[Football] Bad Boy Batty

The overtime was about to begin and the captains of both teams were flipping a coin with the referee, while the others were taking every opportunity to rest.

Theoretically, there is no rest time in between, but most referees will give players a few minutes to receive a massage or drink water.

Batty took the bottle of water handed to him by the assistant coach and poured it over his head, trying his best to calm himself down.

Such a result was a little hard for him to accept, because his Santos had almost no rivals in the Brazilian League. Even if they fell behind at the beginning, they were able to turn the situation around in the end thanks to Batistuta's outstanding talent and skills trained over many years.

Falling behind is not scary, what is scary is the mentality of remaining behind in the subsequent games.

Batistuta shook the water droplets from his hair and walked towards the bench with his empty water bottle.

Sudden--

"Oh hi!"

The figure standing up in the audience in front of him made Barty completely freeze in place.

The dark-skinned man put his hand to his mouth to make a microphone shape: "This game is not difficult. Everyone is exhausted in overtime. You just need to seize the opportunity and start from the weakest point. I think the tall and thin white guy is good. He can turn a century. Block his position!"

Damn it, when did Ronaldinho get here!

Batty's feet seemed to be nailed to the ground.

"Ah! It's Xiao Luo!"
Mikael didn't care about that and quickly asked the players to gather over.

Although Ronaldinho has become increasingly decadent in recent years, he was once the king of football. The major competitions he experienced are what these young players may have to look up to for the rest of their lives.

"What are you waiting for, Barty!" Mikael waved at him, "Come and listen to your father's good advice."

The word 'father' ignited Batty.

"He's not my father!" Batty roared, pushing past his teammates and running over. He waved his hands and said, "Get out! Get out of my sight! You are not welcome here!"

There was a commotion among the Brazilian players, and Mikael was squeezed outside, watching Batistuta rush towards his biological father.

"Stop him!" The head coach's face turned red with anxiety, "Don't let him do it, he will get a card!"

Neymar heard the noise and rushed over, but he was still a step too late. The chaos had already attracted the attention of the referee, who walked over quickly and asked, "What happened, gentlemen?"

At the critical moment, Ederson stopped Batistuta. He used his 6.1-foot height to trap Batistuta in his arms and covered his mouth with his goalkeeper gloves.

"Nothing, Mr. Referee, we are just arranging tactics." Ederson showed his most sincere smile. "As you know, our goalkeeper just strained a muscle. This is not a good situation."

The referee was skeptical about this, but in the end he did not make things difficult for them as the chaos had ended, and only gave them a warning.

After the referee left, all the Brazilians present, including the fans, breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't be impulsive, Batistuta, we are still in the Olympics," Ederson said.

Batistuta patted his hands that were still covering his mouth. He was already trying to suppress his anger because this not-so-bright guy was their only goalkeeper at the moment and he had to be gentle and not let him get hurt.

"Ah!" Edson immediately realized something was wrong and quickly let go of his hand, "Um, sorry."

Batty rolled his eyes at him rudely, said nothing, and turned back to the court.

Ederson wanted to say something, but Batistuta had already walked away, so he could only put down his hand in disappointment.

Neymar, who was standing next to him, saw everything and said, "Don't think about it, just focus on the game." He went over and patted Ederson's arm as a way of comforting him.

See, silly puppies don't always get the nod.

He would never admit that he was secretly happy.

……

With the referee's whistle, the overtime of the Olympic men's football final officially began.

Mikael was yelling and directing the players to run, but his inconsistent instructions made him look a little funny. Batistuta couldn't hear the coach's voice at all, and he was now furious because of Ronaldinho's appearance.

This is not a good sign.

[Bati has the ball, he is about to pass! Oh no, the ball is taken by the German. ]

[Neymar! To Batistuta! Kimmich retreats and passes - no! The ball hits the post.]

[It's Batistuta again... Wait, Batistuta stole the ball from his own team? Oh my god! ]

Taking advantage of a free throw, Neymar ran over to find Batistuta, "Wake up, Batistuta, you will put us in a passive position." He spoke quickly, "I know you hate Ronaldinho, but - don't let him affect your state."

Batty didn't say anything. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and made a reluctant 'don't worry' gesture.

"Don't worry, we still have time." Neymar showed the captain's momentum, "The worst thing is to take a penalty kick. I am still very confident in our penalty kicks."

Batti still didn't say anything, but just kept making gestures to urge the other party to go back quickly.

In the first half of overtime, the score was still 3-3.
……

"Beep——"

When the whistle sounded, the referee immediately went to the sideline to find out what happened. There, a German player and a Brazilian player collided with each other. The German player fell to the ground, holding his calf in pain.

"I didn't touch him! We were fighting for the ball out of bounds, no one committed a foul!" Batty quickly distanced himself and explained his innocence to the referee, "He lay down suddenly, I didn't -"

Before he could finish his words, the angry German players separated from the referee and surrounded him. The leader was Kimmich, the short man with a hot temper. "Try to touch him again!" he shouted.

Batty doesn't understand German, but no matter which country it is, the tone of swearing and conflict is almost the same.

"Stay away from me, Kraut!" He looked up. "I didn't touch him! Do you understand me? I didn't touch him!"

Batistuta was telling the truth, he really did not commit a foul this time. Ronaldinho had confused his brain into a mess and he was in no mood to do any tricks.

"He has cramps!" a German player shouted. "Doctor, quick!"

Neymar came and after a brief understanding of the situation, he went to negotiate with the referee. Barbosa followed and came to Batistuta. He could understand German. "The guy had cramps. It has nothing to do with you." He explained.

Batistuta nodded, then looked at Kimmich: "Did you hear that? Your teammate had cramps, not because of me."

Kimmich had obviously just understood the situation. He touched his nose unnaturally, glanced at Batistuta, and turned back to the other half.

"Hey! Where's my apology?" Batistuta waved his hand at Kimmich's back, "This unreasonable boy!"

"He's older than you. Did you read the pre-match information carefully?" Barbosa patted Batistuta's chest to calm him down. "Don't worry about it. The game is important. We have to keep scoring goals." Neymar finished the negotiation and came over. "He's right, Batistuta." He pulled Batistuta to his side without leaving a trace, hooked his neck and rubbed his hair. "Let's go. We still have more goals to score."

……

Having said that, Batistuta still couldn't let go of the irritation in his heart. Every time he touched the ball, the past scenes would appear in front of his eyes.

His mother was still alive at that time. She would gently hold his hand, point to the happy Barcelona player on TV and teach him to say "Dad".

But as the ball was passed to his teammates, the scene in front of Batistuta's eyes turned into a cemetery. His godfathers were comforting him, but he, who was only a few years old, had already run out of tears.

He felt hot, yet cold.

Ronaldinho, you——

"Hey! Barty! Look over here!"

The bad memories were interrupted by a loud call. Batistuta looked towards the audience and saw Loach. He was standing on a chair, holding a large piece of cardboard with Batista's name written on it with colored pens.

"Go! Show the Germans some color! You are the best, the strongest!" The dark-skinned boy jumped around like a grasshopper, "Go! Batistuta! We Rocinha people are not afraid of anything! Go! Bring back the gold medal!"

Batty couldn't describe how he felt.

It was like someone dragged you into a warm, dry room in the pouring rain and covered you with a blanket. Buddy's rapid breathing suddenly slowed down, and he realized what a stupid thing he had just done.

He shouldn't have ruined himself for Ronaldinho.

He is not alone, he also has loach.

"The fans love you, they believe in you, so, Batistuta - " Neymar's voice brought him back to the field, "Do you know what you should do?"

Now Batty not only got a warm, dry room and a blanket, he also got a cup of hot tea.

Maybe he has more than just loaches.

Looking around, he had so many teammates, and they had the same goal.

The flamboyant smile returned to Batty's face. He brushed his hair back and the light reappeared in his blue eyes.

"I'm fine, Captain."

Neymar raised his eyebrows. This was the first time Batistuta called him captain. "Are you okay?" he asked with concern.

"I'm in great shape," Batistuta said with a smile, giving Neymar a hug. "And now I know what I should do. Let's go and score more goals!"

[There are 6 minutes left and the game will go to penalty kicks. My boys, let's see if they can create a miracle.]

Miracle?

To describe it as a miracle is almost not enough.

Batty finding himself again can almost be described as terrifying.

[Bati! Oh! His movement is more flexible... beautiful pass, the ball is transferred to the other side, what just happened? ]

Batty discovered a large gap, and at that moment, he had already formulated a complete plan of advance in his mind.

"Maki!" he called out, "Over there!"

Neymar also found the gap that Batistuta mentioned, and he quickly moved to the side tacitly. Of course, the ball would not be passed to him. He was just a cover to create space for Batistuta and take away the bait of the defensive players.

Sure enough, the Germans took the bait.

Marquinhos fooled the German defender with a feint.

"Oh no!" Kimmich opened his eyes wide, "Go back! Go back quickly!"

But it was too late. Just when they were guarding Neymar tightly, the ball was passed to Batistuta. It was an extremely fast straight pass. He stopped the ball with his left foot, then turned around and switched to his right foot, blocking the position of the German defender, picked up the ball, and then shot.

[Go, go, go! 4-3! Batistuta! The gold medal is ours! Perfect lob and shot. Oh my god, I haven't seen such a spectacular goal in years! Let's shout out his name together - Batistuta!]

After scoring the goal, the Brazilian players did not take too much time to celebrate, as they knew that the situation could change at any time until the last minute of the game.

But obviously Batty doesn't think so.

For him, this one goal was not enough.

[Here we go again! It’s our Batistuta! Neymar passes the ball—the goalkeeper comes out! It’s an empty goal! The ball goes in! No one knows what happened. The Brazilian team seemed to be half asleep in the second half, but they finally woke up in overtime, 5-3! ]

Batty supported himself on his knees and gasped for breath. This kind of running was indeed quite intense, but fortunately, his adrenaline supported him.

"Can we continue?"

He looked up and it was Neymar, who was holding out his hand to him and smiling brightly.

Batty smiled.

"Come!"

……

[Another time! Oh my god, Batista broke the Olympic goal record. He must be a gift from God to Brazil! Praise you, Batistuta!] The commentator cried excitedly. I believe there are many Brazilian fans at the scene who were like him. [This is Brazil! Look at us, Germany, look at us! Don't stop, keep going!]

Of course it will continue.

At the end of the game, Ederson received a return pass. He wanted to kick the ball slowly to delay time, but in the vast crowd, he saw Batistuta in the frontcourt at a glance. Batistuta's eyes were shining, full of emotions that were difficult to describe in words.

So Ederson kicked the ball so quickly, he didn't know how he passed it to Batistuta so accurately, as if there was a mysterious force behind it.

There were no Germans around and the space was very large, but Batistuta was too lazy to adjust. He stretched his posture completely, then volleyed the ball, which hit the goalkeeper's arm and hit the crossbar and deflected into the net.

【Goooooal!! I can't believe my eyes! 7-3! Only 6 minutes, 4 goals! Batistuta made history! 】

The German team completely lost hope. The Brazilian fans in the stadium were so excited that they burst into tears. They had never been so happy since the shame in 2014!

Batty just stood there, with his arms outstretched, in the same pose as the Jesus statue.

The light shone on him like a new king ascending the throne.

(End of this chapter)