"The first half was solid, especially with the cross-field switches. You hit the targets I set before kickoff," Alain Perrin noted in the dressing room. He paused, his gaze shifting to the young star. "However, David, the link-up play with the central players still needs work."
Perrin knew David had only been with the squad for a few days and that his national teammates couldn't match the standard of his Wolfsburg peers. It was a gap David would have to bridge himself, as raising the technical ceiling of the entire squad overnight was a pipe dream.
Perrin also realized that slotting Wu Lei into the attacking midfield role was a double-edged sword. While his vertical runs stretched the defense and created pockets of space, the team's overall control of the park suffered. Tactical adjustments were needed to better facilitate David's influence.
"Defensively, I won't repeat myself too much. We've drilled this. Keep the pressure up front. Don't let them have an easy out—don't let them launch those long balls comfortably," Perrin said, rapping his knuckles against the tactical board. New Zealand's "route one" approach was a game of percentages; one lucky bounce or a momentary lapse by a defender could easily lead to a goal.
The second half began under a canopy of expectation.
"Force the pass!" Zheng Zhi barked from the back. David Qin responded instantly, stepping up to shadow James. The Kiwi midfielder hesitated, glancing for an exit, and in that split second of indecision, David barged into him. James nearly coughed up the ball, managing a frantic backpass just as Yu Hai closed him down.
Winston Reid, however, was unfazed. The West Ham man showed why he was a Premier League regular, using a deft turn and clever positioning to shoulder Yu Hai aside. He looked up and unleashed a raking long ball toward Tommy Smith, who was charging down the flank.
The hulking Smith outmuscled Mei Fang to head the ball back into the center. Barbarouses collected it and immediately slipped a diagonal ball to Chris Wood, who had found a pocket of space in front of Zheng Zhi.
But as the Leicester City striker prepared to control it, he felt a sharp impact against his back. It was heavy and perfectly timed. His touch failed him, the ball rolling too far and allowing Wu Xi to nip in and poke it away.
"Excellent play!" He Wei's voice rose over the crowd. "The partnership between Zheng Zhi and Wu Xi is paying dividends. Perrin clearly has a plan here. Zheng provides the steel, while Wu Xi has the engine to sweep the area in front of the backline. 'The Workhorse'—that nickname fits him perfectly."
Wu Xi drove forward. Knowing his limitations in vision and distribution, he didn't dwell on the ball, quickly shifting it to the right wing. Ji Xiang ignited his engines, but he was shadowed closely by Storm Roux. Fortunately, Ji Xiang was equally capable with either foot.
Snap! A crisp, curling ball was sent back across the pitch toward the left.
A bit long... David Qin thought, tracking the flight of the ball. But I can make it.
Because Tommy Smith had committed forward in the previous attack, the only man near David was Winston Reid. The stadium held its breath as David leaped, extending a leg in a high-flying "kung-fu" gesture to cushion the ball dead. It was a world-class piece of control.
Reid, having learned his lesson, stood his ground, jockeying David and waiting for Smith to recover.
"Close him down!"
Tommy Smith was fuming. No defender likes being humiliated repeatedly, and in the English Championship, Smith was notorious for his aggressive, no-nonsense style. David tensed his core, feeling the defender's presence as if he had eyes in the back of his head. The moment Smith lunged for the tackle, David's right foot flashed.
Snap! He dragged the ball and flicked it in a sharp 'L' trajectory. Once again, he slithered through the double-team. The crowd erupted in a mixture of shock and joy.
He wasn't finished.
David retraced the path of his first-half glory, a near-perfect mirror image of the earlier strike.
Boom! The ball was lashed into the top right corner. Glen Moss could only watch, a statue of despair, as the net rippled.
"And there it is! A brace for David Qin!"
"On his international debut, he's found the net twice. Same recipe, same devastating result!"
"A solo masterclass! Two magnificent, high-octane strikes that have set the Nanchang Olympic Sports Center completely ablaze!"
He Wei was breathless. Watching David on television was one thing; seeing him live was a different beast. One moment you were mesmerized by his rhythmic stride, the next he had accelerated like a blade, piercing the heart of the opposition.
On the pitch, David hammered his fist against the national crest, letting out a primal roar toward the stands. The fans responded with a wall of sound—a tsunami of cheers that made David's eardrums throb.
"So clinical..." Wu Lei whispered, watching David bask in the adulation. At that moment, his desire to move abroad reached a fever pitch. He had to get out while he was young, or he would live with the regret forever.
"New Zealand's overall quality is lacking, especially the screening in front of their defense," Zheng Zhi observed, ever the realist. David's arrival had undoubtedly boosted the squad's ceiling, but they weren't world-beaters yet. They needed time—and David needed to keep growing.
Zheng Zhi thought back to the 2002 World Cup, which he had missed for various reasons. It was the regret of a lifetime. This has to be my last shot, he thought, watching David's retreating back. At thirty-four, no matter how disciplined he was, the clock was ticking. He just wanted one more taste of the World Cup, even as a substitute.
"In the 76th minute, Perrin rings the changes," He Wei announced. "Hao Junmin comes on for David Qin, Feng Xiaoting for Ren Hang, and Gao Lin replaces Wu Lei."
"Three like-for-like substitutions to test the depth and prepare for any eventualities. Look at that—the fans are on their feet, giving David Qin a standing ovation for a flawless debut."
David clapped back at the stands, a sincere thank-you to the supporters. He had once been one of them, a face in the crowd or a fan behind a screen. Now, the roles had reversed.
"Nice shift, kid," Gao Lin said, patting David's shoulder as they crossed the touchline. Gao Lin felt a surge of confidence, though his first shot on goal—a wild effort that sailed into the rafters—brought him back to earth. Lippi was right, he thought. I'm a target man, not a sniper.
"Full time! Full time!"
"After the 70th minute, China's physical intensity clearly dropped. In the 83rd, Chris Wood capitalized on a corner with a powerful header. Then, in stoppage time, a long-range effort from Brockie took a wicked deflection off Zhang Linpeng's leg and found the net."
"While those two goals didn't change the outcome, they highlight the lingering issues in this squad. These problems won't vanish just because David is back; we have to face them. But for now, let's celebrate a 3-2 victory over New Zealand!"
"China currently sits 9th in Asia with 369 points. We are still trailing Oman (391) and Iraq (393). With the Gulf Cup coming up, their rankings could climb further. To secure a top seed for the World Cup qualifiers, China must win these friendlies. One down, one to go. Honduras is next."
"Fans, we'll see you in Xi'an!"
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