"True dual-wing flight! What Palmieri lacked in speed, the Senegalese completely compensated for, and he even showed passing ability beyond expectations."
The comntator's words were completely drowned out by the excited voices of the fans.
Bastia erupted!
Although they were still one goal behind, they saw a brand-new future for their team. This counterattack showed them Bastia's highly efficient offense.
De Bruyne orchestrated.
Mané advanced.
Julien finished!
The Cesari Stadium echoed with chants of "Forza Bastia!" With just over ten minutes remaining and only one goal behind, they still had a chance.
"CO ON" Julien grabbed the ball, waving his arms and shouting for his teammates to hurry up with the restart.
After kicking the ball to the center circle, he beckoned to Mané and embraced him. "If that's how you play! No one in Ligue 1 can stop you."
After this assist, all the frustration in Mané's heart was swept away.
He hugged Julien tightly and said softly. "Thank you, Julien."
During this most difficult period, Julien had always actively helped him integrate into the team and constantly encouraged him.
"Co on, I told you: your future isn't limited to Ligue 1. You can compete for the Ballon d'Or." Julien patted his shoulder.
Mané smiled and nodded, then shook his head.
The nod was because he had built confidence; he would work hard and give everything for Bastia. The head shake was because he didn't think he had a chance at the Ballon d'Or.
In his view, there was only one person at Bastia with hope of winning the Ballon d'Or.
That was Julien.
On the sideline, after Julien scored this goal, Galtier's expression grew serious. Though he was still leading by one goal, he looked as if he was down by several.
"Focus Boys, Focus!!" He shouted at his players to strengthen their defense, and his subsequent words were full of strictness.
On the other side, Hadzibegic's spirits were lifted. Like the fans, he saw a new tactical possibility for Bastia.
Bastia's sumr transfer record signing had beco active and alive!
In the stands, Chataigner smiled and said to Geronimi, "Chairman, it looks like we struck gold this sumr window! Haha!"
Geronimi no longer felt the disappointnt of losing. Compared to results, seeing Bastia's talented players erge one after another made him even happier.
Teams were already inquiring about Kanté, opening with offers of three million euros.
They had only paid 400,000 euros for Kanté.
That was nearly a ten-fold return!
Now, with Mané's performance in this assist, Geronimi didn't think he'd be worth less than Kanté.
At least ten million euros!
Geronimi suddenly burst into laughter. Bastia was truly going to beco wealthy!
"Chairman, please stay calm. We still need to spend money on our defense," Chataigner quickly interrupted Geronimi's excitent, worried that the chairman might think the squad was already strong enough and wouldn't make winter signings.
In the sumr window, they had only signed one center-back on a free transfer—Marchal—plus right-back Jonathan Clauss.
Marchal currently seed rely adequate.
Clauss was more like a lottery ticket Chataigner had picked up on the side, not expecting him to have a chance to play in the league.
At most, he might get a try in unimportant matches like the League Cup.
"I understand, I understand."
Crash!
As Geronimi spoke, he was suddenly interrupted by the roar from the Cesari Stadium fans.
Play resud on the field.
Aubayang passed the ball to Cohade, who saw Novaes positioned quite far forward and went for a direct lob shot!
The ball hit the crossbar and landed on the net behind.
This drew gasps from the crowd.
Julien pressed both hands down toward his teammates, telling everyone not to rush—there was still ti.
De Bruyne shouted at Lukaku, "Move more! Don't keep drifting wide and crowding the flanks. If necessary, drop back to receive the ball."
Lukaku scratched his dreadlocks and gave De Bruyne a thumbs up.
In this match, apart from his goal, he really hadn't contributed much.
He had originally thought Saint-Étienne would be a soft target, but they turned out to be quite tough.
This shattered his dreams of being the "Belgian Klose" on the spot.
Novaes kicked the ball out.
Saint-Étienne's formation was completely set up for low defensive positioning, with only Aubayang left up front. They had even substituted the underperforming Hamouma for Guilavogui, a midfielder with stronger defensive capabilities.
Galtier looked at the ti on the scoreboard, hoping his team could hold on.
Saint-Étienne actively retreated into their shell, letting Bastia completely control possession, but they showed no signs of relaxing their marking of Julien.
With the wingers dropping back, the marking on Julien beca even tighter.
De Bruyne, Mané, and Lukaku all had shooting attempts, none finding the net.
Even Kanté and Rothen tried their luck.
Ti continued to tick away.
In the stands, the fans had stopped singing other songs. The North Stand, led by Modoso, was simply chanting in unison—
"FORZA BASTIA!!"
"FORZA BASTIA!!"
At the Sunset Café Bar, fans raised and lowered their hearts with each Bastia attack.
They held their wine glasses in the air, forgetting to drink.
Every pair of eyes was fixed on the single screen, each person's mind constantly torn.
"Do we still have a chance?"
"Probably not."
"Maybe?"
No one ordered more drinks; Bertrand's attention was completely absorbed by the match.
For a mont, he seed to rge with the little boy who used to watch matches beside Jacques in his childhood.
Except back then, he didn't understand these feelings. By the ti he did, Jacques was no longer by his side.
Crash!
The sa exclamation that filled the Cesari Stadium erupted in the bar, followed imdiately by a collective sigh.
"Ohh"
Mané cut inside for a shot, but Ruffier tipped it over the crossbar.
De Bruyne wasted no ti, quickly running to the corner flag to prepare for the kick.
It was already the 88th minute. Having started and played the full match, his stamina was severely depleted.
He stood with hands on hips, breathing heavily while waiting for his teammates to get into position.
Most of Bastia's players pushed forward, leaving only Kanté and Cioni behind for defense.
Julien positioned himself at the near post.
Thump!
De Bruyne sent the ball out, but instead of crossing into the center of the box, he played it to the edge of the penalty area.
Rothen!
Wide open!
Seeing Rothen receive the ball, Saint-Étienne players imdiately tensed, with Gradel and others at the front rushing toward Rothen.
Everyone's eyes were on Rothen.
This veteran beca the fans' hope at this mont.
But when his foot was about to make contact with the ball, instead of shooting, he chipped it up.
The ball sailed over the defensive line and dropped into the six-yard box.
In the crowd, Julien started with explosive speed, quickly erging from the mass of Saint-Étienne players.
Zouma, who was closest, tried to grab Julien but was blocked by Lukaku setting a screen.
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