Chapter 202
Cristiano looked at Kaka, he knew what Kaka was thinking——
Ramos and him had indeed worked side by side for nine years. During those nine years, they had gone through the lows of Real Madrid and also climbed to its most brilliant and glorious peak, covered with glory.
This is an incredible period of time. Even for a top club like Real Madrid, these nine years are enough to be sung and recorded like an epic.
They are the two people placed in the middle of the club, one is the captain with a knife, and the other is the top superstar.
Ramos is his teammate, his captain, and his defender. On the court, the opponents will protect him, teach a lesson to those opponents who are rude and like to play tricks, drag him away from the noisy fans when they are loudly mocking him, cheer and sing together under the victory floats, and childishly shout his name, long live, and Madrid, as if they will be together forever.
But the fact is, they always have to separate, and as Kaka said, when he leaves, some things will become complete.
Kaka doesn't like Ramos - even though he has been away from Real Madrid for a long, long time, so long that perhaps only at Christmas will people remember that he and Chris had recorded Christmas greetings together - but because of Cristiano, even though he has been away from there for so long, he still pays attention to every change there.
He once sincerely thought that Ramos was a good friend of Cristiano, a reliable one, just like those friends Chris had in Manchester, they hugged, cheered and kissed each other on the chest on the court, but then he realized that the other party was a completely different type, just a colleague, and those bad words were thrown out like without thinking, as if he didn't care about the consequences.
He saw Cristiano being pushed to the forefront again, and saw the media swarming in like piranhas smelling fresh blood. He wondered in his heart, is this what Ramos wanted?
If he had the same nine years as Cristiano, he would definitely cherish and protect such a friendship. He would be both envious and resentful.
Because there was a voice in his heart telling him that perhaps the reason why Sergio Ramos acted like this was because they had those nine years, and that gave the other party the illusion that they could be fearless, as if this was just an ordinary quarrel, and they would be talking and laughing and making peace in the blink of an eye.
But obviously, Ramos forgot that they were no longer in the same team, and they were no longer teammates who used to stick together every day. They quarreled one day and fought again the next day.
Cristiano smiled and winked at Kaka: "You see, my love can be very flexible."
Kaka's heart beat a little faster when he heard that. He looked at Cristiano and couldn't help but rubbed Cristiano's curly hair. Only the real touch of Cristiano made his heart settle a little.
He thought to himself, then why could he be the different one? He held Cristiano's face in his hands, and kissed him devoutly and gratefully, kissing his forehead and eyelids, cheekbones and nose tip, and finally his plump lips and chin, then moving down little by little, gently wiping his rolling Adam's apple.
"So what are your criteria, Cristiano?" he asked gently.
"My heart." The Portuguese answered quickly, he tilted his head back slightly, his breathing pace quickened a little, making light hums and gasps. Kaka's question did not bother him at all, he did not hesitate at all, his answer was always the same from beginning to end.
Kaka laughed softly, lowered his head, pushed up Cristiano's jersey, and kissed the area where his heart was: "... This is good."
Cristiano opened his eyes slightly and looked at his lover, with a hint of doubt in his eyes: "Hmm?"
Kaka did not answer. He lowered his head, and soon the Portuguese no longer had the energy to think about the doubts he had just had.
///
Ramos and Benzema were assigned to the same hotel room. After returning to the room, Ramos quietly asked Benzema what questions the reporters had asked during the post-match interview.
"That's it," Benzema said, adjusting his jersey.
Ramos pricked up his ears, waiting for Benzema to continue, but after waiting for a few seconds and seeing no further movement from the other end, he realized that his teammate had no intention of leaking any more information to him.
Ramos: “…such as?”
"What you want to ask is whether they mentioned the penalty you conceded?" Benzema looked over.
Ramos: “…”
"No, they didn't mention it, and you were not here," Benzema said.
"Did they mention Chris?" Ramos asked again.
Benzema narrowed his eyes: "Of course. They asked about Cristiano's injury, his injury and fouls."
"That player should be suspended!" Ramos said immediately after hearing this.
"Mourinho answered like this." Benzema looked at Ramos, and he curled the corners of his mouth slightly with a hint of sneer and ridicule, "But we all saw that he only got a yellow card. The referee didn't consider that foul as a malicious foul at all."
"Then there is no explanation?" Ramos widened his eyes, "Cristiano's ankle..."
"That's not the first time he's been injured like this," Benzema interrupted, scratching the back of his head. "When he was at Manchester United, as far as I know, he was always targeted, but then he got better."
Ramos paused when he heard this. He remembered that at the last barbecue party, Ferdinand of Manchester United held his shoulder and told him a lot about what a defender should do. Now he has some idea of what those things are.
Defenders should do the dirty work.
They have to be deterrent and make the opponents dare not to make any dirty moves easily, not only for Cristiano, but also for each of their forwards.
This is what he has to do.
…
Cristiano had a good night's rest and although his ankle was still stinging, he knew he would be fine.
After returning to Madrid, he got a seven-day vacation and was not even allowed to enter the training base. He had to stay at home quietly, but this was a rare opportunity to accompany the two little ones during the season.
Their German housekeeper Emma had already learned about Cristiano's injury. She also prepared a smart wheelchair and two comfortable and labor-saving crutches to greet Cristiano.
Junior and Luca were very nervous when they saw a wheelchair and two crutches in the house. The two little guys followed Emma closely and waited for their fathers to come back.
When Junior saw Cristiano getting off the car, he ran over quickly. Before he could hug Cristiano, Kaka carefully blocked him and whispered, "Junior, don't hit your father."
Cristiano's eyes lit up slightly, and he bent down to catch the little guy who was about to cry with his lips curled up: "Oh my God, Junior, you can run so steadily and so fast! It's great! You are like a gust of wind, my baby!"
Junior had his back to Kaka, and his small, round body struggled to squeeze in between Cristiano and Kaka. He carefully pressed against Cristiano's calf: "Papa, papa..."
He shouted in a low voice, his eyes fixed on the ankles wrapped in gauze outside the slippers. It was wrapped several times, which looked scary. Luka also ran over closely behind Junior, took a look, then looked up at Chris and Kaka, and curled his lips: "Papa——"
Cristiano smiled and hugged the two children. When he saw the wheelchair pushed out by Emma, he couldn't help but joked: "Emma, I haven't lost my ability to move yet, so I can't use this wheelchair for the time being."
"No, I feel fine, thank you Emma." Kaka interrupted, he pushed the wheelchair in front of Cristiano and motioned Cristiano to sit on it.
"...I only hurt one foot," Cristiano protested.
But he was still taken to the wheelchair without any explanation. The worried look in the two little guys' eyes made Cristiano unable to refuse. Now he knew how useful this kind of look was.
Junior and Luca became Cristiano's little clones. As long as Cristiano glanced at a certain place for a little longer, the boys would rush to get water or snacks.
Cristiano noticed the reactions of the little ones and experimented with them tirelessly. Finally, he happily held each one in his arms and kissed them several times.
Junior hugged Cristiano's neck and kissed his papa hard a few times. If it weren't for Luca, Chris' kisses would only belong to him.
But since Luca would usually finish the carrots he hated, he endured it for the time being.
Junior walked to Cristiano's side staggeringly with a plate of fruit, then put the plate on the sofa, stuck out his butt and climbed up the sofa which was a little high for him now. He heard Cristiano was on the phone, so he behaved well and didn't make trouble for his father.
"Well, Leo... it hurts a little, but it's just a few stitches, no bones are broken, I'll be well again soon! Don't worry..."
Oh, it's Uncle Leo in Manchester. Junior grabbed a slice of orange and put it in his mouth, blinking and looking at his young father.
"Hey Gary, I heard you scolding me on the phone!" Cristiano suddenly muttered, raising his voice slightly, "It's not like I want to get hurt."
Junior blinked. Gary? How many people are on that end of the phone?
"You insisted on playing even though you were injured, right?" Neville grabbed the phone and rolled his eyes at the other end of the line. "Damn it, I don't think you want to play in the Champions League anymore."
"Screw you, I'm in time for the Champions League," Cristiano sneered.
"That madman Mourinho actually agreed to let you continue playing. I really doubt whether his eyes fell on the hotel." Giggs said softly, "And Kaka, he didn't stop you?"
"Deduct fifty points." Keane said coldly.
"No one can stop me from doing what I want to do," Cristiano said. "Also, what's the 50-point deduction?"
Ferdinand rolled his eyes at Keane, covered the microphone with a questioning look on his face and looked at Keane: "Seriously? They are all in Spain, and this is still the case?!"
Keane: “…”
The Iron-Blooded Captain gritted his teeth.
"Cristiano, you'd better stay alive and well until we kick you back." Alan grabbed the phone and snorted.
Cristiano had a smile in his eyes. He subconsciously pursed his lips and shouted, "Alan! I won't be kicked back. You guys win the semi-final first!"
"Where's Edwin? Why didn't I hear him?" Cristiano asked next.
"He's on the phone with your Luther." Rooney smirked, "He's trying to get some information from his national team teammates."
"...What kind of first-hand information could Luther have?" Cristiano twitched his lips speechlessly. It's not like Van Nistelrooy is always with him.
"But Ruud will tell us if you have sneaked out for training." Rooney continued, "Although we can't do anything, the boss might blow the blower on you. This is good, because he only has so much ammunition. After blowing it on you, he will be more gentle to us."
Cristiano: “…”
He did think about sneaking into the training base to train, but his car was stopped before it even reached the gate, and the security guards at the gate knew not to let him in.
In his office, Ferguson cursed Mourinho, Real Madrid's defenders, opposing players, the referee and the Football Association. Damn Florentino, after taking his little Portuguese away, he couldn't even get the referee to make a fair decision. His little Portuguese was simply picking wild vegetables in Spain.
Damn Mourinho, he just took advantage of a useful winger. Doesn't Real Madrid have a third or fourth backup player?
Damn Ramos, he conceded a penalty in a crucial match and even dared not to attend the post-match interview and hide like a turtle. He wouldn't even accept the training given to him!
Fuck it! Fuck it!
And that damn little Ronnie! Damn it! She simply turned a deaf ear to his words!
Ferguson was thinking about his little Portuguese. He regretted sending Cristiano to Madrid to explore a new world. It would be best for his Portuguese to stay under his hands. The Spaniard didn't know how to take care of him at all.
As he was thinking, his cell phone rang. Ferguson opened the phone unhappily and said, "Talk."
"..." Cristiano swallowed, oh, the boss seemed to be in a bad mood, he cleared his throat, "Hey Boss, it's me, Ronnie."
The Portuguese man's voice softened, with a sense of ease and casualness that he himself was not aware of. Of course, there was also a little tension. He said awkwardly: "I think I have to give you a call."
Ferguson was stunned for a second before reacting: "Ronnie?! God, you're in Madrid? You sound fine. What did the team doctor say about your injury?"
Cristiano breathed a sigh of relief. Ferguson's voice on the other end of the phone was familiar to him.
He briefly reported, then hummed and said softly: "People always say that they want fair competition and protect technical players. Maybe some people have been protected, but I have never been treated like this. It's really sad."
He lowered his eyes, making it impossible to tell how much of his words were sincere.
Junior looked up at his father. Ever since he could remember, he had seen his father being tackled and pushed down over and over again on the court. After a game, his father's jersey was always the dirtiest.
His father pursued fairness in a competition that was not completely fair, just like pursuing a light source on a dark road, and he became the light source itself. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why his father made so many people crazy.
On the other end of the phone, Ferguson immediately comforted the little Portuguese in a gentle voice, and even threw away the idea of giving Ronnie a good scolding to Greenland.
It was not until the two hung up the phone that Ferguson remembered that he had not had time to teach Cristiano a lesson, but it was obviously a bit childish to call back and scold him.
Cristiano breathed a long sigh of relief. He saw Junior staring at him and touched his nose with a rare guilty look on his face.
He did flirt a little with Ferguson, which was unusual, but it worked.
The Scottish coach held his breath and snorted heavily in anger.
Damn little Ronnie, he dared to say that this must be a clever trick of the Portuguese.
A few days later, Ferguson was invited to participate in a sports program.
Everyone likes to ask Ferguson about Cristiano, or in other words, everyone likes to mention Cristiano. Cristiano is the eternal topic center in the football world.
Ferguson looked at the host, narrowing his eyes slightly, but was willing to speak.
"On the court, Cristiano was constantly kicked down and then stood up again. This spirit and courage are unique to great players. Yes, I mean, he is a great player now and in the future." Ferguson did not hide his liking and special regard for the Portuguese at all. It was like this before, it is like this now and it will still be like this in the future.
"He knows he has to accept the reality of getting tackled. He got a lot of tackles last week, most of them fair but some not so good," Ferguson said, not quite cryptically.
The audience in the audience was in an uproar. This was too obvious!
Ferguson ignored the reaction of the audience below, spread his hands and continued: "He is not always protected enough. He is in Spain, at Real Madrid, the club of his childhood dreams, but he showed great courage and I respect him for that. He has several cuts on his ankle, but he will be fine."
If Ronnie was still in Manchester, first of all, Ferdinand and Keane would scare the opposing players. Even forwards like Alan and Rooney would not be timid when warning those players. Then Fletcher would control the entire midfield and backcourt, Van der Sar would guard the goal, and Cristiano would directly fire from any position he liked, or send the ball into the opponent's penalty area, asking Alan and others to directly capture the city, and they would win the game beautifully.
Ferguson thought to himself, then let out a long breath.
He really wanted to buy Cristiano back. It was only the first year, but he already missed him terribly.
Ferguson's words almost put the foul players and unfair penalties in that game at the center of public opinion, but no one dared to criticize it, after all, it was Ferguson.
Ferguson doesn't care what the UEFA people think or do, and those people can't touch him. Unless he doesn't want to stay in Manchester United, no one can change his position at Old Trafford.
"Well, you see, the Scottish coach said that Cristiano doesn't get enough protection in Spain. What is that referring to?" Marcelo muttered during a break in training.
Ramos came closer to take a look, then snorted heavily. Before he could say anything harsh, he heard the Frenchman beside him say in a low voice: "If he means Ferdinand and Keane... then indeed, the two of them are like..."
"Beasts." Ramos interrupted Benzema unhappily, "Everyone knows it! Karim, no matter how scary they are, they won't eat you! But if you say another word about them, I guarantee that in the next practice, I will tackle you well so that you will remember who is scarier."
Benzema: “…”
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