[Football] Bad Boy Batty

Won?

Neymar couldn't believe it was real, he held his knees and gasped, his ears were filled with breathing sounds. It wasn't until his teammates rushed over and hugged him that the membrane suddenly broke, and the cheers rushed into his brain in an instant.

"We won?" Neymar asked in a daze.

"We won! We won!" Barbosa's face was filled with tears of joy. "We won the gold medal! We are the Olympic champions!"

Through the crowd, Neymar saw the coaching staff hugging each other and sharing their joy. Looking up, he saw the crazy Brazilian fans. Everywhere he looked, everyone in yellow was celebrating.

But soon, Neymar thought of a problem.

"Where's the ball?" he asked loudly.

"Here it is!" Ederson held up the match ball. "We should keep it!"

This is not what Neymar had in mind.

"No, it should be given to Batistuta," he said. "Bati won the game. He scored five goals by himself. If it weren't for him, I would have - wait, where's Batistuta?"

The young players of the Brazilian Olympic team turned their heads to look around, but unfortunately, no one saw the elf-like figure. Barbosa didn't think so. He and Batistuta were club teammates, and he knew what would happen next.

But Neymar didn't listen to Barbosa. He squeezed out from the center of his teammates, holding the ball in one hand and putting the other hand to his mouth, shouting Batistuta's name loudly.

Soon, through the gaps in the crowd, he spotted Batty's light-colored hair.

The boy stood facing the audience, still maintaining the sacred posture of the statue of Jesus. In the center of the noisy and jubilant stadium, he seemed particularly prominent and particularly - lonely.

Neymar felt uncomfortable.

Batistuta lacks trust to the point that he is unwilling to share the joy of winning the championship with him...them.

"Bati, Batistuta! Come on!" Neymar waved his hand to try to attract Batistuta's attention. "I brought you your ball. You scored five goals in a single game, and it's the final. You must keep it!"

Batty seemed to have heard his voice, and he retracted his posture and was about to turn his head -

"Hey! Barty! Look who I brought!"

Accompanied by whistles and noise, Loach led a group of handsome men and beautiful women wearing No. 9 Batistuta jerseys into the field. They surrounded Batistuta in the middle, and with a "bang", several fireworks scattered. Those people celebrated his victory with kisses and sweet words.

The honey-skinned boy's area suddenly became bustling, and now even if he turned his head he couldn't see Neymar.

Neymar looked at Batistuta, who was smiling brightly and almost overwhelmed, and he felt that he could neither advance nor retreat.

"I told you not to worry." Barbosa patted Neymar on the shoulder with an experienced tone, "When we were at the club, whenever Batistuta scored a goal, it was like this after the game, and that was almost every game."

Several substitute players looked envious as they listened to Barbosa's story.

"Come on, Nai, let's go find the coach." Oscar said, "It's time to present the awards. I remember he said he had some instructions."

Neymar didn't move. He stared at Batistuta in the crowd with a gloomy expression.

Ederson followed his gaze and saw a tall white boy hugging Batty from behind, with his chin resting on his neck, one hand on his shoulder, and the other at his belly button, tending downwards.

"The award ceremony can wait, I have an idea." Neymar lowered his eyelids. Even through his jersey, the scene just now made him quite annoyed. "Let's lift him up. Batistuta scored 5 goals and is the biggest contributor." He suggested.

In the National Olympic Team, Neymar's proposals have never been rejected.

A group of young men who had just won the championship, led by Neymar, rushed into the crowd of beauties, lifted Batistuta up, and threw him into the air before he could react.

"Hey! You guys-"

Batistuta opened his eyes wide in surprise. Neymar gave him a wicked smile and then instructed everyone to increase the force of the throw.

Luckily, Loach thought it was a good idea too.

Looking at the growing team, Batty grinned and let himself enjoy the crowd's attention. "Never mind, this is good too."

Where Batistuta couldn't see, Neymar easily squeezed away the tall white boy and stepped on him a few times.

After doing all this, he raised his chin proudly.

Humph, I told you not to touch me.

……

Compared to the Brazilian team that won the championship, the atmosphere on the German team's side was much worse, but the worst thing was not that they lost the game, but that they not only lost the game, but also had to stay on the court until the award ceremony was over before they could return to the locker room.

There is nothing more uncomfortable than being forced to watch your opponents celebrate.

"I think you should go and exchange jerseys with him," Gnabry whispered in Kimmich's ear, "and apologize at the same time."

"Huh? Who are you talking about?" Kimisi asked back with a frown.

"Who else could it be? Brazil's No.9, Batista," Gnabry said.

Following the direction of his friend's finger, Kimmich saw Batistuta being lifted up to celebrate. He shrugged his nose again in an unnatural manner, with a look of rejection on his face.

"I'm not going," he said. "You know, I never ask anyone to trade jerseys with me."

"But you misunderstood him and pushed him," Gnabry said. "This is the Olympics and the whole world is watching."

"He pushed me too, why don't you say that."

"Okay, that's what I said." Gnabry shrugged. "As for how to do it, you decide."

Although he refuted it verbally, Kimmich couldn't help but look for Batista. To be honest, Batista is indeed a good player and it is very difficult to defend him.

Unfortunately, there seemed to be some dispute on the Brazilian team's side. The players and coaches were in a mess, and Batistuta was in the middle, and it seemed that he was the one who caused it.

However, Batistuta did not admit that it was the Football Association's fault.

"I refuse. There is no doubt about it. I won't use us as a pawn to boycott China." Barty crossed his arms and sarcastically said, "Last time at the Olympics, we used Nike. Why didn't you ask us to hide the hooks?"

Mikael was quite helpless about this. "Don't be so cold to me, Batistuta. The Football Association asked us to cover the logo of our sponsor (Peak) during the awards ceremony. What can I do?" The head coach sighed, "Just think of it as my own business. Be obedient, okay?"

Barty still shook his head. "This is non-negotiable. The Chinese saved my life, so I won't be a traitor." He said, "If you insist on not covering it up, then fine, I can choose not to accept the award. It's just a gold medal anyway."

Gold medal, that's all?

Mikael's eyes went dark.

What did he do wrong to deserve a player like Batistuta?

"Bati is right, we can't do this. We will cause international disputes, and the sponsors are negotiated by the Olympic Committee. Doing this is equivalent to slapping them in the face." Neymar stood up to support Batistuta. "Me too, if you have to do this, I will also refuse to accept the award."

As Neymar expressed his stance, more people came forward to join them.

Mikaler pinched his temple hard, and had no choice but to give up the Football Association's request.

Batistuta looked at Neymar with a hint of surprise, then nudged him with his elbow: "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Neymar smiled. Of course he would be willing as long as it was you.

……

Returning to the player tunnel with the gold medal, Batistuta unexpectedly ran into Kimmich. The German seemed a little nervous when he saw him, and before he could ask any questions, he pulled his jersey by the collar.

Batty raised an eyebrow.

Are you going to - change your jerseys?
"Here you go." Kimmich said in broken English, "I'm sorry, I was wrong on the court just now."

However, he miscalculated one thing. Not only did Batistuta not know German, he also spoke very little English.

What's more, Kimmich's English is not that good, it's full of German accent, and people from English-speaking countries have to listen for a while to distinguish it, let alone Batistuta.

But at least I understood the gestures.

"I'll just assume you're here to apologize." Batistuta pursed his lips and took off his jersey. "It's all for the team. I understand you."

After changing sides, he gave the German a polite hug, put on his jersey and walked back to the locker room, leaving Kimmich alone in the corridor, looking at the yellow Brazil jersey in his hand, wondering what he was thinking.

……

After seeing off the people from the Sports Department, the players of the Brazilian Olympic team went to a famous nightclub in Rio that night. The party continued and they opened dozens of bottles of champagne, of course, all for Neymar.

Neymar has no interest in alcohol. For him, it is just a condiment before dancing.

And today, today he didn't feel like dancing.

Neymar ordered a glass of whiskey and coke and drank it slowly on the stage. Looking not far away, he saw Batistuta who was not dancing. There is no age limit in Rio. Batistuta ordered the strongest mixed liquor and poured it into his mouth cup by cup while lying on the stage.

"Don't get yourself drunk, I don't want to help you back again." Neymar joked, "When you're drunk, you're heavier than Luis Suarez."

Batty blew some bubbles and waved his hands in a daze: "Nonsense, I'm not drunk."

"Okay, you're not drunk," Neymar said, trying not to laugh. "But if you continue, if Ronaldinho suddenly appears, I'm not sure you can avoid it."

Batty's hand holding the wine glass was fixed in the air for a long time, and then he put the glass down with a pout. "Okay, okay, you've successfully ruined my interest."

He grumbled and shook his hands, then suddenly leaned over to Neymar. "By the way, aren't you mad at me?"

Neymar was stunned: "Why should I be angry with you?"

"Because I stole your limelight," Batty laughed drunkenly. "And the Golden Boot was originally yours."

Neymar coughed twice at the smell of alcohol. "No, there's nothing to be angry about." He took the gold medal out of his pocket and kissed it. "The important thing is this, it's Brazil. Look, our first Olympic gold medal for men's football."

Batistuta blinked, he didn't expect Neymar to say that.

He thought he would pretend to be angry, and then the two of them would have a fight and the matter would be over.

"Pooh, thank you." Batty also picked up Neymar's gold medal and kissed it, "You are right, the gold medal is the most important."

Then he picked up his glass and clinked it with Neymar's Coke and whiskey.

"To the champion."

……

At almost 2 a.m., the celebration party was coming to an end, and the players of the Brazilian Olympic team all stood up, linked their arms around each other, and formed a circle to sing in chorus.

All the guys who were drunk and staggering tried to stand up, including Batistuta, but he was almost supported by Neymar.

To his left was Barbosa, who looked very excited, but might have been happier without Barty in the middle.

As they were singing, someone mentioned the player, and the big speakers began to play soft and ambiguous music.

Batistuta gradually tilted his head on Neymar's shoulder. As the beat of the music slowed down, the production of adrenaline also slowed down. He yawned and tried to make himself more awake.

The warm breath spreading down makes it hard not to think too much.

But just when Neymar was in a trance, he heard Batistuta whisper in his ear: "I'm a little sleepy, why don't we sneak out, call Loach, and go to Bailando. I heard there are new people there."

The warm feeling disappeared.

"We are celebrating the team's victory, why are you always thinking about drinking wine?" Neymar kicked Batistuta's calf in anger. "I thought you should at least understand what team spirit is after winning this championship."

Now Batistuta is also angry. "I kindly invited you to play in Bailando, and you said I don't have team spirit." He pushed Neymar away and said, "Okay, I'll go. There will always be someone willing to go with me."

After a while, Batistuta and Ederson disappeared from the party.

Now Neymar is unhappy.

(End of this chapter)