"Sotu kept shaking his head and motioned for the stretcher to take Lu Yang away."
"Lu Yang was extrely agitated; he pushed away the stretcher, threw away the blood-stopping cotton in his hand, and roared at Sotu!"
On the sidelines, both the substitutes’ bench of Tulis and San Remo were stunned by the scene unfolding before them.
Where Maniero and his crew were seated was very close to the substitutes’ bench, allowing them to see and hear the unbelievable things happening clearly.
"Let stay!"
"I still want to play!"
"I don’t want to lose this ga!"
Lu Yang clenched his fists tightly, blood continuously streaming from the corner of his eye, covering half of his cheek!
Sotu was shaken.
"Believe in just like the first ga, I can still fight! I must continue to fight!" Lu Yang looked firmly at Sotu, his gaze at this mont sent shivers down Sotu’s spine.
Sotu felt as though he was in a different world.
He had seen such a gaze before.
Fourteen years ago, he and Maniero were regretfully defeated by the Netherlands Team in the European Cup semifinals. At that ti, their striker had this kind of look in his eyes.
Because that was the last European Cup before the opponent retired, he never got the chance to redeem his regrets.
Twelve years ago, in the World Cup quarterfinals, the Italy Team t the Netherlands again, defeating them through a penalty shootout, successfully advancing, and eventually winning that World Cup.
For Maniero and Sotu, besides the mont of holding the cup, the most exciting mont of that World Cup was the penalty shootout against the Netherlands.
Especially when Maniero took the last penalty to decide the outco; his eyes were exactly the sa as Lu Yang’s at this very mont.
If he missed, it would have been the last battle for that year’s Italy Team in the World Cup, as well as the last for Maniero and Sotu. Their bodies couldn’t wait another four years.
Ten years ago, Maniero and Sotu led the Italy Team in their last European Cup, entering the final after sixteen years for the first ti.
But in the last stages of that match, when trailing two to zero, the Italy Team seed possessed, and at that ti, the eyes of Maniero and Sotu had the sa look.
They knew they would never have another European Cup to compete in; that was their last big tournant match.
They were unwilling; they truly did not want to lose!
At this mont, Lu Yang had the sa desperate and determined look in his eyes.
This was not the last match of his career, but Lu Yang treated it as his last match.
If Sotu ever wondered what made Lu Yang so unique, even outshining talents like Morici, Vedian, and so top youth players in Serie B and Serie A... Now Sotu finally found the answer.
Perhaps it’s because, in Lu Yang’s eyes, football is different from how others see it.
In his heart, he holds a belief in football that is uniquely his.
And a person with belief is invincible!
"Your wound needs treatnt!" Sotu conceded; in fact, San Remo couldn’t find a player to substitute at Lu Yang’s level, nor even anyone with starting capability.
"Team doctor! I give you three minutes! You must help treat this wound!" Lu Yang turned to look at the team doctor beside him.
"This... but..." The team doctor was dumbfounded.
Seeing Lu Yang’s gaze, the team doctor couldn’t say a word of refusal.
The eyes filled with longing for the match, football, and victory made the team doctor shiver, yet gave rise to deep respect from the bottom of his heart.
This perhaps is soone who truly puts their heart and soul into the match.
As long as the ga isn’t over, he will never admit defeat!
Even if the current score is a one-to-three deficit!
"It will hurt a lot!" the team doctor took out his dical kit.
"It doesn’t matter!" Lu Yang imdiately turned and shouted to his teammates on the field, "Three minutes, hold on for three minutes, after three minutes, I will co back and fight with you! We will surely win, believe !"
Morici wiped his tears and shouted loudly: "What makes you say that? Without you, we can also win!"
He wanted Lu Yang to seek dical treatnt, worried about Lu Yang’s body.
"No, I have seen this match! We will win this ga, I will bring you victory!" After Lu Yang finished speaking, the team doctor started stitching right there on the sideline.
No anesthesia, just direct stitching, the level of pain was unbearable. The on-site cara quickly moved away after briefly recording it, even the director couldn’t bear the sensation of pain.
Lu Yang clenched his fists tightly, feeling everything.
But he had to endure.
He wanted to play, he wanted to compete!
"Lu Yang! Lu Yang! Lu Yang!"
In the stands, San Remo’s fans chanted Lu Yang’s na.
They didn’t know whether the team should substitute Lu Yang at this ti, but they knew Lu Yang definitely wanted to hear their supportive voices.
In the city of San Remo, only the na Lu Yang echoed in the air at this mont.
Sofia covered her face, tears had long breached, she tightly grasped Lu Yang’s jersey, watching him receive stitches directly on the sidelines, unable to utter a word.
But from this mont on, her heart could no longer accommodate anyone but him.
Yes, he was only sixteen, but he was the most resilient and responsible man in the world!
...
Beep!
The referee resud the ga.
On the field, the ten-man San Remo was inspired with imnse courage.
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