Chapter 1 A Red Card

"Red card! Only twenty minutes into the game, Li Suisheng, the main defender of the Chinese team, was sent off with a red card by Merck!"

Chinese fans who stayed up all night to watch the game in front of their TVs stared at Merck on the screen in disbelief, as if they had seen a UFO. Those who were emotional began to curse, while the pessimists buried their heads in their hands, unwilling to watch any further.

"I curse his ancestors for eighteen generations! How can he be so biased?"

"Black whistle!" At this point, many people no longer cared about rational thinking. As long as the judgment was unfavorable to their team, it was automatically a black whistle. So, Merck being called that by Chinese fans wasn't entirely unfair...

"We're down a man so quickly, how can we play this game?!"

"This is the World Cup final! How can the referee call it like this?!"

...

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The situation back home was chaotic, but that didn't help the Chinese team in Cape Town, South Africa. Qiu Suhui remained standing on the sidelines, racking his brains for a solution.

In reality, the conventional approach at this point would be to substitute another defender, reduce the number of attacking players, and adopt a full-scale defensive strategy, playing a defensive counter-attack against Brazil. After all, the score was still 0-0. As long as they seized an opportunity to score a goal, the scales of victory might tip in their favor.

But could doing so really guarantee victory?

They were facing Brazil, the most offensively powerful team in this World Cup! Even eleven men might not be able to hold them, let alone ten. If they couldn't defend and ended up losing the game, wouldn't that be both a loss and a disgrace? Of course, the numerical disadvantage was due to the referee, so even if they lost, the outside world shouldn't think the Chinese team played pathetically. There was no helping it.

But what had he said before the match? What were they here for? Sightseeing? Wrong! Gaining experience? Wrong! Learning from others? Wrong! If it wasn't for that trophy on the sidelines, what was the point of working so hard, defeating so many opponents to stand here? If he was already thinking about finding excuses for losing the game, what was the point of all the preparation?

Qiu Suhui's notebook from the past two days of training was filled with possible scenarios during the final, such as Brazil playing a tight defense, Brazil pressing forward for an all-out attack, and so on. Qiu Suhui had demanded that the team practice targeted responses during training. But even if he was a genius, he probably hadn't thought to add this to his notes:

What should the Chinese team do if they were down a man just twenty minutes into the game, especially a defender?

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While Qiu Suhui was struggling to come up with a strategy, the Brazilian team, taking advantage of their numerical superiority, had already launched a siege against the Chinese team.

Even Lucio had the "feat" of dribbling the ball up to the Chinese team's thirty-meter area, which showed how dire the Chinese team's situation was.

Even worse than the numerical disadvantage was the players' morale. After such a blow, the Chinese team's fighting spirit began to dissipate, and the understanding between the players also suffered due to their disapproval of Wang Yu's performance. Being down a man, and then excluding Wang Yu, was like losing two players.

How could they play a game like this?

Kaka took a shot from twenty-five meters away from the goal. Before that, he had held the ball for more than ten seconds, and no one had even tried to press him or interfere, allowing him to shoot so easily. Although An Ke tried his best to save the shot, he showed no joy. Instead, he leaped up from the ground and roared, "Defenders! Defensive midfielders! What are you doing? What?! Letting the opponent shoot so easily! Do you even want to play football? Are you even trying to play this final?!"

The teammates he scolded lowered their heads, not knowing if it was because they were in the wrong or because they were numb.

Forget it, we're down a man anyway, so losing is inevitable, right? Some people must be thinking that way.

Who would have thought that the final that so many people had been looking forward to would lead to the Chinese team's collapse because of a red card? The world is unpredictable, and football is unpredictable.

Qiu Suhui hadn't come up with a strategy yet, but he saw such an ugly side of his team first. Furious, he wished that football games had timeouts like basketball, so he could call these bastards down and give them a good scolding. Now, he could only shout a few words from the sidelines, but before he could even open his mouth, he heard another roar.

"Everyone, get your spirits up! We're just down a man! It's not like we're down a man and a goal. At least we're still tied with Brazil in terms of score. If you give up now, I bet you'll die even uglier than you think! I guarantee it!" The voice was hoarse, but familiar... it was Captain Yang Pan. His eyes were wide open, and the blood vessels in the whites of his eyes were clearly visible, making him look quite scary.

"Ah Sheng traded his expulsion for this tie! Are you going to ruin it like this?! What will he think when he sees our performance in the locker room? If we lose, who will the media blame the most? Not you! Not me! But Li Suisheng, who should have been a hero!" Taking advantage of the time while the Brazilian team was taking a corner kick, Yang Pan roared on the edge of the penalty area.

Since the start of the game, Yang Pan hadn't had many chances to shine, only a few fleeting moments. His performance in the earlier incident wasn't very prominent either. Almost forgotten, Zhang Jun had thought he was just worried about his family, so he was a bit absent-minded. This outburst was something that many people hadn't expected. Everyone stared blankly at their captain who was blowing up.

His short hair, soaked with sweat, didn't fall down and stick to his forehead, but stood straight up, piercing the sky. Yang Pan now gave the impression of "hair standing on end in anger."

"Wang Yu! I don't know what you were thinking just now, but I won't allow that to happen again! You're a defensive midfielder, mainly responsible for defense. Don't look so lost! Focus! Forget everything that happened before. For you, the game just started a minute ago! If you want to atone, if you want to apologize to Ah Sheng, do it with your performance! Don't make people laugh at you!"

"An Ke, shut your mouth for a while. Qiu Zhi told you to command the defense, not to vent your personal grudges! Just guard your goal honestly! Why so much nonsense?!"

"What are you all standing around for? Defend! Brazil is taking a corner kick!" Yang Pan clapped his hands sharply, waking up many of the Chinese players who were still stunned. Everyone hurriedly took their positions in the penalty area, looking for their marking targets. Even Wang Yu perked up and stood in front of the goal.

After seeing Yang Pan's performance, Qiu Suhui went back to his seat. It seemed he didn't need to step in...

Ronaldinho's corner kick flew straight to the goal. The frustrated An Ke roared, "Damn it, I'm coming!" Then he rushed out, soared into the air, and snatched the ball directly from Lucio and Adriano's pincer attack.

Holding the ball, he didn't forget to give Lucio a beastly expression, baring his teeth and growling in his throat. As if he would eat anyone who dared to come and take the ball.

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The Chinese team temporarily returned to normal under Yang Pan's sudden roar, but Qiu Suhui knew that if he didn't come up with a solution soon, this situation would quickly disappear. Once Brazil scored, even if Yang Pan shouted himself hoarse, it wouldn't have any effect. The football field was like a battlefield, and morale was very important. If the Chinese team lost their morale, they would really collapse like a landslide.

First of all, as the coach, he had to come up with a feasible plan to give the players a clear direction to strive for, so that they could better adjust the team's morale.

Five minutes had passed, and the Chinese team was relying entirely on a surge of energy to deal with Brazil.

What should he do? Give up attacking, defend with everyone, and patiently deal with Brazil, hoping to score a goal by luck?

Or ignore everything and fight Brazil in an all-out attack? Even if they died, they would die gloriously. Maybe they'd get lucky and win?

Seeing Qiu Suhui's brow furrowed, never relaxing, Hu Li knew that Qiu Suhui was facing a huge problem. So, although he was anxious, he didn't disturb him, letting him think quietly.

As the assistant coach, all he could do at this moment was stand on the sidelines and occasionally remind the players on the field to stay focused. Sometimes, he felt that he wasn't even as good as Yang Pan, who was fighting hard on the field.

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Dunga leisurely crossed his legs. He was really enjoying the game now. He had studied the Chinese team and Qiu Suhui for a long time, and believed that this would be a game that, although not suspenseful, would be very difficult. He didn't expect the actual development of the game to exceed his expectations. Only twenty minutes into the game, the Chinese team was down a man, and from the subsequent play, the Chinese team was still fighting amongst themselves. God bless Brazil! With such a good opportunity, Brazil only needed to score one goal to destroy the Chinese team's fragile fighting spirit.

He was quietly waiting for that moment to arrive.

Moreover, based on his understanding of Qiu Suhui, at this time, Qiu Suhui would definitely choose to give up attacking, replace a forward with a defender, first strengthen the defense, hoping to block Brazil's offensive with a defensive wall, and rely on Zhang Jun, left in the front, to create a threat to Brazil's defense.

This wasn't just Qiu Suhui, probably every coach in the world would make this decision in this situation. Because facing Brazil, anyone who still thought about attacking with one less player was either crazy or an idiot.

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Qiu Suhui sat in his chair, thinking about the question from earlier. Another five minutes passed. Although Brazil hadn't scored, even Wang Jianxiang had to admit that, in this situation, Brazil scoring was only a matter of time.

The cheers of the Brazilian fans in the stands had completely drowned out the Chinese. The red card from the referee had not only hit the team, but also countless Chinese fans who had harbored beautiful hopes before the game.

Kaka focused his attention on Zhang Jun whenever he had a chance on the field. In his opinion, with the Chinese team at a disadvantage overall, Zhang Jun, as a forward, couldn't play any role at all. Their coach had been slow to make adjustments. The Chinese team was now like a headless fly, not knowing which direction to fly in, and had to rely on their impulse against the referee to fight hard on the field. What would be the result?

In these ten minutes, the Chinese team hadn't had a single decent shot, while their Brazilian team had already had four shots, averaging one shot every two and a half minutes.

Zhang Jun must be depressed, right? This was supposed to be a perfect duel between us... but this is the World Cup, this is football, no one can imagine what will happen.

Good luck, Zhang Jun.

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While Hu Li was anxious on the sidelines, he saw Qiu Suhui stand up from his seat. Judging from his firm eyes and posture, he must have a clear idea in his mind. He had finally made a decision?

He put his fingers in his mouth and blew a loud whistle, drawing the players' attention to him. Qiu Suhui shouted loudly from the sidelines, "Wang Yu!"

Hearing Qiu Suhui call his name, Wang Yu quickly turned his head to the sidelines, seeing Qiu Zhi pointing at him, then swinging his arm back and forth.

"That's right! You go back and play center back! Go to the left, fill Li Suisheng's gap! Everyone else, listen, the strategy remains unchanged, follow what we planned before the game! If we concede a goal, you know what you have to do!!"

Hu Li was startled by what he heard. Wang Yu going back to play defender, double defensive midfielder becoming single defensive midfielder! Qiu Suhui would rather reduce a midfielder than give up an attacking spot! He was determined to go on the offensive against Brazil?!

Not only Hu Li, but the players on the field were also shocked. Wang Yu stood there, afraid he had misheard. Qiu Zhi wanted him to play defender! Although he had occasionally played center back for Atletico Madrid, he wasn't completely without experience. With a height of 1.86 meters and excellent heading ability, was this too risky?

Other players were even more shocked by what Qiu Suhui showed in this instruction—he wanted to go on the offensive against Brazil! Despite being a man down, he still insisted on attacking. What kind of spirit was that? Or had Qiu Zhi completely given up on this game? Planning to fight the opponent to the death...

"What are you standing around for? Change positions! Get into the game! Play well!" Qiu Suhui shouted again in a hoarse voice, and the Chinese players on the field finally reacted.

Wang Yu hurried to the back and stood in line with Liu Peng and Xiang Tao.

"Hey, kid." Seeing Wang Yu become a center back, An Ke snorted, "Now you're finally under my direct command. Be honest with me. If you still want to win this game, do as I say!"

Wang Yu lowered his head and didn't answer An Ke. No one could see what his expression was, and no one knew what he was thinking.

※※※

The first to notice the Chinese team's adjustment were the commentators, who had a clear view of the field from above. Almost all the commentators exclaimed: The Chinese team is sticking to attack!

In this situation, any normal coach would replace Wu Shangshan and bring in a real center back, right? They should try to stabilize the defense first and then look for counter-attack opportunities. But Qiu Suhui directly replaced the center back position with Wang Yu. He did this because he didn't want to replace any attacking players. He wanted to maintain pressure on Brazil's defense!

If you want to win, then this is the only way. Even if you die, it will be glorious, nothing to be ashamed of.

Qiu Suhui's idea was that simple. Offense is the best defense. As a coach, he didn't believe this sentence. But now, he had to believe it. If he wanted to restrain Brazil's crazy offensive, he could only hope that his team would counter-attack and make them afraid.

Dunga also noticed the Chinese team's adjustment. He was so shocked that he jumped up from his seat—this was the first time his butt had left the seat in this game.

What's going on?

Dunga looked at the Chinese team on the field, and then turned his head to look at Qiu Suhui on the sidelines. Wasn't he supposed to be a mediocre coach? So shouldn't he choose what any ordinary coach would do at this time? Recall the defense! Then use the speed on the front line to find opportunities to score!

How could it be...

With one less player on the field, letting the defensive midfielder play center back, insisting on personnel configuration that meant danger and risk... how could he do such a crazy thing?

Dunga felt that Qiu Suhui at this moment was so strange, completely different from the Qiu Suhui he had studied.

Was it because of his obsession with victory? Or was he confused by the current predicament?

The Brazilian coach had to re-examine this person he thought he had thoroughly researched. The previous assumptions might need to be completely overturned. And more frighteningly, since the coach didn't think the same way as him, then his team couldn't perform in the way he thought they would.

How much of a threat would this Chinese team, with its shortage of soldiers and generals, pose to his Brazil?

※※※

The sudden cheers in the stands came from the Chinese fans. Their voices drowned out the Brazilians' cheers. Because at this moment, the Chinese team was attacking. The Chinese team, after being sent off one player and being pressed by Brazil in their own half for ten minutes, launched a counterattack for the first time.

Wang Yu retreated to play defender, and Li Yongle's task became heavier, but his performance was still more than adequate, which was admirable. Now he was responsible for organizing the Chinese team's counterattack, not choosing to launch a long pass rashly, but dividing the ball to Klu in front.

Klu's dribbling made the Brazilians marvel, but he didn't show off his superb dribbling skills too much, but very quickly passed the ball to Wu Shangshan.

This man, who had always been considered Zhang Jun's sidekick, the "useless person" who would definitely be the first to be replaced when the team was in crisis, and who had once been disliked by most fans for competing with Zhang Jun for attention, Qiu Suhui had left him on the field, which must have been carefully considered.

It was actually very simple, because Wu Shangshan was "fast enough." The Brazilian team's defense in this World Cup was generally not fast, and Wu Shangshan's ability to break through vertically was what Brazil feared, and what Qiu Suhui needed.

Perhaps he was slightly weaker than Zhang Jun in terms of scoring ability, but Wu Shangshan was good at dribbling and breaking through.

Wu Shangshan indeed intended to use his speed to tear apart the Brazilian team's defense vertically. Cicinho and Luisão were forced to go forward to double-team.

They had been happily surrounding the Chinese team's half just now, and now the Chinese team had hit their thirty-meter area with three passes, inevitably making them feel a little embarrassed.

Cicinho was slightly careless, allowing Wu Shangshan to use his speed to force his way through the two of them!

"Wu Shangshan has broken through! His speed is giving the Brazilian defense a headache!"

After breaking through, Wu Shangshan didn't shoot, but chose to pass. In terms of shooting ability, he knew he was not as good as Zhang Jun. Now, every opportunity was precious to the Chinese team, so he wasn't greedy and would pass to Zhang Jun whenever he had the chance, letting him complete the final blow.

This ball, passed to the front of the goal, caused chaos. Zhang Jun and Lucio fell to the ground at the same time to shovel the ball, one for a sliding shot, the other for a clearance.

In the end, Zhang Jun blocked the position, so he shoveled the ball first, but his close-range sliding shot went wide!

Even so, it made the Brazilians break out in a cold sweat.

After Qiu Suhui insisted on offensive football, the Chinese team proved with their actions that what their coach had said was true. This almost made Dunga sit down. After proving that he was completely wrong, Dunga couldn't continue to cross his legs and watch the show on the sidelines.

If Qiu Suhui's team was as crazy as him, could Brazil withstand it?

Zhang Jun, lying on the ground, slammed the grass hard, then slowly got up, shaking his head as he walked back.

Kaka saw hope again in Zhang Jun's performance just now... This game wasn't over yet, and the referee's red card couldn't destroy Zhang Jun's will to win!

He felt a touch of excitement.

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"Thirty-five minutes have passed in the first half, and there are about ten minutes left before the end of the first half. The score is still 0:0! The Chinese team, which is one man down, has gradually regained its fighting spirit. They have not retreated to defend, but are bravely fighting against Brazil, using their strong attack to reduce the pressure on the defense. But how long can this balance on the field be maintained?"

As Wang Jianxiang was speaking, Brazil launched an attack. The restoration of morale in the Chinese team made many Brazilian players feel the joy of the game again. Without a strong opponent, the Brazilians simply couldn't muster their energy, and the World Cup final was no different.

Renato passed the ball to Ronaldinho. Ronaldinho dribbled frantically, forcing Li Yongle to give up everything else and concentrate on taking care of him. As for Kaka, he could only be handed over to other teammates.

Step-overs! Ronaldinho's feints, Li Yongle swayed his upper body following the opponent's rhythm. Seeing an opportunity, Ronaldinho quickly pushed the ball to the outside and accelerated to overtake!

Li Yongle leaned in with his whole body at the same time that Ronaldinho pushed the ball, using his physical advantage to press against Ronaldinho.

Seeing that the opponent was more difficult to deal with than he had imagined, Ronaldinho suddenly stopped and turned around, planning to break through from the other side!

Li Yongle reacted quickly and also stopped and turned around! At the same time, he stretched his foot to block the ball from the right.

Unexpectedly, Ronaldinho's right foot kicking towards the ball was just a feint. His foot shook behind the ball and then retracted, and at the same time, taking advantage of Li Yongle's split legs and no time to adjust his center of gravity, he pushed the ball between Li Yongle's legs!

Nutmegged!

Klu had used the same move to shake off Ronaldinho who was defending him, and now Ronaldinho was following suit, repaying the Chinese team.

Ronaldinho, who had pushed the ball past Li Yongle's crotch, jumped over Li Yongle, who had almost fallen to the ground with split legs, and broke through easily!

The poor best defensive midfielder in Serie A was tricked by the best attacking midfielder in the world.

Ronaldinho, who had broken through Li Yongle, continued to create chaos for the Chinese team's defense. Due to the numerical disadvantage, the Chinese team seemed stretched and very embarrassed in defense.

Yang Pan had to return from the wing to the middle to assist in defense. He rushed towards Ronaldinho, but Xiao Luo, looking at his left, passed the ball to the right, leaving Yang Pan with nothing.

At the same time, Adriano, who received the ball, relied on his strong body to hold off Liu Peng, preventing him from intercepting the ball. Then, he didn't seek personal credit, but looked for opportunities for his teammates.

He made a feint to turn around and shoot, tricking Xiang Tao next to him to lean towards him, and then he unexpectedly passed the ball out.

When Kaka received the ball on the edge of the penalty area, the Chinese players were horrified to find that, at this moment, there was not a single Chinese player around Kaka!

How could Kaka let go of such a great opportunity?

Without adjusting the ball, he swung his foot and shot!

The ball was fast and tricky!

Even if An Ke was the best goalkeeper in Europe last season, he was powerless, because the angle of Kaka's shot and where he was standing were completely opposite! Adriano's pass was clever and concealed, making Kaka's shot so easy and powerful.

The ball slammed into the net!

"Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooal!!! Kaka scores! The Brazilian team finally broke the deadlock on the field and took the lead!"

Kaka, who scored in the World Cup final, was unusually excited. He raised his hands and ran to the sidelines, looking up at the sky to thank God. Soon he was surrounded by his excited Brazilian teammates, only his white arms were still pointing to the sky.

Watching the ball fly into the goal at the other end of the goal, An Ke painfully sat down on the ground, he was powerless. The worst thing for a team in a numerical disadvantage was to fall behind in the score, and now all the bad things were happening! He didn't blame any of his teammates, because he knew that this wasn't the fault of any player. Yes, we missed a man in Kaka's defense, but Wang Yu was originally responsible for defending Kaka, and now Wang Yu was sent by Qiu Zhi to be the center back, so Kaka was naturally not his responsibility. The miss was entirely due to being one less person than the opponent.

"Poor Chinese team! After being sent off one player, they are now behind in the score! This final is the most difficult game for them!"

This goal was definitely a huge blow to the Chinese team. Many players could only lower their heads, put their hands on their hips, and silently accept the result. They didn't express anything else, even An Ke didn't show anger at the goal, which was an abnormal performance in Yang Pan's eyes—sometimes An Ke was like a mad dog, but the Chinese team needed his "mad dog spirit."

The morale that had been so hard to boost was about to weaken again like this. Yang Pan was anxious, but what could he say now? Repeat what he had said before? That would only make people think he was at his wit's end.

Zhang Jun ran into the goal, picked up the abandoned ball, and also pulled up An Ke who was lying on the ground. "Why so depressed, like your girlfriend ran away with someone?" he said to An Ke, "I thought you would just start swearing. Okay, don't look so gloomy, it's just one goal, right? Easy, I'll go and get it back."

He said it lightly, but couldn't hide the firmness in his words.

An Ke stared blankly at Zhang Jun. He patted his shoulder, turned around and ran towards the center circle. Bypassing his depressed teammates, he ran step by step towards Brazil's goal. The red number 11 jersey fluttered in the wind, like a flag.

Since high school, whenever he lost a ball and became depressed, he would always stand up and comfort himself like this. Then he would say nothing and silently pick up the ball and run towards the center circle.

As a forward... he needs to take on the responsibility of the whole team when the team is in trouble, and use his feet to redeem the other ten teammates and a coach. While enjoying the cheers from all directions, this is also the price they must pay. The pressure is often beyond imagination.

Based on An Ke's understanding of Zhang Jun, he wasn't someone who liked to bear pressure. In the past, the pressure passively found him, but this time he actively took on the pressure. Perhaps he, who was already bearing the heavy expectations of hundreds of millions of fans across the country, didn't care about taking on one more responsibility.

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Seeing Kaka score, Sophie's heart tightened. She was behind the Chinese team's goal and could see everything very clearly. The Chinese team's disadvantage of being one man down made her a little uneasy, but when she saw Zhang Jun's firm back for the first time, she felt relieved.

At least, that person hadn't given up, and the game was far from over.

※※※

Li Yan painfully clutched his head in his hands. At this moment, he completely lacked the composure and calmness of a gold medal reporter. He was as easily excited as an ordinary die-hard fan.

"Damn referee! I will definitely scold him mercilessly in my post-match comments! I swear! He needs to know the anger of the Chinese people!" Even now, Li Yan couldn't forgive Merck. He stubbornly believed that it was Merck's reckless play that had forced the Chinese team onto a dead end.

Cagliari suddenly grabbed Li Yan and dragged him to the railing. "Don't be silly, Li Yan! The referee's decision is just one factor, not the Chinese team's death sentence! Don't lose your proud composure, open your eyes and look! Look!" He pointed at the field and said to Li Yan, "Zhang Jun hasn't given up, this game isn't over yet! What's the difference of one goal? Zhang Jun is the top scorer in Serie A, hasn't he created enough miracles with his own hands?"

Li Yan opened his eyes and looked at the slightly lonely figure standing in the center circle. Indeed, among the depressed Chinese players, Zhang Jun, with his gentle appearance but strong heart, was so prominent, even a bit like a "crane standing among chickens." Yang Pan was the on-field captain of the Chinese team, Li Yongle was the Chinese team's tireless heart, Klu was the brain that initiated all of the Chinese team's attacks, An Ke injected the Chinese team with a "mad dog spirit" that they had never had before, and Zhang Jun? He was the Chinese team's spiritual pillar, the Chinese team's totem. As long as he was on the field, everyone would feel at ease.

As a result, within China, there had always been a debate over whether Yang Pan was more suitable to be the captain or Zhang Jun was more suitable to be the captain. Although Zhang Jun had stated more than once in public that he supported Yang Pan as the captain, he was more suitable than himself. But there were still many people who believed that Zhang Jun, as the team's spiritual idol, should be the captain.

Qiu Suhui's approach was that Yang Pan was the first captain, Zhang Jun was the second captain, and Li Yongle, who was also suitable to be the captain but slightly less popular, was the third captain.

"It's true as you said, Zhang Jun hasn't given up. But... Andrea, don't you think it's a bit too cruel for us to put all our hopes on Zhang Jun?" Li Yan murmured, looking at Zhang Jun on the field.

"He's the top scorer, he's the top idol, he's the top star, if we don't put it on him, who else can we put it on? That's his responsibility."

※※※

Qiu Suhui turned around and asked Hu Li: "How much time is left in the first half?"

Hu Li looked at the stopwatch in his hand: "Without injury time, eight minutes."

Qiu Suhui turned his gaze back to the field: "It seems that there's no hope of equalizing the score before the end of the first half... That's fine! I'll make some good adjustments during the half-time break, and then we'll have a final battle in the second half!"

Conceding the goal just now did make him a little disappointed, but now he had regained his composure. As the coach, he must not fall before the players, especially since there was a Dunga watching him unkindly next to him. He couldn't show the slightest panic, otherwise it would be destroying his own prestige and boosting the morale of others.