Chapter 168
The entire Athens Olympic Stadium was filled with red waves, and the excited roars and singing of the Red Devils fans resounded throughout the sky.
Messi stood on the sports field, breathing slightly, with his hands on his hips as he looked at Ronaldo who was hugged by the Red Devils. He could even hear the fans singing loudly -
"There's one, only one, only one, only one Christiano,"
"There\'s one, only one, only one, only one Ronaldo."
“He plays on the left.”
“He plays on the right.”
"That boy Ronaldo made England look shite!"
“…”
The fans sang one song after another, as if they didn't know how to get tired.
It was like a provocation. Messi saw his teammates' faces drop, as if they were offended by the equalizer and the lyrics.
The guy called Ronaldo was like a hard-working bee, running on the left and right sides of the court, in the front and back courts. He could be seen everywhere. Even though it was the final countdown of the game, he still didn't look tired at all.
"The linesman signals for four minutes of extra time! This extra time is a little less than we expected." The commentator said after taking a look at the sidelines.
"That's true, but it's not impossible to make some changes in four minutes. Everything is still unknown," said the Englishman sitting in the guest seats.
They have Cristiano Ronaldo, and the four-minute reversal miracle is not a short-lived miracle in Ronaldo, they can always see it.
The Spaniard said: "In the injury time, both Barcelona and Manchester United should have a common goal, which is to drag the game into overtime, and then look for opportunities to attack and see if there is a chance to end the game directly."
"But no matter what, in these four minutes, they should leave some physical strength for the more likely overtime later. This is the smart approach and the correct tactic," said the Spaniard.
His words were unanimously agreed by the commentator and Italian guests.
The Englishman curled his lips and said nothing. He thought to himself, maybe, but this is not the Red Devils. They will fight every minute of the game. Even if they have played the full 90 minutes, even if there is overtime later, it will not change their style.
"Leo Messi is walking on the right side of the wing with the ball, looking for an opportunity to break through to Manchester United's goal!" The Italian exclaimed, and at the same time glanced at the time. There were only two minutes of injury time left.
The short and nimble Argentine stepped on the ball, dribbled past Keane's defense, and was about to dribble to the left when Cristiano quickly returned to defend and filled the position.
He was fast and kicked the ball cleanly and efficiently, and he cleared the ball directly from under Messi's feet without any delay, without touching Messi's body at all.
"Ronaldo cleared the ball from under Messi's feet! It was a very neat and clean clearance!" said the commentator, half-jokingly saying, "Maybe Manchester United's No. 7 can also develop into a defender? He's tall enough."
"He is perfect, the coach's ideal player," the Italian said with a nod and a smile.
Cristiano interrupted Messi's attack, and Barcelona fans immediately booed and cursed at him on the field.
He shook his head and smiled nonchalantly, then turned around and saw Messi falling to the ground due to inertia. He bent down and reached out to pull him up.
Messi was stunned for a moment, then put his hand in Cristiano's palm, used the force to stand up, and said softly: "Thank you."
Cristiano casually patted the other person on the shoulder.
The ball on the field was soon exchanged again. Alan intercepted the ball and passed it to Cristiano, who took the ball and immediately sprinted towards Barcelona's goal.
"Ronaldo can still run! He runs so fast! The game has reached the final countdown! This should be the last attack of the game!" The commentator exclaimed in disbelief, "It seems that Ronaldo has no intention of saving his energy for overtime! Or is his energy pool so deep that it is impossible to estimate?!"
Barcelona's defense was obviously almost exhausted, with only Puyol able to barely catch up with Cristiano, but there was only one goal on Barcelona's side, and Puyol was completely unable to defend against Cristiano who was giving his all!
"Puyol can only commit a tactical foul to stop Cristiano Ronaldo's offensive momentum!! The referee gave a free kick!!"
Cristiano held the ball and stood in front of the white dot circled by the referee. He lowered his head and kissed the ball devoutly, then placed it on the positioning spot.
Alan walked to the side of Cristiano. He looked at the determined and serious young No. 7. Cristiano was taking a deep breath to adjust his rhythm. Seeing this, Alan whispered: "Even if this ball doesn't go in, we will continue to score the next one, Ronnie, you know this."
Cristiano looked at Alan and his friend gave him a rare smile.
In such an atmosphere of the last ball of the final, when other teammates couldn't help but hold their breath and put their hands together to pray, this seemed out of place, but it made him relax a little. He nodded slightly and said nothing.
"Alan Smith said something to Cristiano, and the two smiled at each other. It seems that they have a very good relationship in private. This has dispelled the previous rumors that the two were fighting for the ball and had a bad relationship. It also eased the tension of the game that was about to break out!" The commentator interrupted and laughed.
Everyone stood in front of the goal to form a human wall. Neville looked at the young number seven in front of him who was as tense as a cheetah. He was a little dazed. For some reason, he suddenly felt an indescribable sadness and sorrow in his heart, as if the distance between him and Cristiano was farther than thirty yards, as if there was a voice saying that he would lose this partner.
He shook his head vigorously, and the dizziness became more obvious, as if he was thrown out of his body.
He wiped his face subconsciously, and Ferdinand beside him whispered to him: "Focus! Gary!"
Neville bit his tongue hard and looked straight ahead of them.
Cristiano was standing there, his still immature and chubby face facing them, his eyes staring past them at the goal, with the belief that he would win.
"Cristiano's iconic A-shaped stance! He measured the distance step by step and stopped a few steps away from the ball!"
The Englishman slammed his hand on the table and stared at the screen nervously: "This free kick is at least thirty yards away from the goal! But Cristiano's free kick cannon has a maximum range of more than that! Thirty yards! It's within his range!"
The Spaniard said: "But the position of the ball is not very good, the angle is very small, plus the distance, it is very difficult to score this free kick. I don't think he can score..."
Before the guest commentator from Spain finished speaking, the commentator and the English and Italian people beside him excitedly shouted as the screen flashed: "Run-up! Shoot! The ball goes in!!!"
The Spaniard gasped in disbelief, and the words he had not yet finished were stuck in his throat, like a thick fishbone, making him unable to speak for a moment.
The Englishman next to him jumped up from his seat, stepped on the chair, and excitedly waved his fist at the big screen: "Did you see it? This is what I said!! Cristiano Ronaldo!!! You can always trust him!!!"
"A world-class goal!!! A world-class goal!!! Cristiano Ronaldo scored the winning goal in the final seconds! Barcelona reversed the score to 2-1!!! Winning the Champions League trophy!" The commentator couldn't help but shout excitedly, his voice was hoarse, "On the night of the Champions League final, Ronaldo scored twice, contributing the most incredible double for Manchester United this season!"
"Ronaldo ran towards the audience, took off his jersey and threw it to the audience! Showing everyone his impressive figure!" the Italian said excitedly, "Who will be the lucky person who picks up Ronaldo's jersey? I'm afraid that the jersey used in this game will be bid up by everyone!"
"Oh my god - Manchester United teammates, staff... one after another, all rushed to the field! Rushed to their hero boy! Ronaldo was jumped on by a group of men! Is his waist okay!?"
The commentator couldn't help laughing and continued the guest's words: "This is the time for them to enjoy their victory! The entire Athens Olympic Stadium was filled with golden rain. Congratulations to Manchester United! This is also the fourth championship Manchester United has won this season!! It breaks all records!"
"Quadruple champions!!! This is Manchester United with Cristiano Ronaldo!! Like a beast! Unstoppable!"
Cristiano laughed and hugged his teammates who jumped on him - Alan, Rooney, Giggs...
He barely took a few steps back and stood firm for a few seconds, then all the staff on the sidelines rushed up, one after another, rushing over excitedly. Cristiano fell uncontrollably, and it was unknown which unlucky guy cushioned him. Anyway, he landed softly and didn't feel any pain at all.
"Ronnie! Ronnie!"
Cristiano heard voices calling him in his ears. He was surrounded and pressed tightly by his teammates. Then the next second, he was suddenly airborne, lifted up high, and thrown heavily into the sky.
"Viva Ronaldo!"
"Viva Ronaldo!"
The fans on the field, his teammates, almost everyone was shouting, the deafening cheers made people dizzy, but also joyful.
"Ronnie? Ronnie!" Cristiano heard Neville calling him. He subconsciously looked over, but met a pair of complicated eyes, which seemed very sad, but also ecstatic, which made him stunned for a moment.
"Gary?" he called automatically.
The appearance of Neville in that world suddenly overlapped with the appearance of this world. Cristiano vaguely saw this shadow. He saw the commentator Neville opening his arms towards him.
Cristiano suddenly came to his senses. Before he could look carefully, he subconsciously dodged. Fortunately, Alan and Ferdinand were by his side. He hugged his teammates, so that the dodge just now did not seem so weird and inappropriate.
He turned his head to look at Neville. The Manchester United center back in front of him still looked young, completely different from the sharp commentator in his memory.
Cristiano thought to himself, why the hell was he thinking about Neville at such a happy moment?
Neville didn't move any closer. He smiled as he watched Cristiano hold up the huge trophy, excitedly put it on his head, and grinned happily at the camera.
Ferguson was standing next to Cristiano. He naturally took the position closest to the boy, holding his beloved No. 7 tightly, and stood on the awards stand together.
As the top scorer in the Champions League, Cristiano Ronaldo has won countless honors.
Cristiano picked up the medal with a grin, kissed the golden medal, and showed his achievement to the media.
He could hardly wait to share his joy with his family and lover, but the media surrounded him, trapping him in the Olympic Stadium.
"The final winning shot was so fast! The angle was so tricky that no goalkeeper could save it! This must be the most beautiful goal, what do you think, Ronaldo?"
"Manchester United won four titles this season! Have you thought about how to celebrate?"
"Three consecutive championships, four championships, Manchester United's achievements this season are enviable..."
"The duel between the two new demon generals has already been decided. As one of the protagonists, what do you think of the significance of the victory or defeat of this match?"
“…”
The media wanted to poke all the microphones in Cristiano's face, but Ferguson blocked all the microphones before his boy could speak:
"Let my little Portuguese take a breath, friends." Ferguson smiled and said, "We won the game, which is great. I am very proud and don't want to be humble. I just want to say that we played well, we played at our level, and there is nothing to criticize or comment on this victory. We won very beautifully."
"As for the competition between players, you shouldn't ask the players, but look at their game data and performance. These can't deceive people. They are all very good players."
Ferguson's words caused a stir in the media, and someone immediately asked: "Who do you think is better? Leo Messi or Cristiano Ronaldo?"
"I only know that when the score is behind, I can rely on my number seven, and everyone can see it. This season, Cristiano has scored many goals for us, whether it is in the wind or against." Ferguson glanced at the person who handed him the microphone. Considering today's victory, he was in a very good mood and did not throw the microphone away from the person in front of him.
"Some people say that you like hardworking and talented players, such as Messi, so if Leo Messi comes to Manchester United..." The Spanish media is tireless.
Ferguson interrupted him impatiently: "Yes, I like Cristiano Ronaldo, everyone can see it, I know what you say about me, but I don't mind you evaluating this as 'spoiling', although in my opinion this is nonsense, this is my way of educating and guiding him, and it seems that this method has achieved results, and he has given very good feedback."
Hard-working and talented player, come on, he was talking about his little Portuguese at the time.
Ferguson was about to roll his eyes, not understanding how the player ended up being the Argentine he liked from Barcelona. He had no intention of even contacting him - as everyone knew, he was a player from Barcelona's youth team and had long been integrated into the Barcelona system. Who knew what he would be like if he were to go to another club. He had no intention of taking any risks, nor did he intend to be a sucker.
He prefers those who are selected by himself with his own eyes and hands, just like a piece of unpolished jade, which shines with the most dazzling and beautiful brilliance under his care and polishing.
Even if this rough jade will be sold to someone else at a high price sooner or later, he must create a record-breaking and amazing auction for it that everyone will remember.
The night of the Champions League final was destined to be extremely noisy. Barcelona, the team most favored to win the championship, returned home empty-handed, and the whole team was filled with a suffocating silence and embarrassment.
When Messi walked off the field, he glanced towards the Red Devils on the sidelines.
He saw Cristiano being thrown into the air filled with golden ribbons by his teammates, and he saw the Portuguese laughing brilliantly, but what emerged in his mind was the other man standing in front of him, his eyes calm and sharp, like an arrow piercing the clouds.
When he was forming a human wall, what he was thinking in his mind was that the ball would go in and they would be finished.
And this is indeed the case.
He took a deep breath and left the field with his teammates.
This game made him see the Cristiano Ronaldo mentioned by the media. He thought to himself that the Portuguese was indeed incredible, but he would catch up.
The post-match celebrations lasted almost all night, and Cristiano later slipped away. His teammates knew how bad his drinking was and did not force him to stay at the celebration party.
When Neville saw Cristiano leave, he quickly found an excuse to leave temporarily.
He quickly caught up with Cristiano and called out to the boy: "Ronnie!"
Cristiano saw Kaka and Dolores waving at him at the end of the corridor, but he had to stop and turn to look at Neville: "What's wrong Gary? Why don't you go in and play a few rounds with them?"
Neville opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.
"Uh... I don't know either." Neville spoke with difficulty. As he spoke, his eyes became so dry that they were about to cry.
Cristiano was startled, then couldn't help but teased with amusement: "I know we are excited about winning the Champions League, but you don't have to cry? And you have the nerve to call me a crybaby? Tsk, look at yourself, Gary."
Gary Neville sneered, wiped his face and scratched Cristiano's curly hair a few times in retaliation: "I just felt it! Forget it, go away Ronnie, go celebrate with your Kaka."
Cristiano made a face at him, turned around and was about to run back, but the next second, he was stopped again.
"Gary? Please just finish your sentence!" Cristiano puffed up his cheeks, blew his hanging curly hair, and looked helplessly at the central defender in front of him.
Neville suddenly hugged him and whispered, "I just want to say, I'm sorry, Ronnie, nothing else, I'm glad we can be teammates, this is the best day."
After he said that, he turned and left, not even daring to look at Cristiano's reaction. He guessed that the little curly-haired boy must have a confused and silly look on his face, but he didn't dare to look. He didn't go back to the party and went straight back to the hotel to rest.
——He never thought that he would see Cristiano Ronaldo again, the young curly-haired boy who seemed to have no grudges against him and would laugh and play with him.
Neville felt like he was dreaming, and he went back to the past in his dream. He stayed in the body of his younger self, watching the game and seeing Cristiano win the Champions League trophy for their team. He thought he just missed him, so he dreamed about these things, until the game was over, he was suddenly able to move, suddenly took control of this body, and then he realized that this seemed to be more than just a dream.
He felt that his energy in this body was becoming weaker, and perhaps he would have to leave soon, but that didn't stop him from being surprised.
In another world, he once said some excessive words, and he thought Cristiano would not know - after all, there is a world of difference between them. He has retired long ago, and almost no one pays attention to him or knows about his past honors, while Cristiano is still active in his long career, still incredibly creating some statistical legends. Such a difference makes him subtly unbalanced.
He thought Cristiano had stopped paying attention to him a long time ago, like two straight lines that crossed and moved further and further apart.
But he didn't expect the other party to know.
When he ran into Chris at the game the next day and Chris ignored him and hugged another strange host instead, he knew it was over between them.
He thought he still had a chance to apologize and get forgiven, even though he knew they could never go back to the way they were before, but he hoped Chris would know that he regretted it.
He has indeed changed. He is used to saying things that will cause controversy and attract attention, so that traffic will be focused on his remarks, even if those remarks lack truth and rationality. He is also used to treating the players he talks about as commodities, and those "commodities" have long realized that they are "commodities", but he forgets that Chris has not changed.
He wanted to tell Chris that deep down in his heart he still remembered that time and still loved little Ronnie. He just didn't know that the grown-up Ronnie still needed him, his former big brother.
Neville thought he had the chance to say this, but he didn't have the courage to apologize - he was already forty-eight years old, and the older he got, the less courage he had to admit his mistakes.
But one night, he suddenly received a call from Ferdinand, and his former club teammate whispered to him: "Ronnie is gone."
"In the middle of the night? Where is he going? Come on, he's not a child anymore, I don't need to watch him wherever he goes like before, right? Forget it, I'm getting up, see you at the old place..." He got up in the middle of the night and turned on the bedside lamp, muttering to himself while rubbing his hair and getting out of bed to put on his clothes.
In the past, if Ronnie ran away, he and Rio would have to be kept under surveillance by the boss, and it would be best to bring the little Portuguese back.
At this moment, he was half asleep in the middle of the night and heard some very familiar words. Subconsciously and tacitly, he put on his clothes again and planned to go and find the Portuguese as he had done before.
"Gary, I mean, Ronnie's gone. He had a heart problem. The funeral is in a week." Ferdinand interrupted him.
Neville froze in place, as if a basin of ice water was poured over his head. Then he realized that Ronnie had left Manchester long ago.
"What did you say?" he heard his own voice.
A week later, he attended the funeral.
He saw many people, even Alan Smith, who he hadn't contacted for a long time, showed up at the funeral. The man had his usual short platinum hair. He looked at his injured leg, and he stood straight, not seeming to be affected much by the rain.
He nodded slightly to the other person, but the other person just passed him by and left a white rose in front of the silent and solemn tombstone.
He also saw Keane and Giggs, as well as Van Nistelrooy, Pique... and many of their former teammates. They took turns coming forward to present a flower, and when it was his turn, he suddenly felt so heavy that he couldn't lift his feet.
Damn it, he realized all too clearly that he had no chance of saying anything to Ronnie anymore.
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