June 18th, 9:00 PM, South Korea ti.
The local temperature was 27 degrees Celsius, wind speed was 1.2 ters per second, and humidity was at 59%—perfect conditions for a match.
Massive floodlights illuminated the entire Daejeon World Cup Stadium.
The stadium, which could hold over 42,000 spectators, was packed to capacity. It had transford into a sea of red, and a colossal South Korean flag was prominently displayed in the main stand.
They cheered wildly, singing their national anthem in perfect unison.
Even greater cheers drifted in from outside the stadium.
Nearly a hundred thousand more South Korean fans had gathered there.
In the main stand, the President of South Korea and Football Association chairman Zheng ngjun were both present to cheer on the South Korea Team.
41st minute.
The once-raucous stadium fell as silent as a tomb in an instant.
United States Team’s core midfielder, Reina, initiated an attack. Winger Donovan didn’t trap the ball; instead, he perford a "Maradona spin" mid-sprint, blowing past fullback Song Zongguo and charging straight for the penalty area.
For this match, South Korean manager Hiddink had fielded an attack-oriented 3-4-3 formation.
They wanted to solve their problems with offense, which left the South Korea Team’s backline relatively exposed. Now, Donovan had seized his chance.
With a flick of his foot, the ball sailed over the defenders’ heads, heading straight for McBride.
It was a perfect cross. McBride leaped high and headed the ball toward the goal.
It’s in!
After 40 minutes of silence, the United States Team was the first to break the deadlock, taking a 1-0 lead.
The United States Team’s bench erupted in celebration. Alina raised his arms, excitedly running in circles on the spot.
The substitute players were just as excited. The 100,000 bonus was already in the bag. If they unexpectedly made it to the quarterfinals, the prize money would double.
Clapping, Chen Yu turned to Heskey beside him and said, "Are we really this good?"
The South Korea Team had finished first in Group D, yet the United States Team was the one to score first.
To be honest, before the World Cup, Chen Yu had really thought the United States Team was just there to make an appearance in the group stage—the "it’s the taking part that counts" level.
Who would have thought that they would co this far, nearly finishing first in their group and now on the verge of making it to the quarterfinals?
’Who said the United States Team sucked? They’re obviously really strong.’
This goal was a massive blow to the South Korea Team.
The South Korean fans, who had been jumping around ecstatically in the stands, were now all deflated.
In the VIP box, Zheng ngjun, who had been beaming just a mont ago, now had an ashen expression.
They had erged first from their group. Even before the goal, South Korea had been dominating the United States Team on the field. Who could have predicted the United States Team would be the first to score?
During the group stage, the South Korea Team had fought tooth and nail to secure first place and avoid Italy, one of the powerhouse favorites to win the World Cup.
In the end, they were lucky enough to hold onto first place and successfully draw the United States Team.
Although the United States Team had played impressively in the group stage, upsets weren’t exactly rare. In Zheng ngjun’s mind, the United States Team was still weak, and the South Korea Team would have no problem winning.
"Chairman," a voice ca from behind him.
It was Zheng ngjun’s assistant, Jin Xiaozhong.
"Should we..." Jin Xiaozhong said in a hushed voice.
He only said half the sentence.
But Zheng ngjun understood what he ant. He had certainly pulled so strings to get the South Korea Team out of the group stage in first place.
For this match against the United States Team, however, Zheng ngjun had planned on playing it straight.
After all, this was the United States Team.
Zheng ngjun scanned the entire stadium, then glanced at the President beside him, whose expression was grim. His gaze was filled with extre conflict.
He had never imagined that, playing normally, the South Korea Team would actually be unable to beat the United States Team.
But resorting to other ans... Zheng ngjun was afraid.
Behind him, Jin Xiaozhong continued, "Chairman, I don’t think it’s a big deal. Yes, it’s the United States Team, but Aricans don’t care about soccer at all. They don’t mind whether they win or lose. But it’s different for us."
"So I think, even if we do sothing, the United States Team won’t care afterward. Look at ’88—we cost them a gold dal, and they didn’t do anything. Anyway, they’ve already made it to the Round of 16. Before the World Cup, their head coach said in an interview that their goal was just to get out of the group stage. They’ve already achieved that goal, so they should be satisfied."
"Look, almost no reporters from the United States ca to this World Cup. That’s enough to show that the level of attention back in their country isn’t high."
Zheng ngjun waved a hand, silencing Jin Xiaozhong.
He understood the logic. Everything Jin Xiaozhong said, Zheng ngjun had already considered.
"Go ahead."
Zheng ngjun gritted his teeth and gave a slight nod.
The Aricans might not care about winning or losing, but he did. He had exhausted every sche, maneuvering left and right, even giving up a shot at the FIFA presidency. At the last mont, he’d even despicably switched sides, all to use soccer as an indirect path to political power.
The South Korea Team’s performance this year was directly tied to his future political career.
So this match, he absolutely could not lose, no matter what.
Jin Xiaozhong nodded, imdiately took out his phone, and sent a few ssages.
Halfti.
"Ti to work." Chen Yu clapped his hands, signaling for Heskey and the others to get moving.
The atmosphere in the locker room was relaxed.
Alina stood there watching Chen Yu and his group get busy, not pulling the players aside to discuss second-half tactics.
’The defensive counterattack strategy is working well enough anyway.’
After the group stage matches, Alina had long since concluded that the United States Team had two advantages. First, they were young overall, with abundant stamina and excellent physical conditioning. Paired with the protection provided by Chen Yu’s super dical team, the entire squad was incredibly healthy.
This was the foundation that allowed them to execute fast defensive counterattacks, track back quickly, and maintain a powerful impact.
Second, there were no big-na stars on the team. They were all regular guys with strong tactical discipline. You wouldn’t see a situation where a forward was asked to track back on defense and refused because he was throwing a primadonna fit.
So, sticking to these two points was enough. Tactically, it wasn’t like he had a deep bag of tricks anyway.
Seeing Chen Yu working so diligently, Alina said apologetically, "Chen, I’m afraid you’re really going to miss the championship parade this ti."
With the quarterfinals in sight, Chen Yu would have to stay until at least the 22nd.
Not only would he miss the Suns’ championship parade, but he’d also miss the Las Vegas bash organized by Old Kolangelo.
Chen Yu waved his hand dismissively. "Partying and having fun... there’ll be plenty of ti for that later."
Chen Yu didn’t really care about going to places like Las Vegas. It’s not like he was short on money; he could go whenever he wanted.
Compared to going to Las Vegas, Chen Yu was actually looking forward to showing his face at the White House again.
Right after they advanced from the group stage, the President, not wanting to be left out, first had his spokesperson congratulate the United States Team, and then announced he would host everyone at the White House after the team returned ho.
You could tell he actually cared quite a bit about the United States Team.
It was probably to boost Arican morale. After all, so much had happened in the past half-year, with the country busy stirring up trouble all over the world.
The only thing was, the date was set for the 19th, US ti.
In other words, not even the President thought the United States Team could make it to the quarterfinals. He probably assud they’d be heading ho right after today’s match.
"Good luck in the second half. Try to score one yourself," Chen Yu said, patting Donovan’s calf to signal he was done.
’This kid is pretty great.’
Coming back from the halfti break, the United States Team’s starting lineup was once again full of vigor, continuing their fierce assault on the South Korea Team.
Just as the South Korea Team considered the United States Team to be weak, in Alina’s mind, the South Korea Team was also weak, though he had no idea how they’d managed to finish first in their group.
That’s why he didn’t choose to park the bus in front of the goal after scoring. Instead, he continued to press the attack.
49th minute. Just outside the South Korea Team’s penalty area, it was Reina again. He used his back to shield the ball from South Korean midfielder Ryu Hyang-tae while observing his teammates’ movents, searching for an opening.
Ryu Hyang-tae was playing very aggressively behind him.
Just as Reina was about to release the ball, Ryu Hyang-tae suddenly surged forward, leading with his elbow, and forcefully shoved Reina aside to steal the ball and break away.
Reina let out a muffled groan as he was brutally pushed to the ground.
Ten ters away, the match referee, Byron Moreno, acted as if he hadn’t seen a thing, turning to follow the ball as it moved away.
Reina lay on the ground, clutching his ribs and writhing.
The other players couldn’t spare him a thought as they scrambled back to defend.
Alina, who was overseeing the match from the sideline, instantly flew into a rage, screaming at the fourth official that it was a foul.
The fourth official was unmoved, not even glancing his way.
It wasn’t until the United States Team intercepted the ball in their own half and kicked it out of bounds that Donovan and the others had a mont to check on Reina.
Moreno jogged over to check on Reina’s condition.
Chen Yu and Heskey rose to their feet, ready to go on the field at a mont’s notice.
"How is that not a foul?" Heskey said indignantly.
’That was definitely a dirty play.’
Fortunately, Reina had recovered and got up on his own. It looked like he was mostly okay.
Moreno made no call, simply waving his hand to signal for the match to continue.
South Korea Team to throw in.
Chen Yu sighed and sat back down.
’That player’s probably just a dirty player. There are plenty of those around.’
But just as his butt touched the bench, a trendous roar erupted from the stands.
A whistle blew at the sa ti.
"Shit, what the hell is going on!" cursed Andy Dunbar beside him.
Chen Yu quickly looked up.
He saw a player down on the grass inside the United States Team’s penalty area. It was number 21, South Korea Team’s midfielder Park Ji-sung. Beside him, Hajuk stood with his hands spread, a look of bewildernt on his face.
Moreno ran over and, without a mont’s hesitation, pointed to the spot. Penalty!
"What? A penalty!"
"What the Fack, that bastard dived!"
Everyone around Chen Yu instantly lost it.
On the field, the United States Team players were also stunned. A penalty? What kind of joke was this?
"What are you doing? How is that a penalty!" Alina furiously charged toward the fourth official, spraying spittle as he yelled.
Just now, the South Korea Team took the throw-in. After a relay pass, Park Ji-sung suddenly darted forward, changed direction after receiving the ball, and shook off his defender.
But Hajuk was still in front of him.
Alina saw it clearly. Park Ji-sung tried to dribble past Hajuk but failed. There was physical contact between them, and then Park Ji-sung threw himself to the ground.
In that instant, Alina, not being a cara, couldn’t see it perfectly clearly, but he had a strong feeling that Park Ji-sung had tripped over himself.
On the field, the disgruntled United States Team players quickly surrounded Moreno.
As captain, Reina held back his furious teammates while loudly arguing with Moreno, trying his best to explain that Hajuk hadn’t intentionally charged into Park Ji-sung and that it was a clear dive.
"That’s enough. I saw it clearly. It was a foul," Moreno said, pushing through the crowd.
Reina hurriedly blocked his path. "Can you look at the replay? How can that be a foul?"
"What do you think you’re doing!" Moreno’s expression suddenly changed. He backed away while pulling a red card directly from his pocket.
He pointed at Reina, and the whistle blew.
Red card! Sent off!
This completely stunned Reina.
’What did I even do? I didn’t curse at him, I didn’t bump into him... how did I get a red card?’
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