Chapter 1 The Godfather of Champions

Facing Fiorentina's successive attacks, Mourinho could no longer sit on the coach's bench pretending to be cool. Taking advantage of Fiorentina's corner kick opportunity, he rushed to the sidelines and shouted, "What are you doing?! Who told you to pass the ball so much in the midfield? Forward! Forward! Pass forward as soon as you get the ball!"

They had agreed before the game to reduce the time spent holding the ball in the midfield and to pass the ball out as quickly as possible. But as soon as the game started, they forgot what he said. How could Mourinho not be angry? Moreover, they almost conceded a goal twice.

If they conceded a goal so quickly, his tactics would be rendered useless.

They absolutely couldn't concede a goal so early!

As Fiorentina prepared to take the corner kick, Mourinho paced anxiously on the sidelines. Only when Čech firmly caught the ball in his arms did he breathe a sigh of relief, then returned to his seat and continued chewing his gum.

Sabbato seemed very relaxed from beginning to end.

The good start gave him a good omen and filled him with hope for the game.

As he expected, Chelsea clearly didn't expect Fiorentina to launch an attack right from the start, taking the initiative on the road.

Before the game, Mourinho had predicted that Fiorentina would start cautiously away from home and then look for opportunities using defensive counterattacks, just like in the game against Barcelona.

He didn't expect Sabbato to be so crazy as to steal the show from his home team on his own turf. He wanted to get the team back on track, but unfortunately, Fiorentina's fierce attack meant that Chelsea's players were not in the mood to listen to his yelling from the sidelines.

All they could think about now was: How can we survive this Fiorentina attack?

Mascherano and Donadel's double defensive midfielders were very effective because they completely contained Lampard's power and cut off the connection between Chelsea's midfield and forwards, making it impossible for Chelsea to organize effective attacks. They often had to rely on individual abilities.

Fiorentina's interference had long caused them to forget their original tactics.

Long passes, quick passes, speed to victory... None of it worked. Chelsea had been led by the nose by Fiorentina and could only follow Fiorentina's rhythm.

This won't do, Mourinho thought, and stood up from his seat again. He planned to yell a few times in the London rain to remind his players.

But before he could open his mouth, he heard a loud shout: "Attack! Attack! Suppress them for me! Put more effort in!! Come on! Come on, baby! Oh yeah!!"

It was perfect Italian-style English, and utterly embarrassing. There was no need to ask who the voice belonged to, it was definitely Sabbato.

The energy Mourinho had managed to muster was disrupted by Sabbato, and it dissipated. He looked at Sabbato, who was smiling and nodding at him.

Shit! That bastard is doing it on purpose!

The London rain beat on the faces of the Chelsea fans, making them feel cold. Who would have thought that their highly anticipated home team wouldn't have a single shot on goal in the first fifteen minutes!

Fiorentina's tactics were actually very simple: disrupt the opponent's tactics, and while disrupting the opponent's attack, look for opportunities to "organize" an attack—or rather, while disrupting the opponent's attack, incidentally, if they were lucky, launch a counterattack...

Sabbato didn't plan to fight Chelsea to the death according to the things in those coaching textbooks. Since Mourinho had made small moves before the game, he couldn't blame him for playing dirty during the game.

He just wanted to wrestle with his opponent in the mud, like two opponents rolling around together. No one could tell what they were hitting, they were just hitting. The more chaotic the situation, the better, so he could muddle through.

Since Mourinho wanted to upgrade to "Godfather," he definitely wouldn't bother using this kind of tactic to entangle with him. He would honestly be a street hooligan, anything others disdained to use or didn't think of, he could use, as long as he could win the game.

Chelsea's first shot appeared in the nineteenth minute of the first half. Drogba stumbled through Kehl's defense, then hurriedly shot, but the ball went high over the crossbar and into the stands behind the goal.

The Fiorentina fans who came to watch the game at the stadium laughed wantonly, which made the Chelsea fans next to them very unhappy and the police responsible for security very nervous. All possibilities had been considered before the game, so several rows of seats were deliberately left empty between the stands of the two sides, but even if there was a block between them, it wouldn't stop a conflict from happening.

The condition of the Stamford Bridge pitch was really bad. Zhang Jun didn't dare to make many moves, fearing that he would sprain his ankle before the World Cup. There were quite a few people who thought the same way as him. Sadly, even some of the Chelsea players thought so.

Mourinho didn't expect to shoot himself in the foot. He wanted to contain Fiorentina, but he ended up binding his own hands and feet.

Hua Jin sent out a ball, and Zhang Jun planned to sprint to chase it, but as soon as he started, he suddenly felt that he had stepped on a protruding object. He quickly retracted his strength and looked down. Luckily, it was a clod of grass. If he had kicked out with force just now, his supporting foot would definitely have sprained because the foothold was too small.

But not everyone thought like Zhang Jun. For example, Kroul.

He didn't seem to care about the quality of the pitch, or maybe he was too familiar with this pitch. Whether the pitch was good or bad, he had run countless kilometers on it.

Turn, receive the ball, a feint, and then a pull!

The ball bounced a bit, but it didn't matter. Kroul pressed the ball down hard, and the ball obediently stopped on the ground, then passed it out again.

After such a set of movements, Chelsea's Diarra couldn't touch the ball at all. Unless he kicked Kroul down, he wouldn't be able to steal the ball from Kroul's feet.

It didn't matter that the ball was bouncing. He wanted to make the ball move more irregularly so that the opponent couldn't capture his intentions at all.

In Italy, Kroul was called by the Italian media: "Dribbling like a ghost, passing weirdly unmatched." Because sometimes even the teammates in Fiorentina didn't understand Kroul's passing intentions. Maybe only Zhang Jun could understand him.

Kroul must have had this idea in his heart. Why was he willing to stay in Fiorentina? It wasn't because Ren Yudi gave him a high salary, nor was it because the atmosphere of this team was so good, but because as an attacking midfielder, it was so happy to have a forward teammate who could receive his passes.

Mascherano gave a direct pass. Kroul originally planned to stop it, but unexpectedly, when it was about to reach him, the ball suddenly bounced up, making his previous preparations useless.

Diarra knew this was a good opportunity, and he didn't hesitate to lean in, planning to poke the ball away from Kroul's side.

Kroul was clever. He saw Diarra's action and understood the other party's intention. He didn't dodge, but gently picked the ball up with his left foot, and the ball jumped up along his instep!

How could Diarra have expected Kroul to change his receiving action in an instant? He stretched out his foot and didn't touch anything.

Immediately afterward, Kroul turned his body slightly, leaning Diarra behind him, and then gently padded the ball with his chest.

At the same time, Ruben also rushed back to help Diarra defend this troublesome guy.

Seeing Diarra "entangled" Kroul, he thought there would be a chance, so he rushed up without hesitation, just waiting for the ball to fall down so he could intercept it.

Wasn't the ground uneven? Wasn't the ball bouncing around, unable to find its direction?

Simple, just don't let the ball land!

The ball fell from the air, and Ruben was ready.

Unexpectedly, Kroul used his thigh to bounce the ball up again, and Ruben's foot missed. Ruben naturally wouldn't be willing to be passed by Kroul like this, so he jumped up and stretched his foot to kick the ball again.

Kroul leaned back, lifted the ball over Ruben's head, and then leaned hard on Diarra.

The French kid was also a tough guy, and he didn't give in, but he also helped Kroul, allowing him to find a support point to adjust his center of gravity.

This time, Diarra even used his hands, grabbing Kroul's neck, hoping to limit Kroul's movement. Unexpectedly, Kroul didn't buy it at all. He leaned on Diarra, and then used his chest to pad the ball back again. Then he stuck his butt out, squeezed Diarra to the side, and then tipped his toes, lifting the falling ball up again, just dodging Ruben's counterattack.

This series of actions made the audience fascinated.

Some Chelsea fans even thought they were watching Kroul's debut game—he almost single-handedly teased Vieira like this back then. Unexpectedly, now it had become him teasing two Chelsea players.

"Stop him!" some fans shouted loudly, and then more people began to roar, "Stop him! Foul!"

Facing two people's double-teaming, he still maintained control of the ball, and from beginning to end, the ball didn't touch the ground. What amazing technique and ball control! Kroul did it, and on his former stage, he made all the Chelsea fans feel nervous.

Dodging Ruben, Kroul still used his thigh to pad the ball in place, continuing to control the ball. Diarra refused to admit defeat and rushed up again. Kroul was also happy to see him and once again lifted the ball over his head, he staggered a step and fell out.

Ruben alone was not enough to be afraid of. Kroul lifted the ball up and caught it with his shoulder in a provocative manner, then turned around, letting the ball roll along his shoulder from left to right, and then fall down. Kroul, who was already facing the direction of attack, immediately used his right foot to lift the ball up and send it out.

Naturally, it was Zhang Jun who received the ball. Terry had been closely marking Zhang Jun, just not letting him have the opportunity to comfortably receive the pass from midfield.

So when Kroul passed the ball out, Terry kept bumping into Zhang Jun, preventing him from stabilizing his center of gravity to receive the ball.

He thought that this would resolve Fiorentina's attack, but he was obviously wrong.

Zhang Jun was bumped by Terry and had to run forward. At the moment the ball came over, he suddenly stopped and then suddenly turned around, bypassing Terry!

This made Terry confused. What was he going to do? Give up the ball? What did he want to do…

When Zhang Jun removed the body blocking in front of him, he suddenly realized that Kroul's pass was very high, yes, very high, even if he jumped now, he wouldn't be able to reach the ball. He finally understood why Zhang Jun suddenly turned and ran, that damn kid didn't intend to receive the ball here at all, his goal was the goal!

Terrified, Terry turned around and pounced on Zhang Jun.

Zhang Jun could feel the pressure Terry was putting on him from behind. He didn't expect that his and Kroul's tacit understanding could only deceive the other party for a moment, and still couldn't completely shake off this tagalong.

But it didn't matter, even a moment was enough for him.

Because he didn't intend to stop the ball at all, but to shoot directly!

The ball fell down perfectly from behind. Zhang Jun took a big step, adjusted his steps, and then reached out to block Terry behind him. Then, coordinating with his running pace, when the ball flew over, he kicked it directly into the air!

Čech flew to block the near corner of the goal, but the ball went slightly wide of the post and slammed hard into the advertising board behind the goal, making a bang.

People didn't care about this shot, but about Kroul's series of actions before. The big screen on the scene was playing it, and the TV broadcast was also playing it.

Watching the ball jump around in front of Kroul like an elf, while Ruben and Diarra had no way to deal with him, the commentator kept exclaiming, "Tsk tsk! This is technique! Look, the ball is like it's tied to Kroul's feet with a string. Neither Ruben nor Diarra can intercept the ball from his feet! He used his excellent performance to slap the Chelsea fans in the face!"

"Perfect! Too perfect! Other than that, I don't know what words to use to describe this genius-like performance!"

Zhang Jun felt a little apologetic for shooting the ball wide. He gave Kroul a thumbs up, praising his beautiful pass. But Kroul just shrugged his shoulders and didn't take it seriously. To him, he didn't think his performance just now was so earth-shattering. When he was in the Chelsea youth team, he often played like this. In usual training, he regarded this kind of action as a warm-up action, the simplest of the simple. After all, for a player with superb skills, juggling the ball was the most common action.

But in the eyes of outsiders, the things in usual training can be perfectly displayed on the field, which in itself is very remarkable.

Mourinho looked at it on the sidelines and just wanted to smile bitterly—the camera was always staring at him, and he couldn't have any facial expressions. The sharp sword he had painstakingly cultivated almost stabbed his vitals.

His team had completely fallen into Fiorentina's rhythm. Not only did they have no offensive achievements in the first half, but their defense was also full of loopholes, and Zhang Jun repeatedly used his speed to tear through their defense.

With Kroul's great activity, this game didn't seem as optimistic as he had initially imagined.

The scene was too chaotic, and his midfielders couldn't find their forward teammates when they passed the ball forward. Although the two forwards could distract Fiorentina's defensive attention, they also distracted their midfield organization. In terms of actual effect, judging from these few minutes, it was not as useful as Fiorentina's single forward.

He decided to make adjustments during the halftime break. He replaced the old and weak Drogba and left the young and strong Lawrence on the field.

But before he could continue to think about his second-half tactics, Fiorentina launched another raid.

Bonera made a long pass, sending the ball directly from the backfield to the frontfield. Zhang Jun jumped high and headed the ball back in front of Diarra, the target being Kroul, who was running up.

Since Kroul publicly teased Ruben and Diarra, as long as he got the ball, the boos from Stamford Bridge would be overwhelming. It was very similar to how they felt when they went to the Camp Nou in the previous round, except the target of the boos had changed from Zhang Jun to Kroul.

Facing the aerial ball Zhang Jun headed back, Kroul didn't stop and use his feet to stop the ball, but instead used his chest to knock the ball forward and then broke through.

Diarra followed Zhang Jun, and Lampard naturally took on the responsibility of stopping Kroul from continuing to break through.

He reached out to grab Kroul. Facing his former teammate, he was not polite at all. Who told Kroul to be so threatening? If he didn't use his hands, he might not have any hope of success. Lampard was even prepared to foul if necessary.

He didn't hate Kroul. He knew Kroul's background, so he could say he even felt a little sympathy for Kroul. But now it was a Champions League game, and they were fighting for their respective teams, so they naturally had to compete against each other.

Kroul could feel Lampard's hands grabbing his shoulders, because he couldn't run.

Since he couldn't break through with force, he could only rely on his personal skills.

Kroul originally intended to pass the ball out, but when he looked up, he saw that Zhang Jun was double-teamed by Terry and Diarra. If he passed it out rashly, he would definitely lose the ball. And Lampard didn't give him so much time to find other people.

Seeing Kroul look up to find someone, he knew that it was time to intercept the ball, so he tightened his feet and poked at the ball.

Kroul felt the danger, but he didn't lower his head to find where the danger came from. Instead, he followed Lampard's footwork and pushed the ball to the outside with his foot, making the other party miss.

Lampard staggered, but the hand he was holding onto Kroul's clothes didn't let go, so he barely maintained his balance and didn't fall out—the ground was too slippery.

Kroul's body was stopped by him and he couldn't continue to break through. In fact, when Lampard stopped his body, he originally wanted to fall down, just like he had done countless times in the past, using the rules to reasonably earn a free kick in the frontcourt for the team, and this position was very suitable for Zhang Jun's direct free kick.

But after a moment, he changed his mind. He suddenly didn't want to always rely on these little tricks to win the game. He wanted to win the opponent head-on in a confrontation.

So he used force with his feet and straightened his upper body, barely stabilizing his figure. Then he ran forward, stumbling, squeezed by Lampard. The ball was still at his feet, and Lampard let go of his hand—if he didn't let go, he would be called for a foul—and started intercepting Kroul again.

Huth also rushed over from the opposite side, hoping to intercept him head-on.

Chelsea fans must have believed that with two Chelsea players blocking in front and chasing from behind, even if Kroul had wings, he wouldn't be able to run out successfully.

But they were wrong.

Facing the tall and burly Huth, but with an unstable center of gravity, Kroul used a simple bicycle kick to shake Huth so that he couldn't tell which direction was which. He also knew that it wouldn't work to shake him like this, so he simply tackled Kroul, trying to stop his shot.

Just as he tackled, Kroul gently pushed the ball to the outside, just dodging Huth's foot. At the same time, Lampard couldn't dodge and was tripped by the fallen Huth, falling to the ground.

In an instant, he got rid of two defensive players, and Kroul had already entered the penalty area.

Boos erupted!

Čech decided to abandon the goal and attack. As a teammate, he knew that Kroul's shooting skills were not inferior to those of a forward.

Just as he took two steps out, Kroul shot with a small angle!

The shooting action was very large, and it looked like the shot would be very powerful, and the chance of shooting an aerial ball in a running shot was the greatest.

Čech's body jumped up, but he found that the ball didn't appear in the position he expected, but rolled quickly towards his legs along the grass!

He hurriedly sank. At this time, he couldn't care about the technical action. Even if he sat down on his butt, as long as he could sit on the ball, he would be willing.

British scientists had long proved through calculations and analysis that: the speed of a soccer ball rolling forward along the ground is greater than the speed of a person's center of gravity shifting downward.

So Kroul's ball passed through his legs in front of Čech's butt and rolled directly into the goal behind him!

The grass in front of the goal that had long been trampled into mud also couldn't slow down the ball, which shows how powerful the shot was!

In the thirty-fourth minute of the first half, Fiorentina took a 1-0 lead!

"Oh yes!! Kroul Lee! He scored against his former club, a beautiful solo performance! Fiorentina has tied the aggregate score to 2-1! They are now leading Chelsea!"

After scoring, Kroul ignored Zhang Jun's intention to come up and celebrate, ran directly to the back of the goal, under the stands of the Chelsea fans, and kicked the advertising board. Then he kicked, kicked, kicked. He only stopped after kicking three times with all his strength. Looking at the blue Chelsea fans in the stands, he raised his head provocatively.

Although he didn't say anything throughout the entire process, the meaning was already very clear: Come on, don't you hate me? I'm standing here, scoring your goals. If you have the ability, come down! If you can't come down, just watch, watch me slap you in the face with goals!

What was Kroul's answer?

Boos and countless middle fingers.

But Kroul didn't care, grinned, then turned around and hugged the excited Zhang Jun.

Seeing Kroul score, the happiest person was not Zhang Jun, nor his other teammates, but Sabbato on the sidelines. He jumped three feet high, as excited as if he had scored the goal.

The same was true for Fiorentina's coaching staff and substitute players. Because Kroul's goal allowed them to lead Chelsea away from home, allowing them to lead Chelsea on aggregate, and they also had an away goal. The last one was the most important. The condition that originally gave Chelsea an advantage was gone, the away goals of both sides were the same, and Fiorentina was likely to continue scoring.

Compared with the joyful atmosphere on Fiorentina's side, Chelsea's side was silent. Mourinho chewed gum with a wooden face, and the substitutes could only do nothing but hold their heads.

The members of the coaching staff put their heads together, probably discussing how to adjust the tactics during the halftime break. Now that the situation had changed, the original tactics were scrapped.

The celebration after the goal passed quickly, and the game restarted. Without Mourinho's instructions, the Chelsea players had already consciously strengthened their marking of Kroul.

Under normal circumstances, Kroul would face the double-teaming of two people, and sometimes even three people would surround him at the same time.

This made it very difficult for him to get the ball and pass the ball. But Kroul didn't care. He felt that this was attention to him, which made him more interested in playing with Chelsea.

Even if he was intercepted because of this, he didn't feel annoyed.

So Kroul attracted the attention of three Chelsea players in the midfield alone. The pressure on other Fiorentina players was suddenly reduced, such as Gasbarroni and Hua Jin.

Kroul was surrounded by Diarra and Lampard again, but he used his skills to protect the ball in the encirclement without losing it. Unless the other party fouled, they couldn't easily intercept the ball from him.

After attracting two defensive players, Kroul saw that Ruben, who was defending Hua Jin, was approaching him, and immediately made a straight pass, crossing the gap between the two people and sending it accurately to Hua Jin's feet.

When Hua Jin received the ball, there was no one around him, which allowed him to play freely. So this time he didn't go to the bottom and cross, but cut inside, seemingly wanting to shoot directly.

Chelsea's left back, Hono, hurriedly came up to block, but Hua Jin suddenly pulled back, then passed the ball horizontally.

The one who received the ball was Kroul who had inserted!

Without waiting for the ball to stop, Kroul volleyed with great force!

The ball drew an arc, slightly wide of the goal, but it also made the Chelsea fans break out in a cold sweat.

In this game, Kroul even had more shots than Zhang Jun in the statistics. It shows how active he was.

At the end of the first half, Fiorentina led 1-0 and had the advantage. During the halftime break, Sabbato walked back to the locker room with a smile. And Mourinho went back early with a gloomy face. The Chelsea players also lowered their heads when they left the field. They knew that they had played very poorly in the first half, and what awaited them during the halftime break was Mourinho's storm of scolding.

Kroul still heard huge boos when he left the field, especially when he approached the tunnel, the boos were even louder. In addition to the boos, there were all kinds of curses.

Zhang Jun hurried a few steps, hoping to drag Kroul away before he went crazy and gave the middle finger.

Unexpectedly, Kroul just looked up at the fans who were booing him, then smiled and shook his head, and walked into the tunnel.

Seeing Kroul's reaction, Zhang Jun was a little stunned. His hand was stretched out awkwardly in the air, and he didn't grab anything, so he had to stretch it back to scratch his head to cover it up.

Maybe the goal and the flying kick on the advertising board had already let him vent enough.

In the locker room, Sabbato kept patting Kroul's shoulder, praising him for his excellent performance in the first half. Teammates also congratulated Kroul. Kroul still accepted everyone's congratulations expressionlessly and didn't say a word of "Thank you."

But the teammates were used to Kroul's attitude, so they didn't care. Everyone was in a good mood, joking and chatting with each other. Chelsea had been completely suppressed by them, and this game was very easy.

On the other side of the Chelsea locker room, the atmosphere was not so relaxed.

Everyone lowered their heads and remained silent, because their coach Mourinho had just had a tantrum. The midfield was the one who was scolded the most. Mourinho believed that the reason why they played so badly in the first half was because the midfield couldn't control the situation. They were too weak and everything was messed up by Fiorentina's interference.

"In the second half, you must regain the initiative! If you continue to play like in the first half, we don't need to play this game. The pitch should affect them the most, not us! Pass the ball quickly, run quickly! Get the rhythm up!"

Zhang Jun sat next to Kroul, and then whispered to him: "Actually, I admired you just now."

"How?"

"Because you didn't give the middle finger to those fans, I heard very clearly, they even insulted your parents."

Kroul smiled again: "I've been tired of hearing what they scolded three years ago. If I give them the middle finger, I will be banned. That's an obvious trap, I won't be stupid enough to take the initiative to drill it. They can only scold, I have no loss. And I continue to score goals and perform well, then the one who suffers in the end is them."

After listening to Kroul's analysis, Zhang Jun had to admire him. No wonder Eriksson would say that Kroul was the most talented midfielder he had ever seen. Except for being young and impulsive when he first debuted, he is now becoming more and more calm and steady—of course, some people say that it is gloomy and depressed.

After Kroul's father just passed away, some media once exposed that Kroul had depression, which scared many Chinese fans at the time.

Unexpectedly, almost every home game, Kroul had to make a fuss with Chelsea fans, not only fighting with fans, but also fighting with opponents, fighting with referees, which was very interesting. Seeing his crazy attitude, he didn't look like someone with depression at all. Later, people regarded those media who said he had depression as farting.

Zhang Jun didn't believe that Kroul would have depression. Eccentric personality is not equal to depression. After Kroul came to Florence, he was even more convinced.

He still remembered that day when he accompanied Kroul to the sanatorium, and he saw Kroul crying with his own eyes. Even with sunglasses, he couldn't stop the tears from sliding down behind the sunglasses. Kroul was not depressed, but there was no one who could let him vent his emotions in person.

He had never seen Kroul cry, and he thought no one else had either. Who would have thought that the ruthless person on the field would have such a weak side?

Today's game was so important to Kroul. He couldn't lose, and he couldn't show weakness in front of those fans who mocked and insulted him. Therefore, he worked so hard that Zhang Jun was willing to let Kroul be the protagonist, and he would be a supporting role.

Thinking of this, Zhang Jun came back to his senses and patted Kroul: "Come on, second half."

Kroul just nodded and closed his eyes to rest.

Sabbato continued to talk endlessly in front. Kroul didn't care about this. He had a good idea about Chelsea in his heart. He also knew that Sabbato was just talking about those things, sticking to the tactics of the first half, disrupting the opponent's rhythm... If the situation was very good during the halftime break, he would probably just boost morale. Boosting morale was useless for Kroul. He didn't think he needed to boost his morale. So it was the same whether he listened or not.

When the commentators and special guests went out to have a cup of hot coffee and then returned to the studio to prepare for work, they all complained that the fifteen-minute halftime break was too short.

The players on both sides would never think so. The Fiorentina players thought the break was too long, which cooled down their bodies. And the Chelsea players also thought the time was too long, because they couldn't wait to prove themselves in the second half and defeat Fiorentina.

Everyone thought that the one who could advance to the next round of the Champions League was themselves.

The rain didn't stop, nor did it get bigger or smaller. It was the same as it was at the beginning of the game.

The players stepped onto the field in the rain.

The situation in the second half started to improve slightly. Chelsea seized several opportunities to launch threatening attacks, which made Chelsea fans see hope and start to make noise again.

First, it was Lawrence's forced breakthrough and then a shot, and then it was Lampard's long shot on the edge of the penalty area that forced Frey to make a wonderful save.

These two shots seemed to be good omens. It felt like Chelsea had gradually mastered the initiative on the field, and it was not a distant thing for them to tie the score.

But before the Chelsea fans could be happy for long, the situation changed again after Fiorentina's corner kick.

It was still the midfield that couldn't control, and was instead suppressed by the Fiorentina midfield. The forward Lawrence quickly fell into the encirclement of Fiorentina's four defenders alone, and there was nothing he could do.

Anyway, Fiorentina was now leading on aggregate. They were not in a hurry. They had the capital to pester Chelsea. Chelsea couldn't afford to spend it. If they continued to play like this without a plan, they couldn't guarantee that the team would score, and they might concede another goal.

Mourinho stood up from the coach's bench and paced anxiously in the rain.

Chelsea is now at its peak in England. The Premier League title is not stimulating for them. They have won the Premier League title and the FA Cup. In Chelsea's more than 100-year history, they have never won a Champions League title. Now the boss has money, the coach is capable, and the players are excellent, but they met a stronger Barcelona last year. This year, they originally planned to defeat all opponents and reach the top, but they met a more perverted Fiorentina than Barcelona.

Mourinho has never seen this kind of lawless and unreasonable tactical play, and he was completely suppressed by this tactic.

Originally, there was a way to break this tactic, the key was who was leading and who was behind. It was a pity that Fiorentina, as the executor of this tactic, was leading. They had more room to maneuver, while Chelsea's space was compressed to an infinitely small level, and the choice of tactics became difficult.

Seeing his team have the advantage, Sabbato also stood up from his seat, then walked to the sidelines and shouted loudly inside: "Continue to compress! Continue to apply pressure! Go up on both sides!"

The reason why he seemed a little anxious at this time was because he knew that the impact of the weather was too great. The pitch was very slippery, which made the players expend their physical strength faster than usual, so a one-goal advantage could not be considered an advantage at all. When Chelsea went to Fiorentina to play away from home, they were tied after leading by one goal. Sabbato didn't allow this situation to happen to his team. Now that his team has the advantage, they must take another point in one go and double the insurance for victory.

But things on the football field were not that you could score a goal if you wanted to. Fiorentina had the advantage, but they couldn't score again. And the situation was gradually developing in the direction that Barsato was worried about.

More than half of the second half had passed, and the players' physical strength began to be insufficient.

The balls that originally had a chance were wasted because the receiving players couldn't run.

Lawrence got the ball again and looked for a breakthrough opportunity on the wing. The one who defended him was still Jensen from the previous round.

This time, he decided to break through forcibly, and Jensen turned around and suddenly felt his foot slip. The whole person slid out horizontally. Unfortunately... he tripped Lawrence because of the loss of his center of gravity.

The referee's whistle sounded. Sabbato also became nervous. Jensen had already received a yellow card in the previous game. If he received another card, he would be sent off. He must not lose a player at this time.

Xiang Tao, who was sitting on the bench, also stood up nervously. Considering that Jensen had a greater advantage in defending Lawrence in this game, Sabbato put Xiang Tao on the bench.

Lawrence was still kneeling on the ground, and kept waving his hands at the referee to indicate that he had not fouled, it was just that the ground was too slippery.

The referee obviously regarded his explanation as an excuse after fouling. He quickly ran to the foul site, and then reached his hand into his pocket…

Yellow card!

Red card!

Two yellows turned into one red!

Jensen was sent off!

"Damn it! That idiot referee! Are his eyes on his butt?! He is doing it on purpose!" Sabbato cursed loudly on the sidelines.

And Stamford Bridge was cheering. Even Mourinho was relieved. Because he also saw that Fiorentina's physical strength was not good, and now that one player was sent off, his team had a chance to tie the score. As long as they could drag the game into overtime, they would have a great chance of winning.

Jensen was quite wronged. He really slipped accidentally, not deliberately tripping Lawrence. Then again, was it worth it for him to foul against Lawrence? The first yellow card was still for blocking Lampard on his back.

But no matter how he explained, the referee who had made a decision would not change his judgment. Zhang Jun ran up, put his arm around Jensen's neck, and comforted him: "Don't worry, go back to the locker room and take a shower, and then wait to come back and celebrate the victory." After saying that, he pushed him forward, and Jensen had no choice but to lower his head and walk off the field in frustration.

"Xiang!" Sabbato shouted murderously.

"Here!" Xiang Tao responded loudly.

"Warm up!"

The left wing of Fiorentina, who lost their left back, became Chelsea's key attacking place. Gasbarroni had completely given up the attack and retreated to temporarily play as the left back, but he was not a defender after all. Although he worked hard, the effect was average.

At this time, Xiang Tao came on the field. He replaced Gasbarroni. Before coming on the field, Sabbato called him to the sidelines for a final instruction.

Looking at Sabbato's unhappy expression, Xiang Tao also asked fiercely: "Tell me, boss. Do you want to cripple that kid's left leg or right leg?"

"Stop talking nonsense, I want you to concentrate on defense!" Sabbato roared, and Xiang Tao became much more honest. "That Lawrence likes to pull to the side, and he has no experience in fighting against you, he will definitely aim at you to break through, go up and give him a lesson to see!" Sabbato waved his fist and roared lowly.

Xiang Tao muttered in his heart: "I think you