"Janu’s pass! Sheffield United has penetrated Portsmouth’s defense, their left-wing defense today is a ss; this is why they conceded the last goal!
"Ma’el is carrying the ball! He’s in, can he make the shot?!"
The Sky Sports comntator stands up with the fans to observe the field situation, "The best way is to use the instep to push the ball for a close-range shot, making sure the ball rolls steadily into the far corner.
"But when it cos to Ma’el, you can never be sure; we all know he likes the heavy artillery approach!"
Just as he finished this sentence, Ma’el expertly made a small lateral step with the ball, stretching his body to prepare a shot.
No push shot!
The windup has already indicated to everyone that he’s going to shoot at the goal!
"A violent strike! Ashdang couldn’t do anything, the ball is in!! Three to zero, Ma’el scores his second goal today!!
"He’s playing brilliantly; from him, I can almost see the style of Batistuta, an iconic ’Bati’ goal!!
"He’s so close; he really dares to shoot! Truly courageous!!"
On the soccer field, as Ma’el firmly nailed the ball into the side netting, the scene heated up once more.
"Yeah.....!" The cries of the fans echo to the sky; more people stand up to celebrate, Garrispeed even threw a three-punch combo on the sidelines.
However, unexpectedly, Michael Brown, just catching up, pretended he couldn’t stop himself and crashed heavily into Ma’el from behind.
Ma’el hadn’t anticipated this; he was thinking about his celebration when suddenly he was hit.
His body uncontrollably fell forward, and the joy and excitent of scoring twice instantly turned to anger.
There was no need to look; he could tell by instinct who had hit him.
With a push from the ground, he quickly stood up, turning to walk directly toward Michael Brown.
Not considering whether he had any cards left, since Michael Brown didn’t care, neither would he.
"Go back to your mother’s womb, you old eel!"
He poured all his strength into a push towards Michael Brown, who staggered a few steps defensively, "You’re not much of a man, are you? If you had a shred of decency, you wouldn’t be the field’s disgrace!"
Soon soone ca to pull him away, trying to take him from the scene; he didn’t mind at first, still rushing towards Michael Brown.
Until he saw Gilbert coming to pull him as well, seeing the heaviness and resentnt deep in his eyes, his gaze was diverted.
"Gilbert, just play ball."
Ma’el worried that Gilbert would retaliate later, bearing the risk of a suspension, "The greater the price paid for such a scoundrel, the less necessary it is; we will be the victors."
The main referee blew his whistle to prevent the situation from escalating, and the linesman near rushed onto the field.
Michael Brown started playing dumb, posing as innocent, hands spreading, standing in place without arguing with anyone.
"Give him a yellow card, or I will definitely appeal to The English FA!"
Garrispeed shouted indignantly on the sidelines, almost rushing onto the field, "Wait for the suspension notice!"
The fans also realized sothing was off, slowly stopped cheering, replaced it with boos and insults, thousands of arms pointing at Michael Brown and the main referee.
You could clearly see the pressure and hesitation on the main referee’s face.
He approached Michael Brown several tis, approached Ma’el, but didn’t produce a card.
By the ti the best mont to card had passed, he walked to the center circle, offering a silent final decision.
"Hey! Hey!!"
The dissatisfaction on the scene almost drowned the entire stadium, and Garrispeed’s complaints vanished into the clamor, people could only see him waving and yelling angrily.
No further action followed, and thus the conflict ended.
A calr Ma’el stood to the left of the center circle arc, occasionally glancing at Michael Brown.
No, he wasn’t calm, the matter, to him, wasn’t over yet.
......
"Whistle!"
When the main referee blew the whistle to start the match again, as Portsmouth’s forward sent out the center circle ball,
Ma’el clearly noticed that Gilbert charged forward with unusual speed, crossing the midfield, rushing into the attack zone.
"Bang!" At this ti, Portsmouth’s full-back sent a ball to Michael Brown, who turned to receive it, in observation.
Gilbert suddenly accelerated, the target very clear, not the ball under Brown’s feet, but Brown himself.
Ma’el’s eyes widened, knowing what was about to happen there, he took in a breath, ready to shout, but didn’t have ti as Gilbert already made his move.
"Slash!" This was a very aggressive scissor-leg slide, Gilbert’s legs clamping fiercely at Brown’s leg, whose instinctive reaction almost had him airborne.
When Brown landed again, he felt a sharp pain at his ankle, his entire foot losing feeling.
"Ah!" The wail echoed throughout the stadium, the recent ’tough guy’ hugging his ankle, in agony, nearly in tears.
Ma’el stood frozen in place, even forgetting to breathe, the whole stadium fell into a second or two of silence.
"Whistle!!" The main referee’s whistle sounded extrely piercing, and only then did the people realize what had just happened.
"Oh.....!" So held their heads, shocked at Gilbert’s choice.
"Good tackle!" So gritted their teeth, pointing at Brown while praising Gilbert.
"That’s not a red card action!" Others pleaded early for Gilbert, frantically waving their hands.
Portsmouth’s dics entered the field swiftly, their players surrounded Michael Brown, asking about his condition.
Sheffield United players surrounded the referee, advising him not to bring out a red card, insisting Gilbert didn’t an it.
But whether intentional or not, it was clear to anyone.
"You, off the field!"
The main referee finally took out the red card without hesitation, determining Gilbert was out straight red, "Wait for The English FA’s investigation and ruling."
Gilbert had anticipated this; from the mont he stood up, he didn’t plan to stay on the field, turning directly to walk down the player’s tunnel.
Disrupting the brother’s celebration, stirring trouble?
He had to tackle him.
This event started because of him, and it ended because of him.
He walked off gracefully, without looking back, or speaking to anyone.
Michael Brown was eventually carried off on a stretcher, and Portsmouth substituted a midfield player.
At this mont, out of protection purposes, Garrispeed directly substituted Ma’el.
"I want to go back to the locker room to see him."
Ma’el requested from Garrispeed, and with permission, he walked back to the locker room early through the player’s tunnel.
Gilbert sat alone in the corner, taking off his shoes, beaming a smile when he saw him enter: "Do you want to say I was impulsive? Or that I was unprofessional and ruined soone’s career?
"I don’t think so; if he stayed on, both of us were at risk. If I got injured, it’s fine, but if you got injured because of this, or you retaliated and got suspended, I would’ve felt much worse."
He spoke his prepared words, hoping for Ma’el’s approval of his actions.
But Ma’el shook his head, walking over to sit beside him, "I didn’t think of saying those things; if I must evaluate.... I’d say you were pretty damn cool just now."
Pretty damn cool?
Gilbert lifted his head, smiling.
Ma’el placed a hand on his shoulder, calmly waiting for the match to end.
After that tackle, the relationship between the two changed, entering a new phase.
...
ps: Ten Hach’s post-match comnts were groundbreaking.
User Comments
0 comments from readers