Chapter 105 — Riding Tailwinds, Howling Into Headwinds; My Style Is Unpredictable
After Lionel Messi pulled one back, Arsenal fans began to feel uneasy.
Don't blame the supporters for being timid or lacking confidence.
Teams like Real Madrid and Barcelona are the kind that can manufacture miracles; they're like venomous snakes — if you don't finish them off, they'll do you harm.
Never mind the possibility of being overturned in the next leg — even tonight, if Barcelona got their momentum going, a comeback to tie it 3–3 with a viral "traffic" goal was entirely possible.
Arsenal fans watched the whole match with hearts in their mouths.
At the decisive points of the game,
at the most critical moments,
when they were anxious and fearful,
that big boy they called the Ice Cream Prince stepped up, and scored such an important goal in such a spectacular way.
Happiness arrived so suddenly
it was hard to believe!
"Smack!"
"Darling, does it hurt?"
"It hurts!"
"Then it's not a dream — Xia Qi scored! Darling, Xia Qi scored, ah! Xia… I love you… I want to have your babies!"
Scenes like that were everywhere.
Many "good boyfriends," once the goal was confirmed, paid no mind to the burning face or the girlfriend's inappropriate words.
They blushed and roared hoarse-throated shouts: "Xia, I'll have your babies — no, my wife wants to, damn it! Spit! Spit! …Xia Qi, you're a man's man!"
In an instant, the whole Emirates erupted like a suddenly erupting volcano.
That high, triumphant cry of "Xia Qi!" pierced the sky and reverberated across London; in every street and alley the name "Xia Qi" could be heard.
Even in White Hart Lane's neighborhood households the two words spread, though appended with a rude expletive: "Xia Qi — shit! — fuck off!"
After the goal, Xia Qi redeemed Eric Cantona's collar-rise celebration.
As he flicked his collar at the south stand, the DJ shouted: "Arsenal, April 3, year 127 of the Gunners—our Ice Cream Prince has achieved a quadruple tonight, successfully reclaimed the throne and is now crowned King of the Emirates—ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Kingdom of the Emirates to attend our King's coronation…"
Arsenal fans loved to play along and chanted: "King! King!"
This time it wasn't just two quick shouts: the boys performed a knighting salute to Xia Qi, and the girls enacted a noblewoman's curtsy to their monarch.
The atmosphere was fervent to the point of near-religious worship and fanaticism.
Xia Qi stretched his arms wide as if to embrace the world, closed his eyes and luxuriated in the cheers from the stands.
"Damn, I want to kick him in the head!"
Theo Walcott was sour, Mario Balotelli was sour, Martínez, Kevin De Bruyne… all were sour.
Encouraged by everyone's looks, Martínez stealthily crept up behind Xia Qi, planning a kick to his backside.
But the stands didn't like it and erupted into loud boos.
Startled by the sudden chorus of jeers, Martínez slipped and, before he could properly make contact, he tumbled.
The whole stadium burst into laughter … even the usually stern Arsène Wenger laughed.
But that wasn't the worst indignity for Martínez. To his despair, Santi Cazorla shouted loudly: "Assassin!"
Serge Aurier yelled: "Catch the assassin!"
Then Mario Balotelli, that silly bull, leapt forward and pinned him to the turf, and teammates piled on like a Rōhan formation…
What the hell was this!
Xia Qi showed off, I got injured!
Is there any justice?
…
After the match resumed, Arsenal fans' enthusiasm did not wane — it surged even higher!
Their cheers never stopped once play restarted.
Lionel Messi was still lively, but his teammates were somewhat affected by the home atmosphere and fatigue set in; after the restart Barcelona played a little disordered.
Tito Vilanova immediately sent Cesc Fàbregas to warm up.
A huge chorus of boos rose again.
Fàbregas had been mentally prepared for this treatment before coming; he jogged calmly at the sideline.
But Arsenal fans were not going to let him off easy.
As the saying goes: the deeper the love, the deeper the hate!
On the terraces were filthy insults, indecent gestures, even thrown objects…
Seeing their fans getting out of hand, Wenger's face turned ashen as he walked from the dugout toward the noisy south stand.
He asked the fans not to shout abuse or make obscene gestures.
"Every person who chases a dream should not be mocked, even if they disagree with us or walk a different path…"
Wenger may not be the most revered coach in the world, but he is definitely the most respected in the hearts of Arsenal fans.
The Emirates quieted down.
In that instant,
Cesc Fàbregas' eyes welled with tears.
The fans' curses didn't break him — they only made him stronger. But when the professor stepped forward to protect him as usual, he bowed his head in shame and then lifted it with tears streaming down his face.
Fàbregas came on to replace an exhausted Xavi.
After the substitution, Barcelona indeed came alive; under Fàbregas' midfield organization they quickly earned two shots.
This showed that Fàbregas still had fuel left in the tank; one wonders which nerve misfired — a man who could have been Arsenal's star instead returned to his old club to sit on the bench for Xavi, effectively wasting part of his career.
If Fàbregas' talent is scored 10, through his whole life he used 8 units of that talent — meaning he never quite reached his professional peak.
His highlights are highlights of his life, but not the highest level of his profession.
In short: he could have done better… his experience shows that choices matter more than effort.
…
At the 85th minute, Cesc Fàbregas, Andrés Iniesta and Lionel Messi combined with dazzling short passes to penetrate Arsenal's midfield and reached the edge of Arsenal's penalty area.
On the flanks, Pedro and Alexis Sánchez sprinted forward, each dragging a fullback with them.
At the edge of the box, Fàbregas and Iniesta played a quick wall pass; Messi suddenly darted into the middle of the box, drawing Samuel Umtiti and Per Mertesacker into a double-team.
At the same moment, Fàbregas received the ball and immediately played a pass.
That pass was exquisite — it wasn't directly to Messi, but behind Umtiti.
Sánchez suddenly accelerated, shaking off his marker, and collected the ball behind Umtiti.
Mertesacker had no choice but to abandon marking Messi and cover for his partner.
Sánchez, cutting into the box, didn't shoot; he played the ball back to Messi.
Messi received it, then dropped his shoulder and nudged the ball, faking past Umtiti.
"Lovely Messi shoulder drop!"
"Messi's shoulder drop is so deceptive; Umtiti looked like a scarecrow in front of him."
Mertesacker was tragic again — facing the scramble he had no options and had to cover his partner; this time he was the one defending Messi.
While Mertesacker was recovering, Messi, who a second earlier had been changing direction, somehow stopped his body against physics.
It was as if inertia didn't exist for that instant.
While braking, Messi completed a change of direction and Mertesacker crashed to the ground under the extreme shift.
As his face kissed the turf, Mertesacker wanted to reach out and grab Messi's ankle to see if it could turn 360 degrees.
No inertia — you can accept that as one explanation: Messi's low center of gravity and steady balance are well known.
But human ankles can't rotate 360 degrees, right? After defying physics, is this defying biology?
Did humans invent football to rebel against science????
On the pitch, Martinez, exposed to Messi, rushed off his line toward Messi.
In that instant, Messi clipped the ball up with the tip of his left foot.
The ball arced like half the McDonald's logo over Martinez's head and into the net!
Boom!
The long-muted traveling Barcelona fans went crazy for Messi!
They chanted his name wildly and smugly pointed their chins at the Arsenal fans.
Coronation of a king??
Hmph!
Small-town mentality!
These days, who doesn't have heroes?
Are we proud now?
We are so humble!
They hysterically cried: "Messi, the King! Messi, the King!"
Yet excess ruins it. After the goal, Messi's smile vanished when he heard the crowd call him king.
At this moment, calling Messi "the King" sounded more like mockery; if it weren't his own fans, Messi might have lost his temper on the spot.
"85th minute: Messi doubles up and makes it 4–2! He keeps Barcelona's hopes of progression alive."
"Pressure is back on Arsenal. A two-goal lead is significant, but at home you still want to keep as much advantage as possible…"
The stadium temperature was the same as before, but Arsenal fans' hearts chilled.
They knew that although Barcelona were behind, the game had taken on a wind — a weird wind.
Wenger also knew Messi's goal would be Barcelona's rallying cry. While Barcelona celebrated, he called Xia Qi over:
"There isn't much time left — at most ten minutes of stoppage. Barcelona will speed up the tempo. For the remaining time, we all drop back and compress Barcelona's space."
"Xia Qi, you mark Messi."
At this crucial turning point, Wenger played his "king sees king" card.
"If you can't stop Messi cleanly, commit fouls early — but avoid a red card."
Beep!
"The match restarts."
"Beautiful!"
"Xia Qi and Kevin De Bruyne combined splendidly to pierce Barcelona's midfield."
"De Bruyne through-ball!"
"Oh! Walcott was a bit slow to start."
"Barcelona are attacking!"
"Fàbregas, feed it to Sánchez."
"Sánchez quickly goes wide and hits a low cross."
"Barcelona are upping the tempo — they can't accept a 4–2 scoreline."
When Barcelona attacked, everyone noticed they no longer looked exactly like Barcelona; they had lost some patience for short possession play.
At this moment, they resembled a Bayern team with both wings flying.
Sánchez took the ball wide; Walcott moved up to intercept, but the young tiger was almost undefended in front of Sánchez.
Sánchez merely laid the ball behind him, and with a deft outside move he tore through.
Luckily, Santi Cazorla provided a strong leg of support.
His timely cover forced Sánchez to pass.
The ball came back to Fàbregas in a reverse triangle.
Kevin De Bruyne immediately lunged at Fàbregas.
Two midfield geniuses from different eras faced off for the first time.
Fàbregas did not act rashly. Facing De Bruyne's press, he executed a Marseille roulette to evade the tackle and pushed the ball to Andrés Iniesta.
Iniesta took it and drove forward. Mikel Arteta sliced inside to block him.
"Oil-fried meatball!"
"That's Iniesta's signature move — both spectacular and practical."
On the pitch, Arteta bent slightly, eyes fixed on Iniesta's footwork.
He had to be serious. Even before Iniesta was famous, that move was called an "oil-fried meatball"; after he became famous, the most brilliant one was called the Little White Meatball.
Just as the most brilliant shoulder fake is called Messi's shoulder drop, the most brilliant roulette is called the Zinedine Zidane roulette (the Marseille turn).
No matter how serious Arteta tried, it was of little use. Iniesta's large-dimension dribble still fooled him and he went the wrong way.
Iniesta dribbled past Arteta and charged into the Arsenal box.
Arsenal's backline adjusted to his arrival; Iniesta took advantage and lifted a chipped pass.
The ball soared over Arsenal's whole defensive line to find Messi, who at some point had burst down the right.
Messi laid the ball across and cut into the box.
"One-on-one!"
"Messi!"
"Again Messi!"
Martínez, still choosing to come out, faced Messi.
Messi deftly chipped the ball with his right foot.
The ball again arced like half the McDonald's logo over Martínez's head and toward the net.
The Barcelona fans behind the goal couldn't contain their cheers.
But!
Xia Qi, assigned to mark Messi, had been watching him attentively.
He threw himself from outside the box to the goal line and executed a scissors bicycle clearance to get the ball away.
In that instant,
Arsenal fans on the edge of survival chanted Xia Qi's name madly.
Martínez rushed to Xia Qi and hugged him, planting an exuberant face-to-face gesture.
Suddenly a female scream came through the stadium speakers:
"Let him go! Let me do it!"
It turned out a female fan had run to the DJ, grabbed the microphone, and shouted that.
The stadium exploded with laughter.
[You can't blame her — Xia Qi's clearance was as good as a goal.]
[Arsenal fans are so lovable! They know how to have fun. I want to be at the stadium — what to do? Sponsor me! I have the time and the ticket, just need a companion, any sponsors?]
[Bro, is a male companion okay? I'm fast with my hands…]
In the Penguin broadcast booth:
"Arsenal's midfield is still a bit light; Barcelona have too many players who can pass."
"This sequence seems unrelated to Fàbregas, but his insertion actually created the condition for Messi's one-on-one."
"If Arsenal don't strengthen the midfield now, conceding is only a matter of time. Even if they win this match on time, the same problem will present itself in the next leg."
On the pitch, after seeing his certain goal cleared by Xia Qi, Messi stood with hands on hips, shook his head helplessly, but quickly composed himself and applauded Iniesta for the assist.
Soon Barcelona took a throw-in…
(END CHAPTER)
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