Chapter 237
Portugal entered the stadium wearing white away jerseys. The red and green stripes on the jerseys were jokingly described by fans as looking like a cut watermelon.
In this game, Spain's main lineup was in full force and Portugal was in a tough battle.
Spanish striker Torres threatened Portugal's goal with a very intimidating volley at the beginning of the game, giving defenders Pepe, Carvalho and others a severe warning.
Midfielders Xavi and Iniesta were like conductors. They monopolized the ball throughout the field, forcing Portugal to try their best to fight for the ball. After briefly getting the ball back a few times, they were interrupted again.
The ball returned to the Portuguese goal!
In just less than six minutes, Torres volleyed the ball into the goal in the first 60 seconds, and then Villa was forced to the left side of the penalty area!
"Carvalho pressed Villa forward, and Villa was almost near the baseline! He feinted a shot and then chose to shoot directly after dodging the angle! Although the angle was small! But the quality of this shot was extremely high!! It was shot very resolutely!" the commentator exclaimed.
The ball flew along the ground like lightning and hit the lower right corner of the goal, but was blocked by goalkeeper Eduardo. It was another false alarm!
"Eduardo!! The Portuguese goalkeeper has once again saved Portugal with a decisive victory!!"
Carvalho immediately kicked the ball away and passed it to Pepe, who then dribbled forward quickly, while Cristiano appeared on the left.
He followed the ball closely, and the ball was passed to Coentrao, who dribbled the ball calmly, dodged the defense of a central defender, and immediately seized the opportunity to speed up. Seeing this, Cristiano immediately turned his head and accelerated forward.
However, there was a Spaniard in front of him. As soon as he started to speed up, the man blocked him head-on. The strong force hit Cristiano so hard that he fell backwards due to the reaction force just as he accelerated, which caused boos and laughter in the field.
Cristiano scratched his head and stood up quickly, rubbed his sore waist twice, and quickly participated in this round of attack. He used his running position to attract the attention of most Spanish players and helped Portugal complete this wave of attack.
"Coentrao flicked the ball back! Great pass! Thiago! There's an open space in front of him! Shoot directly from a long distance towards the Spanish goal!!!"
This long shot also went straight to the goal, and Casillas blocked it with his hand! The ball was not completely blocked, but instead went behind him!
"Quaresma made up for the position! He jumped high and headed the ball! But Casillas got there first and cleared the ball... What a pity!" The commentator continued speaking at a very fast speed without taking a breath, and only took a short breath when the ball was completely cleared.
Casillas was so nervous that he was breathing heavily. This was too dangerous.
The Spanish defense line tightened again at Casillas' call.
Thirty minutes into the game, Portugal won a free kick on the left side, more than thirty yards away from the goal.
Casillas saw the familiar figure standing on the field thirty yards away. He took a deep breath and prayed to Jesus and the Virgin Mary in his heart.
Damn it, Gerard, Sergio, Puyol...what is coming will come.
Cristiano's standing posture is definitely every goalkeeper's nightmare!
"In the three group stage matches, Cristiano Ronaldo was named the best player in every game--" said the commentator.
Cristiano gestured to his teammates, and Carvalho gave him a thumbs-up. After that, Cristiano took a few deep breaths, then stepped back one step at a time as if measuring, and then took a run-up -
"Cristiano Ronaldo shoots straight at the goal!!"
"The ball was floating like a falling leaf with an unknown trajectory! It was hit towards the goal at a very fast speed! But it was blocked by Casillas! And then it was cleared by Ramos!"
Another guest in the broadcast room nodded and said: "Casillas didn't even dare to catch the ball with his hands. He was really unsure! Look at him, he hesitated for a moment, then used his body to block the ball, and then the ball bounced up and was cleared by Ramos with his head."
"Ronaldo's long-range free kicks are really amazing."
Casillas breathed a sigh of relief. To be honest, he himself was not sure that he could intercept Cristiano's free kick, but this time, in this crucial game, he intercepted it.
In the second half of the game, the two teams changed sides.
The Spanish side quickly exercised the right to make a substitution. Not long after Ramos came on as a substitute, he made a long pass and the ball flew straight into the penalty area with incredible accuracy!
Then Lue Lunte, who had just entered the court, made a diving move forward!
"Header!! Eduardo bravely saved it again!"
"Goalkeeper Eduardo!!"
Throughout the entire second half, the ball was almost like being sucked by a magnet to the Portuguese half of the field. Spain's passing and control were so tight that Portugal had difficulty in getting the ball out. Cristiano had almost no chance to touch the ball in 60 minutes.
"Xavi passed the ball to Alonso in the midfield, Alonso passed the ball directly to Iniesta, and Xavi made a forward run! Iniesta passed the ball to Xavi again!"
"There's a chaotic fight in front of the restricted area!"
"Xavi kicked the ball out! Villa!! Villa pressed forward and shot! Eduardo saved it! And more!"
"Villa shoots again!! The ball goes in!!! Spanish striker Villa!! Standing up and turning the tide at the critical moment!"
"Spain leads Portugal one to zero!"
"But wasn't this ball offside? When Xavi passed the ball, Villa seemed to have been offside for half a body length?"
"Iniesta's pass to Xavi also seems to be offside? But it's hard to tell!"
"The linesman didn't signal! Spain is still leading with a score of one to zero!"
The excited screams of the Spanish fans on the field directly drowned out the sparse and uncertain voices of doubt. The linesman had no way of judging whether the ball was offside without raising the flag. In the chaos on the field, it was difficult for the linesman to concentrate and judge the specific situation.
Cristiano clapped his hands and greeted his frustrated teammates. They still had more than 20 minutes to stage a comeback.
"The game has reached the 80th minute and Ronaldo quickly kicks off. We really have to seize every minute and every second now!"
"The ball is in the penalty area! Players from Spain and Portugal jump up at the same time to head the ball!"
"The ball brushed the side post—"
Just when everyone's attention was focused on the ball, the Spanish veteran suddenly fell to the ground, covering his face and rolling around. The referee quickly ran over and showed a red card to the Portuguese, young Costa without hesitation.
The commentator in the broadcast room gasped: "This red card seems to be too easy!?"
"Let's take a slow-motion look at what's going on!"
"It seems that the elbow hit the Spaniard's face during the jump? God, this is a bit unfair."
"Ronaldo was excitedly explaining something to the referee, and the player who was sent off looked at him in confusion." The commentator said quickly, "Portugal, which was already one point behind, now has to face the dilemma of playing ten games with eleven players! This is really adding insult to injury..."
The referee ignored Cristiano's explanation. The red card had been given and the outcome was decided.
Cristiano covered his face with his hands and looked at the Spanish goal helplessly. Casillas stood in front of the goal and looked at him. He bit his lip and gave him a thumbs up.
——Casillas’ consecutive saves were indeed beautiful.
"Ronaldo also looks exhausted. Can Cristiano Ronaldo create miracles again this time like he did in the past? Can Portugal go further in the World Cup journey?"
However, facing the situation of one less player, even though Portugal had players like Cristiano, Pepe and Carvalho, they still couldn't score the equalizing goal in the final countdown.
"Cristiano Ronaldo took the ball and shot from a long distance! The ball brushed the side post and flew out! The game is over! The referee blew the whistle to end the game!"
"Portugal unfortunately stopped in the quarter-finals. Ronaldo failed to create a miracle this time and failed to lead Portugal to go further. Portugal, which has lost its golden generation, seems to have entered a state of suspension!"
"Faced with a new and old starting lineup, Portugal stumbled all the way in this World Cup qualifier. Now qualifying for the group stage is the result of the best efforts of the entire team..."
"Ronaldo barely touched the ball in this game, but he still managed two shots on target!"
"Spanish striker Villa scored a golden goal to help Spain advance to the quarter-finals!"
The Spaniards on the bench all rushed into the field excitedly, while Cristiano fell on his back on the field as if he had exhausted his strength. He covered his face with his arms and his shoulders twitched violently several times.
God, he still couldn't do it. He thought in annoyance.
Quaresma walked over slowly with tired steps. He was substituted on the bench in the second half. He bent down and pulled Cristiano up from the grass. Cristiano lowered his head and hugged his friend, calling out softly.
Quaresma looked at the round head with only a whorl of hair visible. He was silent for a moment, then whispered: "We did everything, Chris, don't be sad, we will have other games, other goals and championships. You said we would bring back the gold cup for Portugal."
Casillas took off his goalkeeper gloves and walked towards Cristiano. He glanced at Pepe who was standing next to Chris, nodded slightly to Pepe and greeted him. After the two hugged each other gently, he walked towards Cristiano.
Quaresma let go of Chris when he saw this.
Casillas opened his arms and hugged Cristiano into his arms. He patted Cristiano's head. He guessed that Cristiano's eyes must be red at this moment.
He said nothing. He didn't want to do the annoying thing of comforting others after winning the game.
"Ronnie, are you okay?" Pique came over quickly and gave Cristiano a hug as well, but he didn't have time to say anything.
Ramos interrupted from the side, he pressed on Cristiano and rubbed Cristiano's hair hard: "Listen to me, Chris, you are already great, you played beautifully, do you hear me?"
Casillas, who was pushed aside, said: “…”
Seeing this, Quaresma pushed Ramos away without any hesitation. He frowned and glared at the Spaniard who was so strong that he started to touch him. Then he turned to look at his friend. Cristiano's eyes were indeed extremely red, and he lowered his head and looked like he was about to cry.
Ramos and Pique both took off their jerseys. Seeing this, they looked at each other at the same time and then glared at each other.
"Ronnie, exchange jerseys with me?"
"Get lost, that's my club-mate, who are you?"
Cristiano was in no mood. He took off his white away jersey and casually handed it to the chattering Spaniard next to him.
Casillas quickly took it, raised the jersey in his hand, and shouted to Cristiano's back: "I'll bring my jersey over later!"
Ramos, Pique: "..."
Cristiano returned to the locker room, sat on the bench with his upper body naked, and his muscles began to clamor with soreness after the adrenaline surged and subsided.
None of the other teammates in the locker room spoke, and the entire locker room was uncomfortably silent.
Not long after, someone entered the locker room, which caused a little movement in the room.
Cristiano noticed someone standing in front of him. He didn't look up. He guessed it was their head coach Queiroz, or the assistant coach who came in to comfort them.
But he didn't want to hear this. He was no longer at the age where he needed to be comforted or lectured by his coach.
What they were going to say was what he would tell his teammates, but now, at this moment, no one could help him, and those boring words were just excuses.
What he knew deep down was that he didn't do it well. If the free kick had gone in, if his final shot hadn't hit the post, and if his finishing had been better?
He will change history.
"Hey, my child." A deep voice sounded in Cristiano's ears, "Cristiano, don't you welcome me? Don't you want to look at me?"
Cristiano suddenly raised his head when he heard the voice. He looked at the source of the voice in surprise. Figo was wearing a formal suit and looked like he was going to a press conference at any time. He didn't know when he walked into their locker room, let alone when he came to his side.
Figo put his arm around Cristiano's shoulders and patted his arm slightly. It was much stronger than when he knew Cristiano.
He lowered his eyes and looked at the boy, as if the scene of them holding the championship four years ago was still in front of him. The little Portuguese happily hugged them and sang and danced, his eyelashes were also soaked, long, thick and curved upwards, but this time, his boy tried hard to pout the corners of his mouth to stop himself from crying.
Figo stood a little closer and exhaled softly, "We all know how hard this is, Chris."
Cristiano did not answer. He just lowered his head, put his arm around Figo's thigh, and subconsciously leaned to the side, as if he suddenly found a place where he could relax his shoulders for a short while.
Figo felt the warmth approaching his thigh. He looked down and saw Cristiano's hair whooshing and the boy's subconscious leaning on him. His heart softened.
"I really don't want you to come to this game, Luis. We lost and you have to watch us go back to Portugal," Cristiano said.
Figo paused after hearing this. His hands exerted a little more force and pinched the back of Cristiano's neck. "In fact, on the contrary, I am very happy that I am here. I saw that this Portugal team is like a newborn calf. Even if they are still standing unsteadily and staggering, they have amazing courage. They charge at the tigers again and again and never give up even if they are injured."
"I see you in this Portugal team, Cristiano, my child," Figo said, patting Cristiano's head. "I see your spirit, which affects everyone in the team. Every player is so respectable. They fought to the end, and this is the key."
Cristiano nodded, his voice slightly nasal: "Yes, Luis, I love this team, I love every one of them, they deserve better results, I'm just sorry, I'm sorry."
Figo looked at him, paused for a few seconds, and said: "When I took off the captain's armband and handed it to you, Cristiano, I thought to myself, God, this child is still so young and immature, do I have to hand over such a cruel burden to his shoulders?"
Portugal is not a traditional strong team, but they won the World Cup that year. If possible, wouldn't the golden generation want to continue to win the next victory together in the national team? But too many years had passed between them and Cristiano, and they had to let go.
Figo knew very well that the only one left for Portugal was Cristiano to carry the ship. Their ship was not strong, and it was fragile and small under the huge waves, but they had to ride on the wind and waves to sail far away.
"But deep in my heart, there was a voice that told me firmly that the child could do it. He had eyes firmer than diamonds, faith as strong as gold, impeccable talent, and incredible perseverance."
"Cristiano, look, I chose you, Portugal chose you. Winning or losing a game doesn't mean anything, and it won't change anything. We will always trust you. You are our child, the golden boy of Portugal." Figo smiled and joked, "Oh, but now the golden boy has grown up, but he still cries."
Cristiano's ears slowly turned red. He lowered his head and wiped his tears on Figo's trousers. There might be a little snot, so he wiped it twice with his hands. He guessed Luis wouldn't mind.
"Thank you, Luis," Cristiano said softly.
Figo did not miss Cristiano's little move. He paused and pinched Cristiano's ear, feeling both amused and helpless.
"Well, do you need to take a shower? There's still a post-interview. The captain of Portugal was voted the most attractive captain in this World Cup..." Figo paused, then looked at their captain, whose face was red like a strawberry and whose eyes were wet like a puppy. He muttered, "Well, maybe this won't overturn anything."
He dares to say that this attraction is popular among people of all ages, both men and women.
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