he ordered Bastia to slow their tempo, preserving energy.
After one dead-ball situation, he beckoned Julien over and said: "Take it easy. Watch your stamina. You might be subbed late this match—possibly not at all. Budget your energy accordingly."
"Got it!" Julien understood the assignment.
Play continued as time wore on.
Wave after wave of Bastia attack encountered Bordeaux's stubborn wall.
The defensive pressure on Julien intensified further.
Opposition challenges grew increasingly aggressive. Now when defending Julien, almost nobody went for the ball—they went for Julien himself.
But with Hadzibegic's warning, Julien didn't waste energy on futile dribbles.
As a winger, you couldn't constantly attack anyway. You had to pick your moments.
But that moment never came before half-time.
A whistle sounded.
The referee signaled the end of the first half.
Both Bastia players and fans were satisfied with this half.
Despite deploying primarily a reserve side, they led by one. That was enough.
Bordeaux was similarly content with the result.
In the locker room, Gillot emphasizing: "We held. That's how we play. Their midfield threat is minimal, so most of our focus just needs to stay on Julien. Lock him down, and our defense is completely fine. That big striker of theirs has no aerial threat, so watch his feet more carefully."
Gillot spoke continuously while his players rested and listened.
This half had actually demanded significant effort defensively.
Particularly the flank defending Julien. Every time Julien attacked, it was mentally and physically taxing.
Sertić turned to Tremoulinas: "I have a yellow card. You'll need to cover more next half. I can't be aggressive now."
This defender with Serbian and French dual nationality had been roughed up somewhat by Julien this half.
If not for his decisive yellow-card foul, Julien likely would have scored a second.
But carrying a yellow into the second half complicated matters, so Sertić gave the warning.
Marking Julien solo was pure fantasy. Even multi-player defense required synchronization.
They'd watched Julien's highlight reels and saw him slip through gaps despite heavy coverage. Many teammates watching felt baffled: how could someone with Julien's height move so quickly? It defied physics.
Maybe that was just the mark of genius talent.
Meanwhile, in London...
At Arsenal's Colney training ground.
Wenger and Emiliano Martinez sat together. Wenger had specifically called him into his office to watch the match together.
They were watching the Bastia-Bordeaux clash.
After the first half ended, Wenger asked Emiliano: "What do you think of Bastia?"
Emiliano considered before answering: "Very strong. I think they might win Ligue 1. That's just their bench squad."
Wenger neither confirmed nor denied it. "With you joining them, they'll be even stronger. Work hard to win the championship. Your performance there will be tracked by us constantly."
"Yes Boss!" That was exactly what Emiliano wanted.
Sitting on the bench at Arsenal versus playing for a title-contending team—Ligue 1 champions still counted as champions.
If he performed brilliantly, returning to Arsenal would mean significantly more opportunities.
Wenger then added: "As long as Julien takes the field, Bastia has a floor. When you join in January, build a good relationship with Julien. You're close with Giroud, yeah? Giroud and Julien get along well too. You could chat more, talk about Arsenal sometimes."
Emiliano wasn't foolish. Understanding Wenger's implication immediately—act as an intermediary, influence Julien's choices?
"Yeah, sounds good."
Emiliano agreed. He thought Arsenal was solid. If Julien came to Arsenal, nothing wrong with that.
They chatted more before the TV showed the second-half kickoff.
Wenger commented: "Bordeaux is betting on defending until Julien leaves the pitch. But looking at how Julien played that first half holding back—this looks like he'll go the full ninety. Bordeaux's plan might backfire."
The professor would occasionally share observations during matches, and Emiliano recorded them all. This was valuable experience.
Back to the pitch...
The second half began with Bordeaux largely unchanged.
Still defending.
As time ticked by, watching Gillot's expression grow increasingly sour, Hadzibegic confirmed his prediction was correct.
Bordeaux was waiting for Julien to exit.
Too bad for them.
Julien was playing the full match tonight!
Whoosh!
Suddenly, gasps erupted from the Stade Armand Cesari.
Though Bordeaux held defensively without attacking, Bastia's relentless waves and constant passing rotations consistently found opportunities.
Julien seized a chance to break down the right flank, immediately throwing Bordeaux's defense into disarray.
As he neared the end line, he whipped a back-heeled pass.
After extended training of his weaker foot, Julien's right-foot technique had improved dramatically.
The pass found the perfect spot between Enrique and the goalkeeper.
Enrique and the keeper both hesitated a moment too long, giving Lukaku—grappling with Planiteus, the first touch.
Their feet extended almost simultaneously.
Lukaku in front, Planiteus behind.
Their feet ran nearly parallel as both struck with all their might!
Thump!
This shot carried immense power—both players extended with full force, one attempting a desperate clearance, the other a violent drive.
The ball rocketed straight toward goal without deviation.
Keeper Carrasso had no time to react.
The ball thundered into the net!
2-0!
Lukaku scored his tenth league goal, averaging one per game, he was very efficient. Yet he ranked only third in the scoring charts.
After firing, he and Planiteus tumbled to the ground together. Seeing the ball enter the net, Lukaku quickly rose and charged toward the sideline.
Pounding his chest, he puffed out his pride toward the stands.
As teammates swarmed over, Lukaku grabbed Julien: "What a pass! Give me two more, and I've got my hat trick! Hahaha!"
Inwardly, Lukaku thought: 'two more goals and he'd surpass Aubameyang, becoming second in the scoring charts.'
Why not first?
He knew better.
First-place Julien was simply unreachable. He understood his own limitations.
Lukaku recognized most his goals came against weaker sides, while Julien delivered hat tricks in actual tough battles.
How could he compete?
He couldn't.
Besides, as a striker, Lukaku wanted Julien feeding him passes anyway.
Thinking this way, second place felt quite acceptable.
The TF1 commentator, after an explosion of excited commentary, said: "This 61st-minute goal probably completely disrupts Bordeaux's rhythm. Down two, can they keep defending? If they do, it's pure surrender.
For Bastia, there's still thirty minutes. Maintain the lead until the end, and they become Ligue 1's leader!
Never has a promoted team topped the standings after just ten matches!
While it's just a temporary taste of first place, it's still first.
This sufficiently demonstrates Bastia's competitiveness this season. Will Ligue 1 have back-to-back upsets?
Montpellier won their first Ligue 1 title last season. Now Bastia this season?"
On the sideline, Hadzibegic, watching Gillot's furrowed brow, fought an urge to laugh out loud.
Simultaneously, his eyes on Julien brimmed with admiration. He knew Julien and De Bruyne regularly did extra weak-foot training.
This pass came directly from that work.
Perfectly placed.
Talent without hard work is nothing. Hard Work without talent is nothing.
After all, the top five leagues don't lack talent or effort individually, but the combination is rare.
2-0.
This scoreline clearly troubled Gillot. Most critically, Julien showed no signs of leaving the pitch.
Time was slipping away.
Gillot sighed internally.
He made a decision.
Substitution!
After the ball went dead and play restarted, Bordeaux made changes.
They removed Sertić, now carrying a yellow.
They brought on a striker for the attack—Bellion.
This former Manchester United player was mostly forgotten by fans.
Simultaneously, Bastia also substituted.
Palmieri came off; Mané came on.
Hadzibegic, having already spotted Gillot's tactical adjustments, successfully predicted again.
The opposition brought in a quick striker; he brought in a quick winger.
Opening up for attacking play?
Let's test it.
Hadzibegic looked satisfied, glancing sideways at Gillot.
Gillot sensed something and turned, their eyes meeting.
Each showed different expressions.
Hadzibegic appeared supremely confident: 'How can we lose with this squad?'
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