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Lance was surrounded by Spanish reporters for what felt like the umpteenth ti.
Compared to Bundesliga interviews, interviews in Spain were like being in a noisy market.
The reporters' mouths were like machine guns, constantly spitting out words.
Lance's Spanish was fine for daily conversations, but for slightly deeper interview content, he still had to concentrate to listen.
So Spanish reporters also had accents, making it even harder to distinguish what they were saying when they spoke quickly.
It was very tiring to give interviews.
"Mr Lance, Atlético Madrid successfully completed a coback today, defeating Valencia 2-1. Did you anticipate this outco before the match? How do you evaluate the opponent's performance?"
"Valencia is a very resilient and impactful team. They caused us a lot of trouble in the first half. Fortunately, we seized the opportunity and successfully won the match. Otherwise, Barcelona and Real Madrid would have been happy, and I can't let them have it easy."
Lance's occasional humour made the Spanish reporters quite fond of this young Asian man.
"Then, Mr Lance, so people are now saying that Atlético Madrid can only win with you, and that everyone else is unimportant. What do you think about that?"
Lance glanced at the reporter asking the question, who was holding a Catalonia TV microphone.
It was clearly soone trying to stir up trouble.
Having just finished the match, Lance's clothes were soaked, and the sweat on his neck was uncomfortable.
He wasn't in the mood to play mind gas with this group of reporters.
"There's no such saying. The reason I can score goals is thanks to the whole team. Every teammate played their part. I ca on as a substitute and was able to turn the ga around; it was just good luck."
Excessive humility is just showing off!
Lance stood there with his head held high, saying he was lucky; which reporter on the scene would believe him?
The fact was that Lance's presence, both tactically and psychologically, brought imnse pressure to the opponents.
Sotis, Lance only needed to stand on the sidelines waiting to be substituted, and the opponents were already starting to tremble.
Finally, having dealt with the noisy reporters, Lance returned to the changing room and let out a long sigh of relief.
"Good work, Lance. We owe it to you today."
"Coach, as long as we win, that's what matters. Our opponents are Real Madrid and Barcelona. It would be too unfair to stumble in such matches."
For so reason, playing in La Liga felt much more stressful than in the Bundesliga.
In the Bundesliga, it was only a title race with Bayern, with more room for error.
Bayern wasn't invincible within the Bundesliga, and occasionally they would slip up.
But La Liga seed to have a more rigid hierarchy.
Barcelona still hadn't dropped points, and Real Madrid was also biting hard at their heels.
If anyone dropped the ball in regular matches, and was slightly careless a few tis, they might lose the championship.
Next up was another week of double matches.
On October 31st, an away ga against Deportivo La Coruña; on November 3rd, a Champions League group stage away ga against Benfica.
Two consecutive away gas back-to-back.
Seeing the schedule, the Atlético Madrid players couldn't help but groan, and the joy of victory was significantly diluted.
"I feel so tired; I want to go on holiday to the beach."
"Then you go. I'll play in your position."
"Why? If you're capable, snatch it yourself!"
Saúl and young winger Ángel Correa playfully bantered.
When holiday was ntioned, Griezmann sighed again.
"Next sumr, I'm afraid we won't have a holiday again."
"Oh, right, there's the European Cup next year."
"Antoine, your French National Team is very strong; you might have a chance."
"Indeed, we have a monster on our team..."
When that monster was ntioned, Griezmann's eyes changed.
"Who is it, how much of a monster?"
"Is it Martial from Manchester United?"
"You probably haven't heard the na; he's only 16 this year, as terrifying as Lance was back then."
"No way?"
Hearing Griezmann say that, Lance already knew who it was.
Kylian Mbappé, a 16-year-old Monaco striker, had just joined Monaco's first team.
This youngster had not yet made his mark, and not many people knew about him.
His breakout performance would be at the 2018 World Cup two years later.
Logically, Mbappé at that age shouldn't have been eligible for the French National Team.
Could it be the butterfly effect again?
"What's going on, 16 years old?" Lance also wondered.
"Yes. During the recent French National Team training camp, I had so contact with this kid. His physical condition is really good."
Griezmann's eyes were full of envy.
His monstrous physical qualities and explosive acceleration left all the French National Team players dumbfounded.
"Oh, right, this kid said he was inspired by you to start extra training. He's a fan of yours."
"My fan?"
Lance pointed at his nose, his mouth twitching.
The future number one in world football, one of the few world-class superstars after the ssi and Ronaldo era, was his fan?
"Yeah, he also said he wanted to help him get an autograph. I almost forgot about it; Lance, you'll sign one for later."
"Alright."
Sure enough, it was his butterfly effect, accelerating Mbappé's developnt, leading to his exceptional selection for the France national team at 16.
Adding to that the monstrous Martial who had just debuted, along with Giroud, Kanté, Griezmann, and Pogba, next year's European Cup hosts, France, would definitely be one of Belgium's biggest opponents.
Of course, Portugal was predicted to win the championship.
Cristiano Ronaldo was the hidden boss.
Belgium, where Lance was, might have a bit of a chance.
Who told him he was the "Cristiano Ronaldo nesis"?
"Winning a European Cup would also be quite nice."
"Lance, what are you thinking about?"
"I'm thinking that next year's European Cup champion will be ours, Belgium's."
"Oh? Then we'll have to fight hard for it!"
Griezmann curled his lips, showing a competitive smile.
"What are you guys talking about? The champion is clearly us, Spain!"
Saúl couldn't help but interject.
"You get into the national team first."
"Damn it, Lance, I'll fight you!"
Hit where it hurt, Saúl was on the verge of tears.
Joyful laughter echoed in the changing room.
Next year's European Cup was still far away, after all.
Everyone was still close teammates for now, needing to deal with the upcoming packed schedule…
...
In La Liga's 10th round, Atlético Madrid won 1-0 against Deportivo La Coruña away from ho, with a scare but ultimately safe.
Lance didn't score, but he attracted the attention of four players in the front, setting up Torres.
This forr Atlético Madrid legendary striker lived up to expectations, precisely hitting the bottom corner to score the only goal of the match.
No ti to celebrate, Atlético Madrid had to set off with the whole team, directly heading to the neighbouring country Portugal's capital, Lisbon, to face the Portuguese league champions, Benfica, who were currently second in their Champions League group!
"If we can win this match, we'll be first in the group!"
Currently in Champions League Group C, Atlético Madrid had 3 wins and 9 points, temporarily ranking first in the group.
Benfica was also very strong, having only lost to Atlético Madrid, and successfully defeated Bayer Leverkusen and Astana.
They were temporarily second in the group with 6 points.
Bayer Leverkusen had lost several key players, and their combat effectiveness was not comparable to last season.
Last season's Champions League Final team might be relegated to the embarrassing situation of being eliminated in the group stage.
Unless Atlético Madrid won this match, Bayer Leverkusen still had a bit of a chance.
"For Bayer Leverkusen, we can't lose this match either!"
The Portugal Team's ho stadium, Benfica's ho stadium, Estádio da Luz.
Lance started the match, stepping on the ball at the centre circle, his disdainful gaze sweeping over the opponents in front of him!
The Benfica players felt as if the Shaolin team was eting the Devil team for the first ti, only feeling imnse pressure emanating from Lance, enveloping them like a dark cloud!
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