"No.....!" The anxious voice rang out, it was the center forward, Giroud, frowning and shaking his head in distress, "Don't shoot from there! I beg you, Ma'el! Break through and cross!"
"Don't shoot!" Nasri was also jumping anxiously on the spot, scratching his ears, "Captain! Don't shoot!!"
"Pass the ball!!" Menez, who had just come on, ran back with his hand outstretched towards him, while turning his head to observe the goal.
"Ma'el! Ma'el!" Deschamps' voice also sounded behind him, probably trying to persuade him as well.
"Hoo....." Ma'el took a deep breath, withstanding all this pressure and resistance, and took a step to run towards the football.
The De Lorne Cup was not far behind his back, he could even sense its presence.
Since it was right there, let him make a final attempt in his own way!
This could be the last shot, or perhaps the second-to-last, third-to-last... In any case, he had to take it!!
"Bang!!"
