Toulouse, situated on the banks of the Garonne River in southwestern France, is either the fourth or fifth largest city in France.
Why "either"?
Mainly because of its competitor Bordeaux—the two cities have been arguing over the fourth position for a long ti. One has more land area, the other has a larger population. In short, neither will concede to the other.
Toulouse is called the "Pink City." Before arriving, Julien had assud it was because the city had many rose flowers. In fact, it was simply because all of Toulouse's buildings are made with red brick.
Which makes them look rose-colored.
However, using red brick isn't unique to Toulouse. From Julien's impression, many small towns south of Lyon were the sa. But Toulouse is the only major city like this. North of Lyon, closer to the German style of severity, gray tiles and black bricks are more common.
Julien arrived with the team a day early. As for impressions, besides the red brick houses, the food was probably quite good—the most distinctive being foie gras and roasted duck breast.
These were all minor details.
The most important thing was their opponent this ti: Toulouse Football Club.
This team wasn't particularly renowned in French football.
Their best modern achievent was qualifying for the 2007–08 Champions League after finishing 3rd in 2006–07.
That was it.
Currently, the only player on this team who might require attention was their midfielder, Moussa Sissoko, who had been selected for the French national team back in 2009.
He was still a national team mber now.
Overall, Toulouse's strength was average, so before the match, Bastia's players were generally optimistic about the ga.
Even Toulouse's coach said at the pre-match press conference, "We've already prepared ourselves for defeat."
However, by the evening of the 9th, when they were trailing 2-0 after 41 minutes, the Toulouse Municipal Stadium, with its thirty thousand fans, erupted in frenzied cheers—
"Allez le TFC~~~"
Even the TF1 comntator couldn't help but say, "Bastia is in poor form tonight. They seem sowhat lost. You can see the players' footsteps are heavy. Playing every three days is taking too much of a toll on them.
De Bruyne has handled the ball several tis in midfield, and my impression is that he's sluggish, his feet like lead. The defenders also look like they can't run anymore. On the wing, Angoula has been exploited several tis by Toulouse's Tabanou."
Hadzibegic also recognized the team's problem: insufficient fitness reserves.
Even a young player like De Bruyne was stumbling with the ball at his feet, let alone veterans like Rothen and Choplin.
Julien sat on the bench with Clauss still on his left and Mané, who was also being rested this match, on his right.
Mané looked at the situation on the pitch and shook his head. "I've never played a season with such high intensity."
Julien nodded.
Mané was actually one of the better-off players on the team. Players like De Bruyne, Rothen, Lukaku, and Angoula were starting almost every match, many of them playing the full ninety minutes.
Mané at least rotated with Palmieri.
De Bruyne basically had no substitute. The current Bastia didn't have anyone who could fill his position. Fighting on two fronts was indeed exhausting.
Hadzibegic saw De Bruyne's creativity in midfield, and since he was a loan player:
High EQ interpretation: given full opportunity….
Low EQ interpretation: worked to the bone....
Julien replied, "After all, the intensity is high and matches are frequent. So next year's French Cup, we'll most likely have to give up as well and focus on the league and Europa League."
Clauss beside them asked curiously, "Julien, do you think we can win a trophy? The league, or the Europa League?"
As he spoke, he denied it himself, "Forget it, there are too many strong teams in the Europa League. It's too difficult. Perhaps we should focus on the league."
Julien remained evasive.
With the current squad, he would definitely want to focus on one competition. But he knew roughly what reinforcents would co in the winter window.
Since the club had already decided to fight on multiple fronts, there was no reason to retreat!
Besides, Ligue 1's intensity wasn't that high.
Beep!!
Soon, with the referee's whistle, both sides entered halfti.
In the locker room, Bastia's players didn't show much emotion. Only the heavy breathing of the starting players could be heard.
They had just played a match three days ago and were now at an away venue, it was indeed hard to bear.
Hadzibegic saw the situation, pressed his lips together, and said, "I'll make personnel adjustnts as much as possible in the second half. We'll focus on defense first, not conceding more goals. It's only two goals; we still have a chance."
As he spoke, he emphasized how to defend against Toulouse's tactics from the first half.
After he finished, assistant coach Dominique leaned over and whispered a few words in his ear.
Hadzibegic nodded, then looked at the players. "Paris Saint-Germain's match this round just ended. They won 4-0 at ho against Évian and are currently two points ahead of us."
At these words, the players' expressions changed.
Hadzibegic's face was solemn. "I know what you're thinking, but I must emphasize one point: the league championship is never decided by a single match! The previous three consecutive defeats, and this match's loss, are all lessons—punishnts for my inadequate work!"
As he spoke, Hadzibegic suddenly apologized to the players, "I'm sorry."
"Huh?"
"Boss?"
The players all looked at Hadzibegic, appearing confused.
Hadzibegic's expression was unyielding. "I was greedy! I wanted to win every match! My words always said we were a relegation-fighting team, but I didn't truly prepare for matches with a relegation-fighting team's mindset. I ignored the team's actual conditions; I ignored your fitness problems under the congested schedule.
These should all have been the work of and the coaching staff. It's because we didn't plan properly that the team fell into its current situation!"
With that, he apologized again, "I'm sorry!"
Dominique and the other assistant coaches also apologized after hearing Hadzibegic's words.
In this mont, there was no head coach's authority, only sincere apologies.
But this actually ignited the players' fighting spirit.
They wanted to win!
They wanted to burn themselves, to play for Hadzibegic, to play for BASTIA.
Julien, the captain among them, imdiately stood up. "Coach, let play!"
He was confident he could create so opportunities for the team through his performance.
But unexpectedly, Hadzibegic firmly refused.
"No, if I just said all that, it's because I want to make so changes, but definitely not to have you fight with everything you've got this match. No, that's not my intention."
He looked intently at everyone. "Let emphasize again: the league is absolutely not decided by a single match. If we want to win the championship, we can't focus on just this one ga. After the match, I'll carefully consider how we should rotate against our upcoming opponents. You need rest."
Hearing this, the players felt warmth in their hearts.
Yes, Bastia's problem now was actually quite simple: not enough rest.
"I'm sorry!" Hadzibegic exhaled and said sorry again, opening his heart. "I must admit, I don't have experience leading a team competing for the title. Last season's Ligue 2 intensity was far less than this season's. I made wrong decisions. I wanted to win every match, but reality hit us hard—it's not realistic. The team needs to make changes."
The players stood up. "Coach."
It was the first ti they'd seen this side of Hadzibegic. In the past, he was demanding and strict in training.
But now, he was just an elder analyzing his own mistakes.
Julien stepped forward. "Right, this is just one match. We need to look further ahead to the second half of the season. Even if Paris Saint-Germain has more squad depth than us, they can't possibly win every match!
They also have the Champions League, and the Champions League competition pressure is greater than the Europa League. We have certain advantages."
Hadzibegic looked at Julien with complete appreciation in his eyes. In his heart, Julien was a natural-born captain.
Capable, with Big heart!
Most importantly, he led by example: serious in training, no scandal, actively distancing himself from the dia.
You should know that so team captains lead by example in... other ways.
There was even soone as unique as Terry: teammates' biggest fear was hearing they had been training while Terry was absent, worried about having their hos "stolen."
Julien walked to the center, extended his hand, and looked at all his teammates. "Co on."
De Bruyne and the others wiped away their sweat and stepped forward, also extending their hands.
Everyone ford a circle with their hands together, then pressed down and shouted in unison—
"FORZA BASTIA!!"
Toulouse Municipal Stadium.
The venue was now filled with fans' laughter and cheers. Seeing their team leading the league-leading Bastia by two goals at halfti made this evening feel bright.
As the players took the field, the atmosphere reached another peak, with applause and cheers never ceasing.
In the corner of the stadium, in the away section, Modoso was also leading Bastia fans in tirelessly shouting "Bastia," even though they were drowned out by Toulouse's sea of noise, even though no one was listening.
They persisted!
On the way to the bench, Julien was still talking to Hadzibegic. "Coach, let play. Have them defend; I'll attack!"
Hadzibegic patted his shoulder. "I know you want to win, but you should know that even if you go on, it'll be hard to have teammates support you. You'll most likely face their entire defensive line alone, and they're ahead—they won't give you much space."
"I know, but I need to play. I'm the captain. I can't just sit on the bench when the team faces a crisis like this. I can accept losing, but I don't accept losing this way."
Julien's gaze was extrely firm.
As he said, he accepted losing—after all, what football team never loses? Never losing is mythology, not football.
But he couldn't accept sitting on the sidelines watching his team lose!
Beep!!
At this mont, the whistle blew and the second half continued.
Hadzibegic nodded. "Get ready."
Julien smiled. "Yes!"
The mont when Julien and Hadzibegic were communicating on the sideline was also captured by the broadcast caras.
The TF1 comntator said, "I wonder if Hadzibegic is explaining tactics to De Rocca for when he cos on. Not starting him, this match was indeed sowhat surprising, but as Hadzibegic himself said, De Rocca needs rest. He's only just turned eighteen. Players his age play at most thirty matches a year, and those are all youth team matches."
But when discussing this match's result, he said, "For Bastia to co back away from ho would be too difficult."
Sunset Café Bar.
Bastia fans sat together; their eyes always filled with expectation.
Drink after drink went down, shouts of "FORZA BASTIA" echoed throughout the bar, even drifting outside to rge with the waves of sound from other bars along the entire street.
Everyone was cheering for the team!
On the pitch, Bastia players' condition improved sowhat, but only ntally, the physical fatigue couldn't be hidden.
Toulouse, as expected, began to control possession and slow the tempo, no longer attacking aggressively.
Ti ticked away minute by minute.
Julien and his teammates stood and ward up on the sideline. Seeing his figure, hope ignited in the eyes of all Bastia fans.
They hadn't lost yet, they still had Julien!
Whoosh!
Suddenly, the Toulouse Municipal Stadium erupted with gasps. In Bastia's hard-earned attack, De Bruyne combined with Rothen and then took a long-range shot from the edge of the box.
The ball headed straight for the corner of the goal, but the shot wasn't particularly fast, and the opposing goalkeeper Ahamada had a good view, and imdiately judged De Bruyne's shooting direction.
He saved it.
De Bruyne lifted the hem of his shirt over his head, and looked very unwilling.
He was naturally competitive.
This was also why he got along so well with Julien and why they were so close because he could sense that beneath Julien's gentle exterior was a heart equally devoted to the pursuit of victory.
Bastia's corner kick.
Beep!
The referee blew his whistle, pointing to the sideline, pausing the match to signal a Bastia substitution.
Ilan ca off.
Julien ca on!
"Julien!"
"Julien!!"
In the away section, Bastia fans shouted Julien's na with all their might.
They saw hope!
Julien hugged Ilan, tapped his toes on the sideline, and walked toward the attacking half.
He made gestures to his teammates, communicating positions.
De Bruyne at the corner flag saw Julien co on and gained so confidence.
Just two goals, still half an hour left, still a chance.
Beep!
The referee blew the whistle again, signaling Bastia to take the kick.
Bang!
De Bruyne took his run-up and curled the ball into the center of the box.
Players from both sides jumped.
Soone in the crowd touched the ball, slowing its speed and changing its direction toward the edge of the box.
Julien stood at the top of the arc. Beside him, the opposing defender Regattin was marking him, but Julien's sudden burst caught him off guard, he couldn't keep up.
One step slow, every step slow.
Julien charged forward, and without stopping the falling ball, he volleyed it directly.
Bang!
This was his first touch after coming on!
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