It was also a winter. The same thing happened in the sky, with fine snow falling. They say it’s not cold when it snows, only when the snow melts, but the winter in England is an exception.
It is rainy and cloudy in England in winter. The sky seems to be always covered with a layer of suffocating fog, just like the haze weighing on the hearts of all Chelsea fans.
The proud and sympathetic expressions of Liverpool fans and Manchester United fans are still vivid in my mind.
Last season, they couldn't escape the Champions League curse. The European Champions trophy was right within reach, but they just couldn't touch it.
This season, the Champions League group stage has not been smooth sailing. Some die-hard fans still remember that when they were walking out of Stamford Bridge with worries, a young man with a childish face interrupted them.
It was snowing that day, but he didn't wear a hat. Instead, he let the snowflakes fall on his soft hair, forming a thin layer of snow.
They were clearly in a bad mood, but for some reason they couldn't get angry.
The warm smile on the young man's face made them involuntarily suppress the gloom in their hearts.
"Hello," he smiled, his dimples sweet, "Excuse me, how do I get to the youth training center at Stamford Bridge?"
They thought he was just a kid who sneaked out without telling his family.
Teenagers are like this, carefree, simple-minded, but with big dreams in their hearts. It just so happened that Chelsea’s youth training team opened trials during those days.
They thought that he would be taught a lesson through the strict youth training assessment. They thought he was just a passer-by.
However, three weeks later, they saw him again at Stamford Bridge.
This time, he did not appear outside the stadium again. He walked out of the player tunnel and stepped onto the snow-swept lawn.
He was wearing the No. 29 jersey of Chelsea's first team.
Chestnut hair, blue eyes, and those enchanting dimples...that's right! It's him!
That child with the warm smile!
Sleet.
The sudden chill woke up the fans at the scene.
The originally clear lens was now blurred with tiny water droplets. But this did not stop the fans in front of the TV from greedily eyeing the Englishman's face.
He still had the same expression, the same as before, no change at all!
No, there are still changes! He didn't look at the camera this time!
Look at me! Many female fans were shouting in their hearts, hoping that he would look over here.
The fine snowflakes passed by his cheeks in the wind, as if reluctant to leave, and stayed on his eyelashes, unwilling to leave.
His chestnut hair, eyebrows and long eyelashes were soon covered with a thin layer of snow. Against the backdrop of that special touch of white, the azure eyes seemed even more tranquil and clear, and faintly, as if... filled with a layer of fleeting water light.
The female fans gasped.
When they were about to rub their eyes and take a closer look, the scene just now disappeared again. His eyes, like the gently curved corners of his mouth, still did not show any ripples.
Everything seems so fast that it's an illusion.
Is it an illusion? Am I the only one who saw it wrong?
The singing stopped, and all the tunes that brought the fans back to their fond memories and the various scenes that appeared before their eyes disappeared with a shrill whistle.
Like waking from a dream.
It's Clattenburg. He urged the players to kick off from the center circle.
After the camera turned away, it took advantage of the stalemate at the kick-off to quietly give a one-second close-up shot of the linesman on the sidelines.
The Englishman didn't notice the camera's renewed favor. He had a beautiful face, his expression remained the same, but his eyes looked completely different.
Very soft.
The snowflakes on his cheeks seemed to melt in the heat, freezing wetly beneath his eyelashes.
The snow is getting heavier. But that didn’t burden the referees dressed in black. Because they are running all the time, their eyes follow wherever the ball rolls.
They are more focused on the ball than the players. They are united in their seriousness and conscientiousness in carrying out their work.
The collision on the field was intense and was not affected by the sudden change in weather.
The wet grass could not extinguish the players' enthusiasm.
The state of the fans at the scene was a bit weird in comparison.
They watched the two sides compete absentmindedly, and for the first time they were dazed by the atmosphere of the home court.
What exactly did Alvin do just now?
Does he like our gift?
Is he touched?
Is he happy?
They stared blankly at his back as he ran quickly. They used to think that the movement of running and stopping quickly along a line was silly, but now they found it pleasing to the eye.
He feels so good even when he's just running! The muscles on his back are perfect!
The snow was a bit heavy and scattered all over his body, and was shaken off by his running. Is he cold?
A cold wind blew, and many fans shivered and couldn't help but put on more clothes. Then, she continued to look at his figure half worried, half anxiously, and half expectantly.
until--
His hands made other movements.
"Beep——" the sound of a whistle drew their attention back.
They couldn't help but look at the referee.
Clattenburg's whistle was still hanging on his chest, and it was obvious that the whistle was not blown by him!
Who is that!
Ivan raised the flag!
He raised his other hand, but because his back was facing away from them, they couldn't see his movements in front of them.
But compared to the somewhat confused expression of the opposing linesman, the one who blew the whistle was Ivan!
What happened on the field?
＊
At this time, Manchester.
C Ronaldo just finished training and drove back home.
He came in, took off his shoes and sat on the sofa.
Do you always feel like you forgot something today?
What's the matter? The Portuguese didn't remember it at once.
The doorbell rang.
He opened the door and saw a familiar-looking courier outside. This was not the first time the man had been responsible for delivery in the area where he lived.
The courier boy also changed from being excited when he first saw him to being familiar and calm now: "Hey! Mr. Ronaldo, there is a package for you."
Ronaldo thanked the other party and raised his eyebrows as he looked at the express box in his hand that was so light that it was almost weightless.
As far as I can remember... he hasn't done any online shopping recently? Then who sent this express to him?
I shook it around, and well, it didn't look like there was any prank thing like a razor blade.
Eliminate black powder.
Hmm, could it be one of my fans? Luo Xiaoxiao smiled narcissistically.
He walked back and prepared to find a knife. As he turned around, he caught a glimpse of the calendar hanging on the wall.
November 20, 2008...
Hey! Isn't today the day that Alvin will referee the Chelsea game?
He had exchanged messages with Alvin a few days ago.
Could it be that Ivan’s referee uniform has arrived?
C Luo quickened the pace of unpacking.
Sure enough, there was a neatly folded black sportswear in the box with the word FIFA (International Football Federation) on it.
It is black and very pure. The Portuguese rubbed it with his fingers. The fabric is good and FIFA is willing to spend money on it.
This was his first time changing into referee uniforms, and the feeling was different from changing into other players' uniforms. Hmm... I wonder what it feels like to wear it? Luo Xiaoxiao touched her chin and revealed a sweet smile that she herself was not aware of.
He lives alone in the huge villa, and there is still some time before he goes to the gym upstairs for training, so Ronaldo decides to turn on the TV which he rarely uses.
I wonder if Chelsea’s game is over?
The author has something to say:
Rooney: →_→
Cech: →_→
Raul: →_→
Referee Fu Ivan (emphasis added): →_→ White girl, I don’t have any small theater to watch.
Messixi: QAQ Author, what happened to me being the cutest?
Ramos: The author is finally not short anymore, and the day when I will debut is getting closer (proud with arms akimbo)
Cassie: →_→
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