[Football] Bad Boy Batty

If we were to say who is the saddest man these days, it would be Karius.

Since that day when he made an outrageous mistake in the first leg of the Champions League semi-final and gave Real Madrid 2 goals, the name "Karius" has been on the hot search for 3 consecutive days and has been on the list in many countries, which shows the influence of football as a sport around the world.

Many fans made spoofs of the clip where he lost the ball, for example, they photoshopped Benzema into a Tyrannosaurus Rex, scaring him so much that he threw the ball to Benzema, or changed Bale's shot into a cannonball, blowing him and the goal up together.

The most outrageous thing is that due to too many people making use of the meme, many new fans mistakenly understood "Karius" as "butter hands". After this incident was exposed, some people even suggested that the broad "butter hands" should be called Karius.

Of course, this was not nearly as outrageous as his two mistakes.

Fortunately, this is only the semi-final of the Champions League and Liverpool still has a chance to save the situation. If this happened in the final, it would be truly hopeless.

Compared to the dark clouds over Liverpool, the sun is shining brightly over Manchester City.

After the reversal against Roma, Manchester City used this morale to beat Chelsea 2-0 in the FA Cup final and won their second trophy of the season (although they won the Premier League, the trophy would not be given to Manchester City until the final round).

而在一周后的联赛中, 曼城4-1击败了西汉姆联, 将他们的赛季积分攒到了99分，打破了切尔西在2004-05赛季保持的联赛95分夺冠记录，而且看样子还能再涨。

After taking a photo with the trophy that day, Batistuta came to the lounge chatting with B Silva. Just a few minutes ago, he had accepted the opponent's table football challenge.

"You actually want to compete with the Brazilians in this." Batty took a ball and hit it on his head, then bent down and stopped it steadily with the back of his neck, "Come on, baby, let's try it."

"Don't you want to gamble something?"

"You still want to bet? Fine." Batty stood up and tucked the ball under his armpit. "What's the bet?"

"Betting on the celebrations after scoring in the last two games." B rubbed his hands and said with a sly smile, "If I win, you have to do what I think."

"for example?"

"Like pig noses, pig ears, and pig tails."

"No, I've already thought about it," Batistuta shook his head and held up two fingers. "I've been looking forward to celebrating in the 100th league point game for a long time."

B Seat raised his eyebrows: "But we will score over 100 points in the next game."

"What? No, no, no, I'm counting." Barty waved his hand, "There are still two rounds left. If we can win them all, then, uh-"

"105 points." B Silva took over Barty's words and rubbed his chin sarcastically, "Look at how hard you are trying to count. Don't bet with me. You will definitely lose."

"What do my bad math and my ability to beat you at table football have to do with each other?" Batistuta made a provocative eye-to-eye gesture to B. Silva, "Come on, start!"

……

When Ederson finished his goalkeeper training and returned to the lounge, Batistuta and B Silva had already played table football for five rounds. Batistuta still had a frivolous smile, while B Silva began to frown. Thanks to Tokarius, his training included many long shots and strange things.

Seeing him come in, Batty took the time to wave.

"Are you done with that?" he asked.

"Yeah." Edson nodded, "How far have you come?"

"It's getting to the point where Bernardo is almost pretending to be a pig and rolling around in the mud on the court," teased Batty.

Hearing him say this, the corners of Seat B's mouth dropped several degrees.

Batty twitched his eyebrows: "Don't act like I'm bullying you, it was you who wanted to play this."

"Oh - I told you not to mess with him, why didn't you listen, Bernardo?" Ederson shook his head and sighed pretentiously, "As someone at the bottom of the food chain, how dare you catch the attention of Batistuta, who is at the top? He will crush you to the ground."

"I didn't provoke him, it was just a normal fight, and I didn't lose badly." Sean B was still being stubborn.

"Really?" Batty drawled, then pointed to the camera in the corner, "Did you forget that we are going to shoot a documentary this season? There are cameras everywhere in the club. We didn't lose badly? Why don't we go and verify it?"

Seat B: …

And you said you didn’t bully me!
"To borrow Kyle's words - when you are in the crematorium and your whole body turns to ash, your mouth will still be hard." Batty waved his hand disdainfully and called Ederson over. "Come too, help him and practice your footwork. Don't become Karius II. Benzema is a bit of a metaphysical person."

"The two of us against you? You're just--just trying to act like a pig on the field, right?"

"No one in the club can beat me in table football." Batty hooked his finger at him, "Or are you afraid that even with Ederson, we can't beat me?"

Seat B was as angry as a boiling kettle.

He rolled up his sleeves and pulled Edson to stand: "Come on!"

……

"So who wins in the end?"

De Bruyne sat on the sofa next to Batistuta. Tomorrow is the second leg of the Champions League semi-final, and they will face Roma at home, but before that, captain Kompany organized them to watch the game between Liverpool and Real Madrid together.

"About this -" Batty did not give a clear answer. He smiled mysteriously and shook his index finger in front of his lips. "In two days, when we get the Premier League trophy in the last round, you will know."

De Bruyne looked at him for a few seconds and then stopped asking questions.

The familiar UEFA Champions League theme song came from the TV. The game was about to begin. Batistuta found a comfortable position and leaned on him.

The Belgian midfielder glanced around quietly. Most people's attention was on the screen, while others were staring at their phones, either browsing social apps or chatting.

It's a good opportunity.

De Bruyne raised the corners of his mouth in satisfaction.

But just as he was about to quietly put his arm around Batistuta's waist and hold his hand, Lucas suddenly appeared. Like a dog who couldn't bear to see his master and mistress hugging and had to squeeze in between to enjoy the love, the French central defender was particularly unreasonable and sat down on the sofa with less than 5 centimeters between them.

I also picked up a large bag of Lays potato chips and ate them with a crunch.

"Who do you think will win this time?" Lucas asked naturally, as if he didn't notice anything wrong.

De Bruyne: …

It doesn't matter who wins, what matters is that he wants to slap you right now and send you straight off the couch back to Spain.

Compared to De Bruyne who was almost furious, Batistuta calmly accepted Lucas in the middle. He moved to the side to make room, then reached out and took two chips from Lucas' bag and put them into his mouth.

"I hope Real Madrid wins, but today we're playing at Anfield, Klopp brought on Mignolet as goalkeeper, and they have an away goal - who knows," he said.

Lucas nodded in agreement, "Me too."

"-Liverpool will win." De Bruyne deliberately said the opposite. He stared at the bag of potato chips in Lucas' arms for a long time, and resolutely reached out and grabbed a handful.

"Kevin!" Batty's eyes widened. "Why did you take so much? You don't like potato chips."

You don't like potato chips, you like corn chips, De Bruyne thought to himself, "I've started to like it recently." He said as he hurriedly put the puffed food into his mouth, "The momentum at Anfield is extraordinary. They only need two goals to advance to the final. Klopp and his players will be very lucky."

The best way to prevent Batistuta from coming into contact with Lucas' hand while taking the chips was to destroy all the chips as quickly as possible, a brilliant plan from Kevin De Bruyne, the master tactician.

Lucas seemed completely unfazed by De Bruyne and Batistuta's sweet bickering, his eyes seemed to be glued to the TV screen.

"Oh--"

There were exclamations in the Manchester City lounge. Real Madrid was ahead, and the goal was scored by Toni Kroos. He received a pass from his teammate and made a signature low shot in the midfield. Mignolet failed to react in time, and the ball hit the post and rolled into the net.

"He's in really good form," Batty said. "I hope he can keep it up. I'm also thinking about playing against them (Germany) in the World Cup and giving them back everything we've suffered before."

In less than 15 minutes, Real Madrid took the lead 1-0 away from home, the total score was 4-1, and Liverpool's hopes of advancing were slim.

Batistuta lost the desire to continue watching. He licked his fingers, took out his phone from his pocket and started to check the news. There was really nothing new happening in the football world recently. Batistuta clicked on his godfather's homepage and began to like each post.

Just then, a green software that had not been used for a long time sent a message reminder.

It was Qiaolin. She sent him a link, and when he clicked on it, he found a website written entirely in French.

Batty: ?
Qiaolin: I think you should see this
Qiaolin: Your boyfriend is about to become someone else's
Batty: ?
Batty: Do you think I learned French naturally because I stayed in England for so long?
Qiaolin: Oh, I sent it to the wrong person.
Qiaolin: It’s this [link]

Batty clicked on it, and the page automatically jumped to YouTube, and the content of the video was -

442: An Interview with Kylian Mbappé

Batistuta: Why did you send me the interview with Mbappe?
Qiaolin: Please finish reading before you speak.
Batty rolled his eyes and turned on the speed playback. He couldn't understand French, but fortunately there was a Portuguese translator in the video room, which was a great help.

"Neymar is a world-class player. I can learn quickly around him. I like my relationship with Neymar now, just like brothers," Mbappe said. "He is very nice and likes to joke. Although we don't speak the same language very well, it doesn't affect the happy time we spend together."

Batty: ?
Happy hour?

Then the video went black as if it was cut off, and then half a second later jumped to another interview, this time the protagonist was Neymar.

The interview should have been recent. Neymar was wearing Paris' training suit and his muscle gain was obvious.

"He (Mbappe) is always happy and radiates happiness to everyone around him. He enjoys the game like a happy child. He needs more experience and I am willing to help him," Neymar said.

Then the reporter outside the camera asked him a question that was a little difficult to answer but of great concern to the outside world: "Everyone knows that you have a good relationship with Batistuta in the national team. He plays as a right winger like Kylian. In your opinion, what are the differences between the two of them? Who do you prefer to play with?"

"They are different types of players playing the same position. In some ways they are similar (Bati:?). Both are young and very strong. I can't tell you who I like more. They give me different feelings, but both can bring happiness." Neymar replied with a smile.

Batty narrowed his eyes.

Like Mbappe?
Can they all bring you happiness?

Good answer, Ney. This answer shows high EQ and good balance.

……

Qiaolin: Have you finished reading it? Batty: Yes
Qiaolin: No feelings at all?
Batty: No
Batistuta: What does it have to do with me if he likes Mbappe?
Batistuta: Maybe the Frenchman gave him more happiness
Batty: I don't care
Batty: Let him go
Looking at the messages that kept coming to the screen, expressing that she didn't care at all about the relationship between Neymar and Mbappe, Li Qiaolin sighed with contentment.

what--

He was jealous.

But he didn't say.

He is so cute.

He loves him so much.

The CP I'm supporting is real!
……

"I rely on!!"

Lucas' voice directly pulled Batty out of his fantasy world. He looked up at the screen, and just as he couldn't control himself from typing and complaining, the game between Liverpool and Real Madrid quietly changed.

Salah scored 3 goals in 2 minutes!
Liverpool overtook the score 2-1, and the total score was 4-3!

"Just one more goal!" Lucas excitedly hugged Batistuta's neck and shouted, "If Liverpool scores one more goal, Real Madrid will be eliminated!"

"Don't you want Real Madrid to win?" Batistuta complained in a low voice, then pushed Lucas away with disgust. He opened Neymar's private chat interface and sent him the video link that Jolin had just sent him.

There will be a reply in seconds.

Neymar Jr: What?
Batty: Look at this.
Batistuta: You think highly of Mbappé, don't you?
Neymar Jr: This is - an interview?
Neymar Jr: What happened?
Batty: Nothing, I just saw

Neymar Jr: Oh! Of course I prefer to be with you!
Neymar Jr: Kylian is a club teammate
Neymar Jr: I can't say bad things about him
Neymar Jr: This reporter is a jerk, don't pay any attention to him
Tsk, Killianha.

Batistuta curled his lips and snorted twice, then threw his phone away. No matter how it vibrated on the ground, he didn't reply. He curled back on the sofa, stretched his legs across Lucas and De Bruyne, and then concentrated on watching the game between Real Madrid and Liverpool.

……

60 minutes into the second half, Liverpool suffered a heavy blow.

Liverpool had the ball on the sideline in the frontcourt, Salah retreated to receive the ball, Ramos chased him all the way, Isco came from the middle to help, and together with Ramos, he double-teamed Salah.
Unable to increase the distance, Salah could only stop the ball with his head with difficulty. The ball bounced out and landed at a position far away from the body. Salah and Ramos squeezed to chase the ball.

"He couldn't get the ball past Ramos," Batistuta said. "What about his teammates? Liverpool's support was slow, otherwise Salah could have easily taken the ball away."

"Yes, this is a point that can be exploited." Lucas and Batistuta look at the problem from different angles, "But if I don't catch him like Ramos, it's easy to fall. Injury is a small matter. The most important thing is that I might get a red card."

"This - this is aimed at people!" Batistuta opened his eyes wide and pointed at the entangled arms of Ramos and Salah. "Normally, when fighting for the ball, you push your opponent away. What is Ramos doing? Is he a nutcracker? How can he push and pull at the same time?"

As a striker like Salah, Batistuta couldn't tolerate such actions.

Go for the ball, get hurt, that's fine.

Going at people and getting hurt is not okay.

While Batistuta was speaking, Ramos lost his balance, but the two men's arms were still entangled, so the next second after Ramos fell to the ground, Salah also fell heavily to the ground.

"What the hell! No card? Why not?" Batistuta jumped up from the sofa. "Sergio Ramos! You'd better make it to the final! You dare to do this to a striker's shoulder, I will make you pay the price!"

B Silva came over and patted Batistuta on the shoulder. "Don't get excited, Batistuta," he said. "This is terrible, but no one can change it. It's not a foul, and the referee won't give him a card."

Of course Batty knew this, but it didn't stop him from being angry.

I don't know if it was because he was venting out his anger towards Neymar just now.

"He's about to tear Salah's shoulder off! WWE doesn't do that!" Batistuta grinned at the close-up of Ramos on the screen. "Wait until the final, I'll think of a good way to deal with you, dear Ramos."

But in a football match, you can never guess what the outcome will be until the last minute.

93 minutes into the game, Liverpool still maintained a 2-1 lead and were trailing 3-4 in the aggregate score. They were about to see Real Madrid advance to the final, when Firmino stood up.

Corner for Liverpool.

This should be the last one. Wait for the corner kick to be taken, rush for the ball in front of the goal, send the ball back to the midfield, and the referee should blow the whistle.

But it was this corner kick that made Real Madrid relax. Firmino rushed out from behind Ramos, bent his body, and sent the ball into the goal guarded by Navas with an unsightly header.

"Ohhhhhh! The ultimate kill!"

"3-1! Liverpool escaped death!"

"No, it's not a buzzer beater. Now it's 4-4. Both teams have an away goal. We have to play overtime."

"Oh my god, I can't believe it."

Batistuta completely left the sofa, stood in front of the TV, folded his arms and stared at the screen. Real Madrid and Liverpool were going to play overtime, which was good news for them. No matter who won in the end, it would be a huge drain on their physical strength.

Moreover, if there is no goal in overtime, a penalty kick will be required, which is a double test of the physical and mental health of the players on both sides.

Overall, it is a win-win for Manchester City.

This game is great to watch.

However, Batistuta left the locker room after only watching for 5 minutes, not because he was indifferent to the result of the game, but because Neymar was calling him frantically, and when he didn't answer, he called Ederson and Jesus.

He had no doubt that if he didn't pick up Neymar he might call Guardiola directly.

"What do you want to do!" Batty answered the phone fiercely, "I'm watching the game, don't bother me!"

What he didn't expect was that -

"Listen to me, Batistuta, don't hang up. I have to tell you that you will always be the most important person to me. I'm not just talking about football, you are the most important person in every aspect. Maybe I can't express it, but I have never lied to you. I don't want to go through last year again, so I decided to be honest. I love your soul. It sounds corny, but I'm serious - every time I get close to you, I feel like I'm burning from the bottom of my heart. If you want to leave me, I won't stop you, but please take my heart with you, because without you, there will be nothing left."

Batistuta leaned against the club wall with a huge Manchester City goal behind him.

Rarely, he couldn't utter a single word.

Why is Neymar saying such disgusting things?

"Hey Batistuta! What are you doing? Come on, Liverpool scored! The winning goal!"

"Real Madrid is finished! They have ruined themselves! Our opponent is Liverpool!!"

"Buddy! Buddy? Where are you?"

After shouting for a long time without any response, B had to scratch his head and go back to the room. Edson nudged him with his shoulder and then handed him half an opened bag of dried vegetables.

"What is Batty doing?" he asked. "Just now I saw him grabbing his phone and running out. He seemed very angry. The screen was almost blurry."

"I don't know." B Sean shook his head blankly and grabbed a dried carrot and put it in his mouth. "I only saw Batistuta leaning against the wall and making a video call with someone. He looked like he was about to cry."

Ederson raised his eyebrows: "Bati? Are you about to cry? Do you think I'm easy to fool?"

"I'm not lying to you. Barty was about to cry. I saw tears in his eyes and his skin turned red." B席 explained seriously, "To be honest, I can't believe it. Barty doesn't look like a sentimental person at all."

"Really?" Ederson was skeptical. He bit a piece of broccoli hard. It tasted terrible. He spat twice and suddenly remembered something. He stretched out his legs and squeezed B 席, "Hey, do you think it has something to do with the national team and the World Cup?"

"Ah? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just now before Batistuta went out, Neymar frantically called me and Jesus." Ederson leaned over to whisper in B's ear, "He kept looking for Batistuta, and he looked quite anxious."

"Then why did Batistuta cry outside the World Cup?"

"Uh, you've got me stumped."

B Silva looked down on his friend and said, "Use your brain, Eddie. Brazil will definitely take Batistuta to the World Cup in Russia. Is there any better player on the right wing than him?" He said, "And even if we don't take him, it's not Neymar who will tell him. And - with Batistuta's temper, if he knew he wasn't going to play in the World Cup, he would definitely make a scene."

That made sense, and Edson nodded.

"Besides this, what else would make Batistuta cry?" he asked dazedly. Imagining Batistuta crying silently, Ederson felt his heart suddenly ache.

"I don't know," Seat B shrugged, "Maybe the pet died?"

"what??"

"That's all I said."

Just as B Silva and Ederson were arguing, Batistuta pushed the door open and walked in. There was no sign of crying on his face, and he was even smiling.

"Oh wow! Liverpool beat Real Madrid! This season's Champions League final is - a civil war in the Premier League! I'm really looking forward to it!"

Ederson touched his nose a little embarrassedly and attacked B Silva with his elbow.

"You are really deceiving me!"

……

Where no one could see, Batty quietly used a pillow to cover up his gasping movements and uncomfortable expression.

When is the World Cup?

(End of this chapter)