Old warrior, heart of steel,
Your long passes make us feel!
Through rain and snow, through wind and cold,
You lead us in songs of red and gold!
Every pass a work of art,
Every touch straight from the heart!
PLZEŇ! PLZEŇ! VICTORY ETERNAL!
Our maestro, our general!
When you score, the whole ground roars—
This is what we're fighting for!
Steel heart beating, never old,
Plzeň legend, brave and bold!
----------
The chants echoed through the air.
This seed to be Plzen's night.
Fine rain blanketed the sky, reflecting the stadium lights' glow. The Viktoria Plzen players celebrated passionately while Bastia's players shook their heads in resignation.
"Bastia gave everything three days ago," the TF1 comntator observed and said. "Right now, they don't look like themselves."
Indeed, Bastia didn't look like Bastia. In the final minutes, they gritted their teeth, clinging to a two-goal deficit.
Tweet!
The halfti whistle blew.
Hadzibegic wore what looked like a "white veil" of frustration on his head, not moving to adjust it. His mind was completely focused on the second half.
Chataigner had traveled with the team to the Czech Republic. Instead of heading to the locker room, he stood at the player tunnel entrance, watching the raindrops fall over the pitch, feeling a tide of emotion rise within him.
Bastia's European campaign had gotten off to a poor start.
Players walked past him one by one toward the locker room. So didn't notice him; others managed forced smiles and nods of acknowledgnt when they saw him.
Chataigner's expression remained troubled. Then he spotted Julien, and like seeing a ray of hope, imdiately approached him.
"How are you feeling?"
Chataigner asked with concern. Despite the match's poor result, Julien's physical health remained the team's most precious asset.
"I can play the second half," Julien assured him, tapping his chest.
He knew the team needed soone to step up now, and he believed he could be that person.
But Chataigner shook his head. "This is a scheduling issue. We can let this match go—we underestimated the difficulty of European competition."
Looking back now, Chataigner truly felt the entire club had been overly optimistic. Every team that reached the Europa League was among the elite of their respective dostic leagues.
There are no weak teams in European competition!
Well, perhaps only relative to the giants. For a Ligue 1 newcor like Bastia, there were no weak opponents.
"Focus on your recovery. Don't go on," Chataigner continued.
Julien shook his head as well. "Let the others keep defending. I can go on and look for opportunities. I'm confident I can complete attacks on my own, and besides, there's Rolu—he can help too."
Chataigner looked deeply at Julien, then patted his uninjured shoulder. "I won't interfere. If Faruk puts you on, you play. If he doesn't, you don't. Go to the locker room now."
"Right."
Julien hurried toward the locker room.
At that mont, Hadzibegic's voice was already echoing inside.
"I know your legs feel like lead and your lungs are on fire, but this is European competition—no one gives compensation for being 'tired'! We're not tourists taking a stroll through Bohemia!"
Julien walked in.
Hadzibegic caught sight of him from the corner of his eye and continued, "You heard what the Plzen fans are saying?
'Bastia? Just Paris's leftovers!'
They think we don't deserve to be here! But three days ago, who kept Ibrahimovic gasping for breath until the final whistle?
We did!
The sa tough bone that Paris couldn't crack will break these Czechs' teeth today!"
He held up two fingers for emphasis. "Second half, all of you only need to rember two iron rules: First, forget possession, forget pressing—everyone defends! Not even a fly gets into our penalty area or near our goal!"
Hadzibegic scanned the locker room, his gaze settling on Julien. "Second, on the counter-attack, give the ball to Julien."
All eyes turned to Julien.
Rothen and others frowned slightly. De Bruyne looked dejected—he had said he didn't want Julien to play, but had it co to this anyway?
Outside the door, Chataigner heard Hadzibegic's decision and shook his head with a sigh.
Bastia was ultimately a team that couldn't function without Julien.
Or rather, Julien's presence had raised everyone at Bastia's expectations. They were utterly dependent on him.
Julien took a deep breath, his voice firm: "Leave it to ."
His teammates looked at him. These might have been the most reassuring words they could hear.
Yes—if anyone on this team could save them at a crucial mont, everyone's first thought would be Julien.
Julien t his teammates' gazes and nodded slightly.
Hadzibegic said nothing more. The second-half tactics were simple: defend and find Julien.
Hadzibegic pulled Julien aside privately and said, "I'm sorry, but the team can only rely on you."
Julien nodded. "This is a captain's duty, isn't it?"
He suddenly thought of Clauss and added: "Perhaps we could bring on so fresh-legged players for the back line. If it's just defending, they might manage."
Back in the locker room, the dical staff applied additional elastic muscle tape to Julien's shoulder to help stabilize his shoulder joint and distribute so of the muscular load. It would also help alleviate pain.
Of course, complete pain relief was impossible. Anyone who played through injury was a warrior.
After the tape was applied, Julien used the remaining ti to warm up.
"Be careful out there. I'll get you the ball when I can," De Bruyne said, knowing Julien's appearance was inevitable.
"Don't worry, I know my body," Julien replied. "You're the one who needs to be careful—playing full matches at high intensity consecutively."
"I want to win," De Bruyne said straightforwardly.
Julien looked into his eyes and smiled. "What a coincidence—so do I."
anwhile, in the Viktoria Plzen locker room, Vrba kept emphasizing to his players: "Their stamina is the big problem. We must press forward more to impact their defensive line, play more balls behind them, make them run. A few more tis like that, and we'll have our chances!"
He also made his usual warning, "Of course, watch out for Bastia potentially bringing on their wide attacking core player, Julien. Though everyone says he's injured and can't play, we can't rule out him coming on as a substitute in this situation. So be careful—if he enters, mark him tightly!"
Vrba still wasn't satisfied. He pulled out the tactics board, continuously explaining the second-half formation, attacking patterns, and more to his players.
The halfti break ended quickly.
________________________________________________________
Check out my patreon where you can read more chapters:
patreon/LorianFiction
Thanks for your support!
User Comments
0 comments from readers