Chapter 121

The entire Olympic Stadium was celebrating tonight, and the cameras on the field swept across the stands, focusing on faces that might be ecstatic or in tears.

Alma and Dolores, who were sitting in the box stands, hugged each other tightly and cried excitedly with their hands covering their mouths.

Even if you have never sincerely liked football, but tonight, after witnessing this tenacious and unrelenting game, even people who know nothing about football will be infected by such atmosphere!

Ferguson was so excited that his face turned red. He kept nodding and clapping, saying loudly: "Well done, my child!"

Cristiano was finally able to escape from his teammates' stacking game. His jersey was even stretched out of shape, and his shorts were pulled in the chaos and barely hung on his legs, revealing his extremely low waistline and mermaid line hidden in the white trouser line.

His black curly hair was completely wet, with a small tuft of curls clinging to his forehead, and the slightly long hair ends sticking out everywhere. His teammates quickly hugged him again and ruffled his hair.

Cristiano didn't even bother to pay attention to how he looked now. He just looked up at the family stands with his eyes shining brightly.

He raised his index finger and pointed it at that end, kissing it and breathing heavily.

Kaka held the handrail tightly, the blue veins on the back of his hand were tense and his white fingertips revealed how uneasy he was at this moment.

His boy did it, lifting the gold cup for Portugal.

The big screen at the scene turned close-up to Cristiano's box, and Ferguson's face appeared on the big screen. The Scottish coach, who was extremely proud of his little Portuguese, raised his hand nonchalantly to greet the camera with a very satisfied smile on his face.

"Sir Ferguson appeared in the box stands with Ronaldo's family! At the same time, there was also Brazilian Kaka. The shining young twin stars in the football world appeared at each other's most important competitions as always!"

The commentators and commentators in the broadcast room continued to broadcast the final night.

After they wait for the players to return to the locker room for a short rest and some maintenance on the lawn, the Olympic Stadium will award the glory of this World Cup on the spot.

"Are you ready?" Figo put his arm around Cristiano's shoulders.

He looked down at the other person. The boy had already taken a shower and dressed himself neatly. He even put on hairspray and lip balm in front of the mirror in the locker room before leaving, and sprayed himself with nice perfume - his perfume and hairspray were also requisitioned by other teammates in the team. There was no other bottle of men's perfume in the entire Portuguese locker room.

Thanks to Cristiano's exquisite thoughts, this golden team that won the World Cup for the first time in Portuguese history was full of energy, handsome and fragrant.

Figo and Cristiano stood side by side at the entrance of the player tunnel. The shadow cast by the tunnel building formed a clear boundary with the brilliant light show outside the stadium. They stood in the shadow, and the brilliant championship stage was just one step away.

Cristiano took a deep breath. He stood beside Figo. His shoulders, which were gradually growing from a boy to a young man, were next to Figo's broad back. He turned his head to look at Figo: "What if I say I'm not ready?"

He was really not prepared. This scene had appeared in his dreams, but it always stopped at the moment he walked out of the player tunnel and he woke up from his dream.

Cristiano still feels in a trance after extreme ecstasy, as if he is in a dream.

Figo laughed out loud, and when he noticed that there was a genuine hint of confusion in Cristiano's eyes, he laughed even louder.

Their Portuguese golden boy, the captain who will carry Portugal on its long journey in the future, the goalkeeper who always looks towards the crown of victory unswervingly no matter how desperate the situation is on the field. But when it is really within his grasp, he suddenly becomes stage fright?

It was not until this moment that Figo realized very clearly that the boy in front of him was only twenty-one years old.

He smiled and held Cristiano's arm, looking straight ahead: "Then it's time to move on, Cristiano, you'll be ready!"

After he finished speaking, he looked at his teammates behind him, raised his arms high, and called out to them: "Let's go, friends!"

Cristiano was grabbed by Figo's arm and strode out of the intersection of shadow and light show.

For a moment, his eyes were filled with colorful colors. The singing and cheers resounding through the Olympic Stadium were deafening, and the gorgeous light show made him squint his eyes slightly as he was not used to it.

But soon, Cristiano raised the corners of his mouth and felt very clearly that he was on this championship lawn.

"Portugal! Portugal! Portugal!..."

The gradually uniform shouts from the field lingered around them. This was an exciting night and no one was destined to fall asleep.

FIFA officials first presented individual honors:

Golden Glove Award, Best Newcomer Award, Best Goal Award, Silver Boot Award...

"The winner of the 2006 World Cup Golden Boot in Germany! From the Portuguese national team, Cristiano Ronaldo!"

The volume of the microphone resounded throughout the stadium, and Cristiano jumped lightly onto the podium, with all eyes focused on him.

The talented shooter, who was only 21 years old, scored a wonderful result of nine goals in a single session, almost taking the lead by a wide margin.

Unbelievable!

After the game, the critics were very keen to study and ponder him——

Almost perfect shooting skills, a strong sense of smell in front of the goal, a talent that seems to be born with him, and the incredible control of strength and angles.

Cristiano Ronaldo's finishing ability in front of the goal is astonishing. The entire World Cup season seems to be dominated by his goals, like a devil on the court.

His effective passing, ball control and dribbling data, although overshadowed by his superb shooting ability, are still far ahead of other midfielder data and can be considered excellent.

“God, he’s even a midfielder!”

"His goal numbers are scary even for a striker, let alone a midfielder! He's only 21!?"

"The English don't want him? Then come to Germany! Or Italy? Spain? Come on! All the big clubs will be vying for him!"

"Who would have thought that half a month ago he was described by the media as 'England's sunny umbrella' - useless and can be thrown anywhere, but now! In less than a month, Cristiano Ronaldo has become the object of competition among the world's top clubs!"

"At the beginning, Manchester United fans and England fans shouted for him to get out of Manchester United and England. Almost everyone believed that Ronaldo could not come back. But now, these people have to think about one question -

That is, is Ronaldo still willing to stay at Manchester United? Now it’s not Manchester United who chooses Ronaldo, but Ronaldo who chooses them! ”

“…”

The comments on the Internet almost exploded, but these did not affect Cristiano who was enjoying the night.

He stood in the center of the podium, smiled brightly, raised the golden boot in his hand and kissed it.

The commentators and critics in the broadcast room watched this scene and couldn't help but sigh: "What kind of terrifying finishing ability is this, nine goals in a single tournament? His name will always be in the World Cup Hall of Fame."

"Mind you, he's not even 21 years old, he must be the youngest goalscorer in history."

"Portugal have waited for their genius."

"It's just that football is not a one-man game. The strength of this Portugal is balanced enough to provide this genius with a stage to fully display his talents. But at the same time, this Portugal lineup will only be short-lived. The future Portugal needs more than just a genius who can finish in front of the goal. Portugal needs excellent midfield masters, loyal defenders and goalkeepers. Judging from the current youth team, it seems that there is still a lot of room for growth."

"No matter what, enjoy tonight, heroes of Portugal! Enjoy tonight's victory!"

FIFA officials on the field hung gold medals on the Portuguese main players one by one, and behind them was the golden World Cup trophy.

Cristiano stood on the side of the World Cup trophy and couldn't help but reach out to touch the trophy. He had an uncontrollable smile on his face and even looked a little silly.

Figo saw Cristiano's little move from the side, touched him quietly, and touched him again after a while, just like a child who got candy for the first time.

He couldn't help laughing and pulled a handful of Cristiano's hair: "Where's your image, Chris? Haha!"

"I've waited too long!" Cristiano laughed. After being exposed by Figo, he touched the gold cup more openly. He blinked to get rid of the moisture in his eyes. Oh my God, he really waited too long.

Figo pinched Chris's cheeks, making the young man's already flushed skin even redder: "Not as old as me! How old are you!"

He sneered at Chris in amusement.

Cristiano looked at Figo when he heard that, and Figo turned around and started laughing and joking with other teammates.

Cristiano laughed, and he murmured very quietly, as if talking to himself: "You won't guess, Luis, it's been long enough."

Figo turned his head away. He did not hear the other party's muttering. He grabbed Cristiano's arm and asked Chris to lift the trophy high above his head:

"Portugal! Portugal! Portugal!"

Deco and his teammates jumped up excitedly, pressing on Cristiano and Figo, shouting and singing, and their off-tune singing could be heard everywhere.

Colorful golden ribbons floated up and down the field like fine rain curtains, sprinkling on everyone, as if entwining a golden dream.

Ferguson watched from the box stands as his boy stood in the golden ribbon and held up the beautiful World Cup trophy.

The boy was wearing the red national team's home jersey. The red was so warm and brilliant that he seemed to see Cristiano wearing Manchester United's home jersey. He thought to himself that the gold cup and Cristiano were the most suitable colors, and red, Cristiano, his number seven boy, suited red.

Ferguson met Cristiano in the locker room before presenting the award. Cristiano ran up to him and gave him a big hug, his eyes red with excitement.

He was sincerely happy and proud of Cristiano. He hugged the boy and congratulated him, looking at the young man who had grown up with his eyes gently.

Before Ferguson walked into the Portugal dressing room, he was thinking that he should do everything he could to keep Cristiano at Manchester United, even if it meant holding a gun to the boy's temple. But now, as he looked at the boy completely immersed in excitement and joy, he changed his mind. Ronnie should go to any stage he wanted.

"Boss! Thank you for coming to watch my game! I'm so happy!" Cristiano hugged Ferguson, "The World Cup! It means a lot!"

Ferguson met Cristiano's eyes, those eyes that reflected beautiful brown-green in the light, and he nodded: "Yes, my child, I understand how much it means to you."

Ferguson did not say anything to keep Cristiano until he left the locker room. He thought that the choice should be left to Cristiano himself. Now Cristiano has the supreme right of choice, and any wealthy club is willing to pay a sky-high price to buy him.

He will set a record.

Ferguson did not take part in the final celebrations, leaving the stadium before his team were interviewed.

It wasn't until he returned to the hotel and turned on the TV to play a random program - the World Cup was everywhere - that he saw Cristiano's face appear in the camera, with reporters pointing microphones at him.

Ferguson let out a soft "ha". This time, these reporters and media probably couldn't ask any weird questions. Cristiano handed in a perfect answer sheet - he even answered the additional questions correctly.

"Ronaldo, will you stay at Manchester United?"

"Your former Manchester United teammate Ruud Van Nistelrooy is now in Real Madrid. I heard that he invited you to join Real Madrid after the England match?"

"And Gerard Pique! Ronaldo, did you see what he posted on social media? Will Barcelona be considered?"

“…”

Ferguson's face suddenly darkened. Van Nistelrooy? Pique? That's great, that's great, she actually cheated on him right under his nose? He would give each of them a bullet.

But then he heard Cristiano answer: "My answer has never changed, I still say the same thing -"

"As long as Sir Alex Ferguson needs me, I will stay at Manchester United. We still have the Champions League to win, and that is my goal."

Ferguson's eyes widened slightly. He looked at the boy in the picture in disbelief. The young man was smiling and looked a little tipsy, as if he had drunk some wine while celebrating. He smiled sweetly and softly: "I like Manchester United. As long as I'm there, I will give everything for Manchester United."

Ferguson couldn't help laughing, and his laughter grew louder and louder, scaring his eldest son out from another room in the suite.

"What are you laughing at? Oh... Ronaldo? Well, that's really not surprising at all." Big Martin muttered and went back to his room in his slippers.

Ferguson went to rest contentedly. He had a good dream, a long dream.

In the dream, Cristiano won three consecutive championships for them and lifted the Champions League for them. The boy in the dream stayed at Manchester United for six full years until 2009, when he went to Real Madrid for a record-breaking transfer fee, where he achieved a brilliant record of four Champions League titles in five years. Then he went to the Apennines again and became the only person to win the Premier League, La Liga and Serie A titles at the same time. Finally, the boy returned to Manchester, back to where his dream began.

In his dream, Ferguson saw Cristiano's brilliance, as well as his loneliness and repeated frustrations in the national team. The dream was so real that when he woke up, he subconsciously imagined Cristiano looking at him in the locker room that night.

"Boss! I'm so happy! This is the World Cup! It means so much!"

The sixteen years of ups and downs that Ferguson saw in his dream almost made him overlap the boy from last night with the sharper and more mature older man in his dream.

He got up from the bed, stood in front of the window and looked at the street scene outside.

The early morning streets of Berlin still bore traces of the previous night's revelry.

Ferguson shook his head and smiled. He must be too worried that Cristiano would go to Real Madrid, and he must be too eager for Cristiano to stay at Manchester United, so he had such a good dream.

The wanderer returns home, and his little prince returns with glory from his long voyage.

But was it really a good dream? Ferguson still felt a sense of frustration and depression in his chest. He seemed to see the pair of disappointed, but more indifferent and dull eyes. He always felt that in his dream, his boy was not so happy.

Where is he? Ferguson thought to himself.

He curled the corners of his mouth and sneered at himself for thinking so much about a dream.

But he quickly came up with an answer in his mind - he only knew that if it were in reality, if his child came back from a long journey, he would definitely choose to welcome him in this home.