Julien's speed was lightning fast.
The other Bastia players hadn't yet managed to co up in support, leaving Julien fighting alone.
If it were any other player, the fans wouldn't have such high expectations.
But this was Julien!
This was JULIEN!
Thousands of eyes focused on Julien.
Julien didn't slow down. He knew his current situation clearly—he couldn't wait for his teammates to co up and support him.
Verratti and Matuidi were chasing back.
The opportunity was fleeting!
Whoosh!
The entire stadium suddenly erupted in gasps.
"Julien!"
Facing Maxwell's defense, Julien suddenly poked the ball behind him, then while maintaining his extre speed, he accelerated again!
In that mont, Julien pushed his speed to the absolute limit.
"My God!"
The fans couldn't help but hold their heads—this was a completely different Julien from usual. No fancy skills, just pure speed.
Maxwell clearly hadn't expected Julien to break through like this.
He turned a split second too late. That split second ant two or three body lengths.
Julien continued his sprint. He felt his stamina draining rapidly and the burning sensation in his thigh muscles, but his eyes saw only the goal!
After shaking off Maxwell, Julien cut inside.
Silva beca the last defender. While sprinting at high speed, Julien suddenly dropped his shoulder, tilting his body to the left and smoothly dribbling past.
Silva quickly extended his foot to close in.
But in such an extre situation, Julien incredibly managed a sudden stop, using his left foot to knock the ball to his right foot, then pushing forward with his right.
His whole body surged ahead.
A croqueta!
A croqueta after a high-speed sudden stop!
Whoosh!
This ti, not only were the fans stunned, but even the Paris Saint-Germain players, Deschamps and Zidane in the stands, De Rocca family and Saliba watching the broadcast, and Bastia's reserve players—everyone involuntarily cried out in amazent.
Silva knew it was over the mont he made his move. He quickly twisted his body, forcing his center of gravity to shift, trying to turn and stop Julien.
But when he barely managed to turn around, his center of gravity was unstable.
A simple collision with Julien sent him tumbling to the ground.
Sirigu rushed out. He was closing down the near post.
The angle grew smaller and smaller. Without much hesitation, Julien summoned all his strength for a thunderous shot!
Sirigu quickly dove down, his hands attempting to gather the ball.
He had completely blocked the shot. However, just as he was about to secure it, the ball slipped!
A fumble!
Julien was incredibly alert, imdiately following up for the rebound. This ti, Sirigu was helpless.
This was practically an open goal.
A breakthrough in the darkness!
Julien threw his arms up in celebration, sliding on his knees out of the penalty area, then rising and pumping his fists with all his might.
The Bastia fans on the sidelines scread "Julien" frantically.
Each pump of Julien's fist stirred their emotions to greater heights—the security staff could barely contain these supporters.
His teammates gradually caught up and embraced Julien in celebration.
When De Bruyne hugged him, he said, "You always leave people in awe."
The TF1 comntator's beca emotional and his voice soared: "GOOOAL!! DE ROCCCAA…. What a solo run goal! Bastia's reliable super captain! He will be the French captain—nothing is impossible for him, he will lead France to summit!"
Other Comntators were saying:
"Bastia takes the lead again, 3-2 at ho against PSG! De Rocca was involved in all three goals—two goals and one assist! I think the world is too eager to hear stories of young talent, and can't wait for 18-year-old De Rocca to enter every fan's field of vision!"
"In his first top-level league season, just six rounds into the league, Julien has appeared only four tis but already scored eight goals! He leads the second-place tie between Aubayang and teammate Lukaku by three goals!"
The PSG players seed sowhat frustrated amid the deafening cheers at Stade Armand Cesari.
Conceding right after kickoff—who could stand that?
Ibrahimović couldn't help but curse "Figlio di puttana."
After the celebration, Hadzibegic quickly shouted to his players, "Watch the defense! Watch the defense!"
Having been equalized twice before, Hadzibegic didn't think that taking the lead again ant they were safe.
Beep!
The match continued.
Bastia dropped deep in defense, sparing no energy in blocking PSG's passes and shots.
On the sideline, Ancelotti's forehead furrowed slightly.
At this rate, it would be difficult for Paris to take victory from here.
The TF1 comntator pointed out Bastia's current crisis: "This is already Bastia's strongest lineup. On the bench, there are almost no better defensive players. If Paris continues their siege, can Bastia's players maintain their stamina?"
This was also Hadzibegic's concern.
Ti ticked away.
In the stands behind the Bastia bench, Chataigner and Geronimi, like most fans, looked tense despite the lead.
PSG's wave after wave of attacks was like the ocean's raging tide.
Bastia wasn't an unmovable rock—they were flesh and blood.
Whoosh!
Suddenly a gasp, followed by cheers from the fans.
"Beautiful, Kanté!"
"That's how you show them what we're made of!"
On the field, Kanté wiped away sweat and silently retreated to the defensive area. He had just wrestled the ball away from Verratti in their tussle, knocking it out of bounds.
His energy expenditure this match had been enormous. But he continued running silently, doing his utmost to prevent PSG's attacks from breaking through the center.
Rothen high-fived him and praised: "Well done."
In the stands:
"He might deserve a chance. He is worth trying." Zidane said.
In this match, Kanté had completely beco Bastia's midfield defensive core.
The key was his diligent attitude and tireless running. This earned him enormous defensive coverage.
Wasn't this exactly the kind of defensive midfielder the French national team desperately needed?
Deschamps clearly shared the sa thought.
He nodded, about to say sothing, but suddenly his eyes lit up as he looked toward the field, and automatically shouted: "Julien!"
PSG was attacking.
Ibrahimović's ball was poked away by Angoula.
Then De Bruyne launched a long pass, sending the ball directly toward the opposing half.
Manet had more defensive duties and was positioned behind Julien.
Julien charged ahead!
Seeing the absolute opportunity, he held nothing back, sprinting with everything he had.
Silva saw Julien about to break free and directly grabbed him.
It looked almost like a wrestling takedown, bringing Julien to the ground.
"Boooooooooooooo!!"
Imdiately, the entire stadium erupted in fierce boos.
"Red card!"
"Red card!!"
The fans shouted.
Beep!
The referee imdiately blew his whistle, walking toward Silva, but he didn't imdiately pull out a card, he was clearly thinking it over.
Silva imdiately protested: "This was just a tactical foul, there's still Alves—"
Ancelotti grew nervous.
All the PSG players grew nervous. Silva's importance to PSG was self-evident.
The referee shook his head at Silva.
anwhile, Rothen urgently gestured toward the Bastia bench: "Team doctor!"
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