Chapter 1

Martin Aberlani was a mixed-race player, the most refined-looking in the Colombian team. Currently playing for Monaco in Ligue 1, he was a key midfielder for the team and considered the number one star of the current Colombian national team. However, he had none of the airs of a star player, and was often even quite shy.

In contrast, his good friend and national team partner, striker John Jones, was a fiery character, a typical Native American. With brown skin and dark hair tied into braids, he liked to shake his head, making the braids swing behind him. Jones loved his braids.

Colombian football had been dormant for a long time, until two years ago, when they defeated Argentina and Brazil in the South American Youth Football Championship to win the title. A year later, they won the runner-up spot in the World Youth Football Championship, causing a yellow whirlwind in the world football scene. Aberlani performed outstandingly in that World Youth Championship, and was then spotted by Monaco. Jones, being younger, was observed by numerous European teams for a year. This World Cup was their last chance to observe this young man. If he performed well, many teams would be vying for him.

Now, Jones was in the hotel room, playing the PS4 that Aberlani had brought back from France, with the classic game "Pro Evolution Soccer," now "Pro Evolution Soccer 0910."

Jones was playing the World Cup tournament, and naturally the team he used was his home country, Colombia, whose first opponent happened to be China.

"Wow ~ why is my speed 88, acceleration 91, while Zhang's speed is 93, and acceleration is actually 97! That's so unfair!" Jones exclaimed.

Aberlani, who had just finished washing his hair in the bathroom, came over to take a look. Not only was there a difference in speed, but Zhang Jun was simply not in the same league as Jones in terms of other attributes. He patted Jones on the shoulder: "Where did I put my jacket?"

Jones casually pointed to his bed.

Aberlani put on his jacket and sat down to watch Jones play. "It's normal, he's the main striker of the Treble winners, sweeping all the individual and team honors this season, how can you compare with him?"

The game had just started when the Chinese team, relying on Yang Pan's individual skills, forced a corner kick, which was taken by their midfield maestro, Li Yongle. The corner kick was delivered, and the penalty area was in chaos, then a figure rose high, heading the ball down powerfully! The ball went in, and Colombian goalkeeper Casotti had no reaction!

"Who?" Jones asked, not skipping the player's celebration, waiting to see who scored.

The screen displayed subtitles: China, CF Zhang Jun, No. 11, 28 years old, 183cm.

"..." Jones was speechless for a long time, then turned to look at Aberlani beside him.

Aberlani shrugged: "I told you, you're not in the same class of strikers."

Jones grinned and skipped the replay, continuing the game.

The gap between his personal data and Zhang Jun's was vividly demonstrated in the game. Zhang Jun could dribble through the Colombian defense, as if there was no one there. When he habitually pulled to the right side of the field, the opponent's number 13 defender would stick close, preventing him from using his speed.

"Don't go to the right, even though you like that spot. But Xiang Tao's speed isn't much worse than yours, try attacking from the left, their left back isn't that good," Aberlani instructed him.

"Don't rush to kick the ball from the back, transition through the midfield! You don't even need me, let me get the ball and organize the attack! I can at least dribble past a few players, you're not getting any chances like this!" Watching Jones' Colombia continuously at a disadvantage, Aberlani became more and more anxious.

"Don't shout, long passes are the only way to use my ability!" Jones naturally refused to back down.

"Tackle him! Don't let him into the penalty area!"

"If I tackle from behind I'll get a red card!"

"Who cares? It's better than conceding a goal!"

Jones still pressed the tackle button, and the referee blew his whistle, pointing to the penalty spot!

"See, you idiot, you pressed it too late!"

The computer chose Zhang Jun to take the penalty.

Jones gripped the controller tightly and muttered, "Watch, watch! I'm going to save it! I'm a striker, I know which way he'll shoot..."

He did guess the direction correctly. However, Zhang Jun's shot was too precise, and the ball went into the goal off the post. Colombia trailed 0:2.

"Okay! Let me." Aberlani pushed Jones away, took the controller, and the first thing he did was pause the game, adjust the formation, and make substitutions. Jones was impatient for quick results, only arranging three people in midfield, playing a 433 formation. Aberlani changed it to 451, which was the system's default formation, and the most commonly used formation by Colombia in reality. Jones was the lone striker, with Aberlani behind him, able to organize attacks and make late runs into the box to shoot.

Two forwards were substituted for two wingers.

Soon, Colombia pulled back a goal, and it was Jones who scored. He received a through ball from Aberlani, then used his speed to shake off Li Suisheng in the middle, going one-on-one with An Ke and easily scoring.

Aberlani simply pumped his fist, while Jones spread his arms and cheered in the room.

"This is just a game, so no matter how strong the enemy's stats are, as long as we have good control and awareness, there's no computer we can't beat."

As he spoke, Jones scored another goal himself, dribbling the ball in midfield, past several Chinese defenders, and then scoring with a long shot.

"Yes! Equalized!" Jones exclaimed excitedly.

Seeing that the game was stabilizing, Jones started chatting with Aberlani.

"Martin, you play in Ligue 1, do you have a chance to play against Zhang Jun?"

Aberlani shook his head: "No, we weren't in the same group in the Champions League, and we lost in the first knockout round, so we didn't meet them."

Jones murmured, "That's a pity..."

"There's nothing to regret, if we met them, we would have lost even more miserably..." Aberlani's hand suddenly trembled, and he lost the ball. At this time, the game was almost in injury time, he dared not be careless and immediately tackled.

Unfortunately, Ke Lu faked him out and suddenly passed to the wing. Yang Pan caught up and immediately crossed the ball!

Because he lost the ball so suddenly, the defense in the penalty area was not tight, and Zhang Jun easily rose up, unmarked, and headed the ball in! Taking the lead again, 3:2!

The two looked at each other speechlessly. Then Aberlani said self-deprecatingly, "See, I was right, if our club met Fiorentina in reality, we would only lose even more miserably, thankfully this is just a game."

Jones reminded him, "We're playing China in our first World Cup game."

"..." Aberlani threw the controller away, "I'm not playing anymore, I'm not playing anymore."

Jones picked up the controller, finished the remaining few minutes, and then watched the post-match replay, discussing their opponents with Aberlani.

"Martin, how much do you know about this Chinese team?"

Aberlani thought for a moment: "Not too much, but not too little either. Many of them play for top teams in top European leagues, and the national team often comes to Europe to play friendlies, they're very strong. FIFA ranks them as a second-tier team, and there's a reason for that."

"So, Italy and them are going to advance from this group?"

"You can't say that, we still have a chance. Who would have thought that we could beat Argentina, eliminate Brazil, and win the South American Youth Championship two years ago?"

Jones scratched his head: "No one thought of it, even we didn't believe it..."

"Yeah, football is round, strength doesn't mean everything, especially in a competition like the World Cup, we'll have a lot of chances."

"But... Zhang is strong, very strong..." Jones shook his head.

Aberlani patted Jones on the shoulder: "Don't worry, I'm here, we're the best partners, I'll create scoring opportunities for you. Zhang Jun is powerful, but you don't have to face him directly, all you have to face are those slow-turning Chinese defenders. Besides, a game is just a game, the stats in the game don't represent your true level. You have to have confidence, our attack all depends on you."

Jones saw that Aberlani was a little worried about him, and quickly grinned: "I was just kidding, how could I not have confidence? Zhang is my goal, I must defeat him!"

※※※

Tomorrow was the game, before the last tactical session before the match, Qiu Suhui said to his assistant Hu Li: "For the past two years, we've been playing two formations, 442 and 352. That's because we lack a very good right back. The World Cup doesn't allow us to swing back and forth like this anymore, but, in the right back position, there's still no suitable candidate that I can trust. I've decided, we'll still play 352 in the World Cup."

Hu Li didn't speak, but he supported and agreed with Qiu Suhui.

"This way, when attacking, we have an absolute advantage in midfield, and when defending, Yang Pan and Zhao Pengyu can quickly return and participate in defending the flanks. It's just that this formation has very high demands on the wing backs..."

"Don't worry, Yang Pan and Zhao Pengyu won't have any problems."

"Yeah, this way, we can arrange two defensive midfielders in the midfield, Li Yongle and Wang Yu are both in good form, it would be a waste to have one of them on the bench. And the two can complement each other in the defensive midfielder position, the two can't stand parallel, they have to stagger back and forth to increase the depth of defense. All along, Li Yongle's aerial defense ability has been a headache for me, now that Wang Yu is here, the problem is solved."

"Yeah, did you tell the players? About your change."

"I've been practicing 352 in training these past few days, I believe they should all be clear about it."

"To be on the safe side, I think you should still tell them again."

"Okay." Qiu Suhui pushed open the door and walked in with Hu Li. After everyone quieted down, he announced the change in tactics and formation.

To his surprise, and as Hu Li had expected, the conference room immediately erupted in an uproar: "What? We're playing 352?"

"Haven't we been playing 442 all along?"

"Could it be that we've really been practicing 352 these past few days? I thought it was just a show for the spies..."

Hu Li glanced at Qiu Suhui, who was now extremely embarrassed.

"Alright! Everyone be quiet! Quiet down!" A loud roar, and everyone shut up. Then Qiu Suhui repeated what he had said to Hu Li.

"In tomorrow's game, we're playing 352, the two wing backs will have to work harder during the game. Colombia will definitely continue the 451 formation they've been using since the World Youth Championship, both sides have five midfielders, we can't reduce the number of people in the midfield. Although, from a strength analysis, we are much stronger than this Colombian team, this is a dangerous signal, I don't want my players to think that they are guaranteed to win before the game, this kind of thinking can lead to terrible consequences. I want you to treat the Colombian team wearing yellow jerseys as if they were Brazil!"

Looking at the players, no one took his words lightly. Only then did he nod in satisfaction, and then said to the players: "Get some rest early today, the game is in the afternoon, maintain your energy and vigor. Meeting adjourned!"

Pre-match tactical sessions were always the shortest, Qiu Suhui didn't want to bring extra psychological burden to the players, although some people on the team were already so thick-skinned that they didn't know what tension was, and some had seen so many big games that they were used to it, but Qiu Suhui still maintained this habit, which he had developed since he first took over the national Olympic team.

The players said goodbye to the two coaches one by one and walked out of the conference room. Watching the backs of these people, Qiu Suhui waved his hand, from 2003 to 2010, seven years, in the blink of an eye.

The youngsters who had never seen the world before had become men who were used to big occasions. And the Chinese team had gone from 60th in the world to 19th.

And he himself had gotten old.

When there were only him and Hu Li in the huge conference room, Qiu Suhui sighed: "Lao Hu, no matter what the Chinese team's results are in this World Cup, this is the last time I'll be coaching the national team in an international competition."

Hu Li was a little surprised, he had never heard Qiu Suhui mention this before. "Why? You're doing so well now, and there are many people in the country who support you, it's no longer the difficult situation it used to be."

"Tired." Qiu Suhui sighed again, "It's tiring being a head coach, it's even more tiring being a national team head coach, and being the head coach of the Chinese national team is the most tiring. Besides, Lao Hu, you only see the surface, things aren't as good in China as you think. Even that passionate Chen Wei is slowly changing, what else is unchangeable? This is a pool of muddy water, it was before, it is now, and I don't know if it will be in the future... I plan to resign after the World Cup, and then go home and spend time with my wife, I haven't been with her for half a month since we got married, I feel sorry for her."

"Then what about the national team?" Hu Li was stunned by Qiu Suhui's words.

"If the Chinese team is nothing without me, then that means this team has no future. Others will come to replace me, but I advise you, Lao Hu, don't be the first to stick your head out, don't be a coach for a national team, if I retire, you should go back to your original club, I believe the pay won't be low. The professional league reforms have been quite successful in recent years, clubs have a bright future."

Hu Li still found Qiu Suhui's decision a little hard to accept: "Lao Qiu, you used to be passionate and say that you wanted to change Chinese football, to bring hope to Chinese football, why are you backing down now?"

"I think it's not a good thing for a coach to stay in the same position for too long, my departure may be more helpful to Chinese football. The current Chinese football is able to make a name for itself in the international football scene because of a group of talented players, a golden generation, but what about after they retire? Go back to the pre-liberation level? Yes, our reforms have been very successful in recent years, and there have been many achievements. But in my opinion, we are still a long way from true professional football, from the professional football that I idealize, this reform cannot be completed by one or two people, one or two terms, one or two generations."

Hu Li knew that he couldn't possibly persuade Qiu Suhui, "So is this your last World Cup before you completely say goodbye to football?"

"No, no." Qiu Suhui shook his head. "I just want to rest for a while, I didn't say goodbye to football. When I've rested enough, maybe I'll come out again and coach a club."

"Have you told the players?"

"No. I can't say this now, otherwise it will distract them, please keep this a secret for me too. I will choose a suitable time to announce it after the World Cup." Qiu Suhui stood up and looked at the national flag in the conference room. On that rainy night in Kunming, he and Chen Wei met for the first time, and they hit it off, with the same character and pursuit, which brought them together and started this controversial great reform of Chinese football.

He was grateful that he was born in this era, and grateful that he had personally promoted the development of this era and become a part of it. But he also felt tired, and after this World Cup, his historical mission would be completed, and he wanted to rest well.

Chen Wei was changing, yes, he was no longer the passionate young chairman who dared to fight for his ideals. Instead, he was gradually indulging in political achievements and officialdom.

As the Chinese team continued to achieve success, Zhang Jun became a god, Qiu Suhui became a god, and Chen Wei also became a god. Some people remained calm and clear-headed in the face of the title of god and the worship of the masses, like Zhang Jun. But some people chose to get carried away, like Chen Wei.

Although the relationship between the two of them had not broken down and was still harmonious, Qiu Suhui didn't know when it would suddenly break down, he didn't want that day to come, so he simply retired early and left this pool of muddy water.

Victory can cover up all ugliness, and when the Chinese team can no longer win, when Zhang Jun, Yang Pan, Li Yongle and others are all approaching the twilight of their careers, then those hidden contradictions will erupt. Qiu Suhui could do nothing, so it was better to stay away.

"Go back early, there's a game tomorrow, we have to rest well too."

Qiu Suhui said. Hu Li felt that his back was very old, even older than himself. Was it powerlessness? Helplessness? Helplessness? Or something else, Hu Li didn't know.

※※※

When Hu Li woke up the next day, he found that Qiu Suhui had regained his usual energy, his eyes sparkling as he watched the crowds coming and going in the hotel lobby, reminding the players of the time from time to time.

The old figure from yesterday was gone, replaced by Qiu Suhui, who was known by the media as "the most successful coach in Chinese football history" and worshiped by the fans as a "god."

There was a commotion at the door, and an interview team suddenly rushed in, carrying cameras and indoor lighting, rushing to Qiu Suhui and Hu Li.

Qiu Suhui wanted to get angry, which media was so clueless, suddenly barging in for an interview. When he saw the logo on the microphone held to his mouth, he was stunned for a moment, and then his anger disappeared.

It was the logo of CCTV1.

Yes, Chen Wei had told him that CCTV1's "News Broadcast" wanted to interview and film their preparations before the first game, which would be broadcast on "News Broadcast" in the evening. This was a great honor for Chinese football, and he wanted him to actively cooperate.

Qiu Suhui quickly smiled and prepared to accept the interview.

"Coach Qiu, is the Chinese team ready to face the game this afternoon?" Standard nonsense, but nonsense that could allow the respondent to play infinitely.

"Of course." Qiu Suhui smiled confidently, "We are ready and will definitely dedicate a wonderful game to the people of the motherland, and strive to show the spirit of the Chinese team."

※※※

Ellis Park Stadium, a sea of voices, Chinese students in South Africa, die-hard fans who came from China, and tour groups mixed among the fans, all gathered here to cheer for the Chinese team's game.

In the locker room, the Chinese players had already changed into their jerseys, and they had already warmed up. Now they were just waiting to go on the field for the game.

Qiu Suhui was wearing a black trench coat, looking quite stylish. He stood in front of the players, his hands in his pockets.

"I know you all saw me being interviewed, and you all know what I said. But what I want to tell you is, that's all bullshit. We're not here to show our spirit, we're here to win the game!"