Chapter 1 Final Preparations

Twenty minutes later, the team returned from their warm-up on the field. The final stage was about to begin.

The locker room was quiet. Even An Ke and Xiang Tao, who were usually talkative, were silent. Everyone had felt the immense pressure from the fans in the stadium during the warm-up.

For a moment, the only sound was the heavy breathing of the players.

The atmosphere was somewhat oppressive and off. Qiu Suhui didn't want this. Nervousness was expected, but excessive tension would only make the team's legs weak before the game even started.

He remembered the disc.

Cape Town's Greenpoint Stadium was a very modern stadium. How modern? Its locker rooms even had projectors! Qiu Suhui lowered the white projection screen, connected the projector to his laptop, and started to adjust the settings.

The players were puzzled. Usually, at this time, Qiu Suhui would say something to boost morale, but today he was fiddling with a laptop without a word.

Even Yang Pan, who was usually good at guessing the coach's intentions, didn't know what Qiu Suhui was doing.

After preparing everything, Qiu Suhui clapped his hands with satisfaction. "Okay, there's something I want you to see before the game. This past month wasn't long or short. Everyone has been busy with training and matches, and probably hasn't had much time or energy to review the path we've taken. So, I asked someone to help me make this, so you can all see it. How we got here step by step!"

He waved his hand, signaling Hu Li to turn off the lights in the locker room. When the room became pitch black, he clicked the play button on the laptop.

The screen first showed a noisy airport, clearly filmed from a reporter's perspective. The Chinese team had just emerged from the exit, and the scene was slightly chaotic. The camera lens was shaking slightly, as if the cameraman was being jostled around and couldn't keep his balance. The reporters' questions, the security guards' shouts, the clicks of cameras, and the fans' screams and cheers were all mixed together.

The Chinese players were taken aback. They didn't know why Qiu Suhui was showing them this.

At this moment, subtitles appeared at the bottom of the screen: "May 30, 2010, the Chinese team arrives in Johannesburg, South Africa."

"Brazil didn't win the last championship four years ago, this time they must be aiming for the championship," Zhang Jun's face appeared on the screen. "We are too."

"Tell all the participating teams that the Chinese team has arrived."

Then, a flash of golden light, and the screen showed the Chinese team's first match, their resounding 5-0 victory over Colombia.

Zhang Jun was stunned. This was exactly what he had been thinking about last night. Did the person who made this video have a telepathic connection with him?

As the video continued, Sun Nan's "Red Flag Fluttering" began to play.

Inside the locker room, apart from the slight rustling of the projector turning, there was only the increasingly heavy breathing of a group of men, and the occasional "crack" sounds, which were coming from the knuckles of hands.

When An Ke saw himself saving Mascherano's penalty at the end, he stood up from his seat with a "whoosh."

Immediately, everyone's attention was drawn to him.

"Coa... Coach, where did you get... get this thing from?" An Ke stuttered, because he was so excited.

Qiu Suhui didn't rush to answer him, but kept his eyes on the screen. The song gradually faded away, and the picture slowly went black. A line of text appeared in the center of the screen:

"July 15, 2010, let us witness..."

This line of text gradually disappeared, and another line of text appeared:

"We are the champions."

"I asked a friend from the TV station to rush this out, just to show it at this time." Qiu Suhui answered An Ke's question. He didn't ask Hu Li to turn on the lights. At this moment, he needed the players to recall everything they had just seen in the dark. Turning on the lights would distract them.

"Do you know why I showed you this? I think you've already got the answer from your own reactions, right? Come on, take a closer look at this last line of text. What did you think of? As the Chinese men's football team, we've borne countless insults. Now that we've reached this point, I don't want you to have the idea that 'this is good enough'! Since we've made it to the final, why shouldn't we take the championship home? We're not just some dark horse, we have the strength to take everything we want!" In the darkness, Qiu Suhui's voice grew louder and louder. Obviously, his emotions had also become excited after watching this.

No one answered, but the heavier breathing was a clear fact. Qiu Suhui knew he had achieved the effect he wanted.

"Lao Hu, turn on the lights," Qiu Suhui said. The time was ripe.

The lights came back on, and many people didn't react for a moment, squinting their eyes, covering their faces with their hands, or even closing their eyes when they heard the lights being turned on.

"The training these past few days has been very targeted, and everyone understands what level our opponent is. I don't want everyone to underestimate them, but I also don't want everyone to belittle themselves. I've said everything that needs to be said during these days of training. The rest... I think you should understand what you need to do, right?" Qiu Suhui looked at each of the players who were just recovering from the contrast between darkness and light.

※※※

Inside the Brazilian team's locker room.

There was no sound of head coach Dunga setting up tactics, nor the sound of players joking and playing around. A group of people knelt on the cleared locker room floor, praying sincerely.

Among the world-class teams, the internal conflicts of the Dutch team were well-known, and there were various factions in France, Spain, Germany, Italy, and Argentina. But only Brazil was surprisingly united. Logically, any player in the team would be a big star in their club, and it would be impossible to maintain unity and stability with a group of stars together, like Real Madrid in earlier years. But in the Brazilian team, it was rare to hear news of players being at odds or incompatible. In the 1994 World Cup, they even let the world see their unity by holding hands when they took the field.

In addition to the Brazilians' natural optimism and cheerfulness, and their emphasis on national honor, there was also a very important and undeniable factor: religious belief.

After winning the 2002 World Cup, the scene of the entire Brazilian team kneeling in the center circle of the stadium to pray must still be fresh in people's minds. Later, after each major world tournament victory, the Brazilian national team and youth team would use this method to celebrate their victory and thank God.

China is an atheist country, so this situation seemed a bit unbelievable to many Chinese people. However, in Brazil, football had risen to the same status as religion, and the power of religion was absolutely not to be ignored.

Kaka was also among this group of praying people. At this moment, he didn't have the childishness he usually showed in front of Zhang Jun, Yang Pan, and others. His expression was serious and his expression was earnest. He was truly a devout believer...

"May God bless us, Amen." The assistant coach and priest who was leading the prayer finished the last sentence and was the first to stand up. Then more people stood up from the ground, hand in hand.

At this time, the Brazilian team regained their identity as a team.

Dunga looked at the players and nodded with satisfaction. Their match ended earlier than China's, and they didn't have to fight their opponents for 120 minutes like China, and finally have to decide the winner through a brutal penalty shootout. In terms of physical and mental strength, the Brazilian team now had the advantage.

He remembered the 1998 World Cup in France, which was a World Cup he almost never wanted to recall. The Brazilian team, which had been favored by countless people before the tournament, had lost so miserably. Perhaps it was precisely because they were exhausted by the Netherlands in the semi-final, and the players were physically and mentally exhausted, that they lost the final.

He felt that today was so similar to history, the only difference was that the roles were reversed.

The Chinese team was a tired army, and his Brazilian team was waiting for work.

In terms of strength alone, the two sides were evenly matched, but the Brazilian team's advantage was their deep foundation, their bench depth far exceeded that of the Chinese team, and their tactical variability was also greater than that of the Chinese team. According to his research, the Chinese team had relied almost entirely on a single starting lineup in this World Cup, and their substitute strength was clearly not up to par. If their starting lineup was world-class, then their substitutes were at most second-rate in Asia—Dunga had played in the Japanese league, and he knew very well what the level of second-rate in Asia was.

As long as someone in the Chinese team's starting lineup was injured or in poor form, then the Chinese team would face a very passive situation. When the time came to put pressure on them, the team would collapse. After a month of continuous battles, he didn't believe that there wouldn't be physical problems within the Chinese team. Moreover, Zhang Jun had played the most matches this season, and he must be very tired.

Also, because the Chinese team's starting lineup was fixed, they might not even be able to make three substitutions in a match, which also led to the Chinese team's tactics being simple and easily understood by their opponents. It could be said that Qiu Suhui had almost no secrets in front of Dunga. He even knew when you would substitute whom, and how you would change your tactics.

In addition, he had also made a special effort to study Qiu Suhui, to understand his personality and temperament, which would help in analyzing his tactical choices. Through his understanding, he knew that Qiu Suhui was a very capable coach with rich coaching experience, who had done very well in China, and also had support from behind the scenes. At the same time, in terms of personality, Qiu Suhui was a comprehensive coach. He wasn't as avant-garde and extreme as Sabato, nor as conservative as Trapattoni. In some ways, he was more like his friend Van Basten. He knew when to attack and when to defend. In general, although he had been in Europe for many years, the "moderation" that was in the bones of the Chinese people was still reflected in him at any time.

This could be seen from his performance in this World Cup. From the match against Colombia, he had been holding up the banner of attack. The number of goals scored by the Chinese team was the second most among all the participating teams, second only to Dunga's Brazil. This gave others the illusion that Qiu Suhui advocated attack. But he didn't expect that when playing against Argentina, when everyone was expecting a good attacking match, he unexpectedly played a passive defense and counterattack tactic, and the scene was immediately dull. If it hadn't been for Zhang Jun's goal in the final moments of extra time, the Chinese team might have lost the World Cup because of his unexpected tactical arrangement.

Dunga analyzed that Qiu Suhui did this because the pressure was too great, forcing him to be so conservative. So, what kind of tactics would he choose in the final? Dunga was looking forward to it. No matter what tactics the other side took, he had a way to break them. Brazil was the king of today's football. Even if Germany had won the last World Cup, so what? Brazil was still the number one ranked team in FIFA, and still the world champion in the minds of football fans. We Brazilians are never afraid of anyone!

※※※

The security for the final was a hundred times stricter than for the semi-final. These security personnel not only had to ensure the safety of the fans and players in the stadium stands, but there was also an important reason: the presidents of South Africa and Brazil, as well as the Premier of China, were coming to watch the match...

Football and politics were so closely linked together...

Because the security check was particularly strict, the only things that both sides' fans were allowed to bring into the stadium were themselves, their tickets, and flags without flagpoles. The big drums that Chinese fans used to like to bring into the stadium were also confiscated by the security personnel. Everyone had to undergo a strict search while they checked their tickets.

This also meant that both sides' fans could only compete with their voices in the stands.

The stands for 70,000 people were slowly filled, and red and yellow occupied both sides of the stands in a clear-cut manner. The other miscellaneous colors were neutral fans, who had been submerged in the red and yellow oceans.

Sophie put her right hand on her forehead, making a sun visor, and looked towards the stands. The lights on the stadium roof were too strong, and she couldn't see anything clearly without doing this.

The south stands—red, an endless red. Red flags fluttered, and the crowd surged. On closer inspection, the Chinese fans, who were in high spirits, were actually playing the Mexican wave before the match!

The north stands—naturally yellow from Brazil, bright yellow, shining like the World Cup trophy under the lights. The natural decoration in yellow was green, which looked somewhat like Van Gogh's famous painting "Sunflowers"...

"Wow, how spectacular!" Sophie exclaimed involuntarily. She had followed the Chinese team from the first match of the group stage, one match after another. Even when the Chinese team played against Italy, England, and Argentina, the atmosphere in the stadium was far inferior to now. "The final is really different..." She murmured, looking at the packed stands.

Although she had also been at the Champions League final, how could the highest club event on a continent be compared to the highest football event in the world?

Her phone rang in her pocket. It was Li Yan calling. Because her parents had come, Li Yan hadn't contacted Sophie all day today. Calling now must be to confirm the work situation.

"How is it, Sophie? How is your preparation?" Sure enough.

"Everything is fine, just waiting for the match to start."

"That's good... that's good..." Li Yan repeated this sentence. Sophie heard Li Yan's nervousness from his absent-mindedness.

"Brother Li, what's wrong?"

Sophie's voice brought Li Yan back to his senses: "Oh, nothing! I was a little worried, so I called you. Since you're all prepared, then I'm fine too. I'm ready here too."

"Okay, thanks for your concern, Brother Li, haha!" Sophie hung up the phone with a smile.

She looked up towards the press box, but couldn't see anything clearly. There were so many people, how could she see who Li Yan was?

Her gaze moved upwards again. There were the VIP boxes surrounding the roof of the main stands. Again, because the distance was too far, Sophie couldn't distinguish the figures in the boxes, but she knew that in one of those boxes, her parents must be watching her, as well as Zhang Jun.

※※※

Sophie's laughter brought Li Yan back from his absent-minded state. He looked at Caliani, who was watching him with a smile.

"Cough, you're in a good mood!" Li Yan coughed awkwardly.

"Of course, I'm a complete neutral now, haha!" Caliani was right. Although he was Zhang Jun's number one fan, he was also an ardent Inter Milan fan. Their family had been Inter Milan fans for three generations. And the Brazilian team's top scorer, Adriano, was the "King" of Meazza.

Li Yan snorted, "Then you better be careful when you cheer if your Adriano scores later."

Caliani glanced around. This was the Chinese press area, and he was surrounded by Chinese reporters. A fool knew which side he should be on at this time.

"Ah no! I'm Zhang Jun's fan now. Zhang Jun represents the Chinese team, and I'm also a fan of the Chinese team! The Chinese team will win! The Chinese team is the champion!"

Li Yan kept clicking his tongue beside him. Look at how his face changed. After being with himself for a long time, he had also learned to be glib. Uh, Li Yan wasn't saying that he was originally glib, he was just sighing that the pure Italian was gone...

However, Sophie's smile and Caliani's commotion gradually calmed his somewhat nervous and unsettled mood.

※※※

Inside the Chinese team's locker room, Qiu Suhui looked at his players, his eyes lingering on each face, then moving away. How firm the expressions on these faces were!

With such players, what miracles couldn't be achieved?

Looking down at his watch, the time had come.

"Okay, now that you understand what you should do..." Qiu Suhui waved his hand, "Go out there!"

※※※

On the Chinese fans' side of the stands, before the players from both sides even entered the stadium, almost everyone's eyes were attracted by a special fan at the railing of the first tier of the stands.

This person was dressed as the Monkey King from Peking opera. It was Niu Jianhua, Lao Niu, who had risen to fame in these two World Cups and was known as the "Leader of Chinese Fans."

At this moment, not only was he in Peking opera costume, but the dozens of people beside him were also dressed in Peking opera costumes. However, there was still a big difference, because Lao Niu was the Monkey King, and they were the monkey soldiers and generals from Flower Fruit Mountain!

Lao Niu, playing the Monkey King, struck a pose, and then said loudly, "My children! Today I heard that the barbarian Brazilians from the West are coming to fight my China! The two sides will fight fiercely in this small land of Cape Town, South Africa! We have come here to help! My little ones, be sure to shout and cheer loudly! Don't let the barbarians underestimate our Chinese men! Don't disgrace the reputation of our China!"

"Yes, sir!" The "monkeys" answered in unison, the momentum was quite spectacular...

※※※

The players from both sides were standing close to each other in the tunnel, with three referees in front of them, waiting to enter the stadium.

Kaka turned back to find Zhang Jun. He knew that Zhang Jun must be at the end of the line. After finding Zhang Jun, he gave him a smile, and then turned his head away. This was a sensitive time, and the atmosphere was somewhat oppressive. He didn't want to give others a frivolous feeling.

Neither side's players took the initiative to greet each other, and even said very little. Everyone was silent and thinking about their own things.

The noise outside the stadium was close at hand. As long as they stepped out of that door, it would be a whole new world. Now they were less than twenty meters away from stepping out.

The chief referee held the match ball and turned back to the captains of both teams and said, "Okay, it's time to go out, please follow me."

Ronaldinho turned back to his teammates and smiled, "Let's go!"

Yang Pan turned back like him and shouted loudly, "It's our turn to play! Brothers, cheer up!"

"Oh!" Whether it was Brazil or China, everyone let out this roar.

※※※

"Look! The players from both sides are coming out!" The commentator shouted excitedly.

As the players stepped out of the tunnel, the theme song of this World Cup, the exciting "Moment of Glory," sounded again. At this moment, this was the music to welcome twenty-two heroes. Ninety minutes, one hundred and twenty minutes, or even longer, this would again become the music for the heroes to triumph, be crowned, and lift the trophy.

"Brazil! Brazil!"

"Long live the Chinese team! Go, Chinese team!"

The fans erupted in huge cheers, intertwined with each other. No one could hear what they were shouting, but the atmosphere made people's blood boil.

Kaka looked up and scanned the packed stands. He had experienced this scene four years ago. He wasn't a novice anymore, but facing this scene again, he still couldn't suppress the restlessness in his heart. And this time was different from last time. This time his opponent was the Chinese team, Zhang Jun, Yang Pan, An Ke, and the others. Partners who had fought together before...

The glittering World Cup trophy was placed on the stand by the exit of the tunnel on the side of the field. With this as the dividing point, the Brazilian team went to the left, and the Chinese team entered the field to the right.

Kaka glanced at the trophy that he had personally lifted once before. Eight years ago, he was still an ignorant young man who went to Korea and Japan just to gain knowledge and experience. Four years ago, as the team's main player, he was unable to save Brazil in the final and watched helplessly as the host country took it for themselves. Now, he was the core of the Brazilian team, an important player who was called the "New Generation Brazilian Leader after Ronaldinho." He had the ability to change his destiny with his performance. The World Cup would belong to Brazil for the sixth time!

I'm coming, Zhang Jun...

Watching his teammates in front of him run out one after another, Zhang Jun began to calm his mind.

This was the final, the final of the World Cup, different from any final he had participated in before.

Dad, I'm standing in the player tunnel of the World Cup final, can you see me? You were the first to give me a football as a birthday present, teach me how to play football, let me watch football game recordings, and cultivate my interest in football; later, after I went to high school, you encouraged me to keep playing football and not give up; then, when I was hesitating between going to college and dropping out to play professional football, you gave me the confidence to make a firm choice for professional football.

I play football for myself, for Sophie, for Mom, for those officials of the Chinese Football Association, for Qiu’s future, for Ren Yudi’s dream, for the dreams of Chinese fans… I play football for countless people in this world who are related to me or not, but I have never played for you. You took so many photos of me playing football, from childhood to adulthood, but you haven't taken a photo of me at this moment, the eighteenth photo album has only half of the photos in it…

However, Dad, your star pupil, Sophie, has inherited your talent very well. The large photo album with her name on it is already full of the eighth one. Today, she is continuing your dream on the sidelines.

Dad, watch your son play football! Bless me from above…

Sophie, watch me play football!

"Zhang Jun! Zhang Jun ran out of the player tunnel. He is the last one to appear on the stage! Let's wait patiently for a few more minutes, this highly anticipated final is about to begin!"

※※※

The two teams stood in place to sing the national anthems, take photos, shake hands with each other, and then the captains and the chief referee got together to exchange team flags and toss a coin to choose sides. After a set of standard procedures, the Chinese team won the right to kick off. Yang Pan was lucky.

"Friends, viewers! This is CCTV5! CCTV5!" Wang Jianxiang began his live commentary work with some excitement. His voice sounded a little hoarse due to continuous work, but it did not affect his full-bodied voice to commentate on this game. "We are now at the Greenpoint Stadium in Cape Town, South Africa, bringing you the live broadcast of the final of the 19th World Cup! The Chinese team challenges the Brazilian team! Now standing on the left side of the field, wearing yellow tops and blue shorts, are the five-time World Cup champions, the kings of football, the Brazilian team! And on the right side of the field, wearing red jerseys and red shorts, is our Chinese team! This is our first time entering the World Cup final, but our goal is definitely not just to be here!"

A commentator is often required to remain neutral, because leaning towards one side of the game will hurt the feelings of fans and viewers from the other side. But today, Wang Jianxiang did not avoid using "we" to refer to the Chinese team in the game. Obviously, he had incorporated his own emotions into it, and no one would come out to criticize him for doing so, because at this time, the people watching the game in front of the TV and listening to his commentary were all Chinese fans, and the object of their support was the same.

After the players from both sides stood on the field according to their respective formations, there was a moment of silence in the huge stadium. Everyone was holding their breath and waiting for the chief referee's whistle to sound.

At the same time, countless cameras had adjusted their apertures and were aimed at the field.

People were like athletes waiting for the starting gun, their fingers trembling slightly on the shutter.

The chief referee in charge of this match was Marcus Merk, a famous chief referee from Germany. As a chief referee who was as famous as Collina from Italy, Nielsen from Denmark, Frisk from Sweden, and Meier from Switzerland, he was a golden whistle cultivated by UEFA. He was also the only one of those referees who was still active on the field. At the same time, due to age, this World Cup was also the last World Cup he would be refereeing, and this final was also the last match he would be refereeing. FIFA gave him enough face by using the World Cup final as his retirement farewell match.

At the same time, using a European referee in a match between an Asian team and an American team also played a role in balancing the situation and expressed fairness, and there would be no controversial penalties due to continental inclinations.

Merk looked down at the chronograph on his left wrist, and then looked at another watch on the wristband on his right wrist. The time on these two watches had to be the same. At the same time, they also had to be synchronized with the time on the timer in the hands of the fourth official off the field. Only when the three times were the same could it be ensured that there would be no errors in the time of the match. You must know that in football matches, sometimes an error of one second can change the fate of a team…

Don't believe it? Here's an example: In the 1978 World Cup group stage, Welsh chief referee Clive Thomas "timely" blew the final whistle at the moment when Zico headed in a goal. In the end, due to this 1-1 draw, Brazil qualified as the second team in the group. Brazil's fate next… Anyway, the host country Argentina won the final.

After comparing all the times on both hands, Merk looked up at the sidelines, waiting for the fourth official's instructions.

Zhang Jun stepped on the football with his foot. Beside him was his attacking partner Wu Shangshan. Neither of them spoke, and they were both thinking silently. Before such an important game, there must be many different thoughts in their hearts.

Adriano and Kaka on the opposite side also stood with serious faces, saying nothing.

Everyone was waiting.

The fourth official on the sidelines finally nodded to Merk.

Merk withdrew his gaze to the sidelines, then took a deep breath and waved his right hand forward vigorously.

"Toot—!"