Debut goal.
This was a mont that belonged to genius. Many Bastia fans watching the broadcast couldn't help but cheer for Julien.
In Bastia's club history, there had been many players who made the fans cheer—nas familiar to football lovers across the world: the ageless Roger Milla, the dynamic Michael Essien, and many more who left their mark on the island.
But Julien had shown his stark difference from Bastia's usual style with just one goal.
Graceful, nimble. Completely at odds with Bastia's collection of tough guys.
"Well done!"
As Julien walked toward the center circle, high-fiving every teammate he encountered, they all gave him thumbs up.
This goal was purely the result of Julien's individual ability.
While partly due to Valenciennes' lack of attention to Julien and their defensive gaps, those few dribbling moves by Julien were like art, completely showcasing his talent.
Other Bastia players believed they could perform those moves too, but only on the training ground, in actual matches, they absolutely couldn't pull them off.
This was the gap between them and Julien.
Julien absorbed his teammates' praise and the Valenciennes fans' astonishnt, savoring the monts of that goal.
"This feeling isn't bad at all," he murmured to himself.
The nervousness about the match in his heart had vanished like smoke with the white ripples of the ball hitting the net.
Now Julien's heart was filled completely with desire for victory.
He wanted to win! Not just for the reward, but for himself.
"We are the orange flas, we will burn the entire sky! Goal! Victory!! Orange flags will forever fly in Valenciennes."
After Bastia pulled one back, the Valenciennes fans, after a brief mont of shock, began singing their support songs again, cheering for the ho team.
They firmly believed this was just a small setback on their path to victory.
But Bastia, energized by Julien's goal, beca spirited. If they couldn't attack well, couldn't they at least defend?
Physical confrontation was Bastia's strength anyway.
The smallest gap between top-tier and lower-tier leagues might be physical confrontation.
This was very obvious in England.
The Championship's confrontation intensity was even stronger than Premier League teams.
The reason was simple: when technique isn't enough, make up for it with physicality.
Bastia was full of hard and smart hands.
Various small fouls, constantly disrupting the ga through petty violations, prevented Valenciennes from utilizing their technical advantage.
Bastia's compact defense also caused Valenciennes great trouble.
Swoosh!
At the seventieth minute, Danich attempted a long-range shot from outside the penalty area, sailing well over the crossbar.
But it still drew gasps from the crowd.
Danich shook his head helplessly.
As Valenciennes' top scorer, he had two players marking him at all tis in this match, and with teammates unable to pass the ball through, his chances in the penalty area were few.
Occasional forced shots, like this one, went flying.
Valenciennes' attack stagnated, which only boosted Bastia players' morale in defense!
Bastia's formation was compressed very flat.
In this situation, Julien barely touched the ball, as Hajibegić's arrangent ant he had no defensive duties and only needed to wait for opportunities in the front.
But after his goal, Gil's marking on him had obviously intensified.
He absolutely wouldn't leave him beyond a three-ter range.
The broadcast comntator, seeing Julien going long periods without touching the ball again, said, "Julien has sothing, but now he's completely marked by Gil, and with no teammates passing to him, he'll likely struggle to find more chances."
Gamblers were now wailing.
"I bet big! Score more goals!"
"Ugh, I bet on ho team win other score, crying, how did Valenciennes suddenly go flat?"
"Hurry up and add more, or I'll really lose everything."
"Valenciennes is still a sure win, adding more won't hurt!"
"Just score goals, I just bet heavily!"
They just wanted Valenciennes to score!
But as ti passed, Valenciennes players seed to have forgotten their shooting boots. Danich missed three clear chances, leaving the ho fans deeply disappointed.
At least they were still ahead.
They could accept that.
But Montanier couldn't accept it. In the second half, he constantly shook his head on the sidelines, gesturing frantically to no avail.
After another attack went out of bounds, Montanier looked up at the scoreboard ti with pursed lips—79 minutes.
Ten minutes left.
He shook his head helplessly. If they couldn't score, they'd just control possession. He signaled to his players to stabilize the situation.
At the 80th minute, he substituted forward Gregory for midfielder Djuric to strengthen midfield control.
Hajibegić looked at the one-goal deficit, feeling anxious but helpless. For the team to maintain this scoreline was already very difficult.
If they wanted to attack, it was no longer possible. It was already past eighty minutes, and apart from Julien, he hadn't made substitutions. The starting players had at most twenty to thirty percent energy left. Wanting to attack while maintaining defense was almost impossible.
However, for him, though they lost this match, it was completely acceptable—a result that everyone at Bastia could accept.
A narrow defeat.
And they persisted to the end—they had won!
Châtaigner in the stands, chatting with Pierre, explained why they didn't field their full main squad: "The team struggles with two-front battles; the priority is still the league—we need promotion."
He also said, "This is why we decided to give Julien half a ga. This kind of match, losing is losing, but importantly, it gives Julien a chance to integrate with the team. He did well—you have a good son."
"Thank you," Pierre and his wife responded.
Pierre wanted to ask about future league opportunities for Julien, but was interrupted by sudden exclamations.
He imdiately turned his gaze to the field.
There was Julien charging down the flank with the ball!
"Julien!!"
At this mont, Loup also shouted his brother's na loudly.
All Bastia eyes lit up.
An opportunity!
Having not participated in defense for a long ti, Julien's stamina was still decent. Though not the fastest, his current sprint held nothing back.
Gil, knowing Julien's strong dribbling ability, didn't dare get too close, instead blocking the inside while letting the retreating Matt follow Julien.
Julien charged forward with his head down.
Maolida in the center was also gritting his teeth and charging forward, knowing Julien needed a passing option.
Julien brought the ball to the right side of the penalty area and paused slightly, planning to cut inside.
With Gil in front and Matt behind.
After a fake inside cut, Julien suddenly pushed the ball toward the goal line, rushing past, trying to force his way through before Gil could close in.
But Gil was tall with long legs, stretching out a foot that looked certain to reach the ball.
With lightning-quick footwork, Julien poked the ball forward just before Gil could reach it, adjusted his steps, and continued along the goal line.
In a split second, goalkeeper Penato had no ti to think deeply and quickly rushed to block the near post.
Bang!
But Julien passed a reverse triangle!
Maolida, who had been holding off opponent Dukutio throughout, was getting soft in his final steps, but fortunately, he reached the ball first.
With no ti to adjust his shooting position, relying purely on forward montum, he knocked the ball into the goal.
Swoosh!
87th minute, 2-2.
Bastia had equalized against Valenciennes!!
BOOM!!
This goal exploded like thunder in the minds of Valenciennes fans—a scene absolutely no one would have imagined half an hour ago!
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