"Which team is lucky enough to have Pedri, Leo Lin, and Rodri all at once?"
"With those three playing in the same team, no other midfield can compare!"
"They're definitely strong, but Pedri's face really doesn't match his age. He always looks like a 30-year-old Spanish man to me."
Pedri stumbled toward Leo Lin. Assisting his idol and celebrating with him was a scene he had dreamed about countless times.
But Morata reached Leo Lin first and wrapped his arms around him, while Rodri pushed Pedri aside and hugged Leo Lin from the other side.
Although Leo Lin kept waving at Pedri, all he saw was a young Spanish midfielder standing there with a broken heart.
I only wanted to celebrate with Leo Lin. Why won't they give me the chance?
Many fans back in Spain were watching the group match live. Among them was a youngster who had once received Leo Lin's encouragement. He had grown considerably since then and was now performing well in Barcelona's youth academy, with a chance of reaching the first team in a few years.
"Yamal, watch carefully and see how Lin leads Spain to the European Championship title."
"Then, in a few years, you'll have to help Lin attack from the wing, just like Oyarzabal and Olmo!"
Yamal nodded seriously, making the baby fat on both sides of his face jiggle.
"If Morata's goal didn't finish Sweden off, Leo Lin's goal will cost them these three points. I think Spain could secure qualification from Group E very early!"
Sweden finally brought on another center forward, while Hierro sent on Gayà to replace Alba.
Gayà's speed could shut down Sweden's crossing threat from the flanks. Hierro then brought on Ferran Torres for Olmo, using Ferran Torres's pace to increase the pressure on Sweden's back line once again.
After being tested in so many world-class tournaments, Hierro had reached the peak of his coaching ability. His substitutions and tactical management were both excellent.
The match had completely turned into Spain attacking Sweden at will. Leo Lin felt none of the pressure he had experienced at the World Cup during this European Championship group match. After all, his abilities were on a completely different level now.
In the 80th minute, Hierro made another substitution.
The veteran Busquets came on for Leo Lin. Hierro still wanted to give Busquets some time on the pitch as a show of respect, and the Spain supporters began chanting his name.
Leo Lin started walking off. After embracing Busquets, he headed toward the bench.
Suddenly, the Swedish supporters seated behind the Spain bench began calling Leo Lin's name, and several shirts were thrown toward him.
The shirts flew over the Spain bench, and the substitutes watched with interest. They knew how famous Leo Lin had become and that he had supporters all over the world. The fact that Swedish fans liked him did not surprise them at all.
Leo Lin looked down and realized that every shirt thrown toward him was one of his own.
Some were Liverpool shirts, while others belonged to the Spain national team. These Swedish fans had bought them specifically to get his autograph.
"Sorry, the match isn't over yet, so I can't sign them right now."
"I need to show respect to the Swedish players, and I respect all of you too. Once the match is over, I'll sign your shirts!"
"Did you buy this one from an official shop? Not bad. It looks great. My Liverpool shirts always look this good!"
Leo Lin picked up the shirts and handed them back to the Swedish supporters.
The Swedish fans continued staring at Leo Lin. Even though their team was two goals behind, simply seeing him seemed to make them forget the pain of losing to Spain.
"This level of popularity isn't something an ordinary player can have. The moment the Swedish fans see Leo Lin, it's as if they lose all awareness and can only turn their heads to follow his every movement!"
"If I'd known this would happen, I would've gone to commentate from the stadium. I have plenty of Lin shirts at home!"
Gullit felt slightly envious of the Swedish supporters.
Leo Lin wanted to focus on the match, but the Swedish fans kept quietly calling his name.
He especially had to greet some of the younger fans, because he had always liked children who supported him.
At last, amid wave after wave of voices calling his name, the match came to an end.
The Spain players on the bench rubbed their ears. Olmo felt as though he had started hearing things, because Leo Lin's name seemed to be the only sound left in his head.
"I must have heard Lin's name at least five hundred times."
"Aren't these all Swedish fans? Why are they so obsessed with our captain?"
Olmo immediately ran back to the dressing room. He could not bear being surrounded by those voices any longer.
Leo Lin began walking toward the Swedish supporters, and more and more shirts were held out toward him.
Hierro turned to look at Leo Lin, then signaled to Zubizarreta with his eyes to go over and protect him.
At this European Championship, Leo Lin was the one Spain player who absolutely could not afford to get injured.
"One at a time. Whether it's a Liverpool shirt or a Spain shirt, I'll sign it."
Zubizarreta suddenly spotted a red shirt that looked different from the Liverpool ones.
"Move that Manchester United shirt farther away. What were you thinking?"
"Don't try to sneak it through. We don't have much time, so Lin can only sign a limited number of shirts. Everyone, stay calm!"
"Aren't you Sweden fans? The Swedish players are here too. Go ask your own national team players for autographs!"
Zubizarreta tried to take some of the attention away from Leo Lin, but none of the Swedish supporters paid him any notice. They continued holding up their shirts, hoping Leo Lin would sign them.
Faced with those Swedish fans desperately clamoring for Leo Lin's autograph, Zubizarreta could only do everything in his power to serve as his security guard.