[Football] Bad Boy Batty

"You really shouldn't have told me this in advance, Kevin. Now there's no surprise at all."

It was almost 10 o'clock in the morning when Manchester City players finished their warm-up training and returned to the lounge. There were still five days between the end of the Club World Cup and the Ballon d'Or, which gave them the luxury of a relaxing training week in the middle of the busy season.

De Bruyne returned to train with the team. Batistuta and half of the club held a small welcome ceremony for him. Everyone went out for dinner and sang songs. De Bruyne got a slightly ugly cake. Although Batistuta repeatedly denied that it was definitely not made by him, anyone with eyes could see that he was lying.

Then in training they stuck together like taffy.

All signs indicate that the tension between Batty and Kevin is a thing of the past. No one is so tactful as to bring this matter to the table and everyone knows it.

"Well, at least you got time to write your speech in advance," De Bruyne said. He leaned on a yoga ball and turned to look at Batistuta, who was taking off the stretching band next to him. "You are about to reach the pinnacle of personal honor before your 20th birthday. How do you feel?"

This is the place that belongs to the two of them. He still remembers that he used to do hip thrusts here. The little bastard deliberately proposed to replace the barbell to give him visual and physical stimulation. When Neymar first came, this place was briefly abandoned for a while, and now they are back.

"Feelings? What feelings can I have?" Batistuta threw the auxiliary belt aside, stood up and thought about it, then personally changed De Bruyne's position, and he lay comfortably in the other's arms.

"I don't care about this trophy. Even if you tell me that I can collect as many Ballon d'Ors as Cristiano Ronaldo and Messi combined in the future, I still don't care." The little king said disdainfully, "Compared to the podium, I prefer the feeling of blood boiling when fighting on the court. You understand what I mean, right, Kevin?"

"Of course." De Bruyne reached into Batistuta's light-colored hair, which was a little long. Although it would block his vision during the game, it looked very nice when spread out on the pillow or bed sheet. De Bruyne lowered his head, trying not to let his eyes stay on Batistuta's neck, which looked like it was missing something.

Memories flashed through his mind uncontrollably, and when he put his hand on it, he could clearly feel the wild vitality. The Belgian midfielder didn't understand why Batistuta liked this, but he chose not to ask, because he was not sure what kind of behavior would destroy the balance they had worked so hard to find.

"I'm following the Club World Cup. Do you know what the fans call it?" De Bruyne asked.

"what?"

"It's a battle of proof for the little king," De Bruyne said. "They say you slapped some people in the face. The former Brazilian Rose is a well-deserved thigh and their eternal king."

"That's really nice."

Batty showed little interest. "I thought you didn't care," he said.

"I don't usually care about the verbal battles between fans, but the title was about you, so I clicked on it," De Bruyne said, and he finally couldn't help but put his hand on Batistuta's throat. Batistuta noticed something and looked up at him. "I'm making meatballs and spaghetti tonight," he said suddenly.

Batty curled his eyes and said, "Okay, then I will accept the invitation and enjoy the food."

At this time, B席, Lucas, and Walker pushed the door open while chatting. The three were arguing fiercely about something. The Portuguese midfielder stopped first, glanced around the gym, and selected one of the sticky candies that was sticking to it.

B席 waved his hand: "Hey Batty! These two guys want to challenge me! Come and help us, let's show him who is the table football team in the club!"

"Huh?" Batty raised an eyebrow. "Luki and Kyle? Challenge you? Table football?"

He asked three questions in a row.

"What? Are you two crazy?" Batty asked one last joking question.

"What are you talking about?" Kyle Walker crossed his arms. "I know Bernardo is strong, and I know you are strong, but now we have Luki, who says we can't kill you?"

Lucas next to him kept nodding in agreement.

"Come on, Batistuta." The French defender waved at him, "Come and try."

Batistuta and B Silva exchanged an incredible look, then he got up from De Bruyne's arms, pinched his knuckles and walked towards the football table in the middle of the room: "Come on, let them see what real skills are."

"Place your bets! Batistuta & Bernardo versus Kyle & Luki! Which team will win?" Aguero, who was riding a bicycle over there, saw that there was fun to be had, and immediately put his hands to his mouth and shouted loudly, "Starting from 50 pounds! Come on! It's a sure win!"

Hidden cameras on the sidelines recorded everything.

The head of the Propaganda Department handed the video to employees with satisfaction. The official accounts of various regions went online almost simultaneously to announce the results of the competition. One can imagine how badly one group lost.

I don’t know if it was a technical failure or something, the official did not cut out the 3-5 seconds of footage before Batistuta stood up, and the sticky relationship between him and De Bruyne could be vaguely seen in the picture.

So a certain website ushered in a wave of carnival.

In another place, a post named "【Li Tao】Is the little king of Manchester City a born child?" was quietly born. Many years later, this hot post that contributed many amazing memes and pictures became a legend through word of mouth, but that's another story.

……

The night before the Golden Globe Awards, just as Batistuta had chosen his dress and was about to lie down and play games to kill time, there was a loud knock on his door.

"Bati-Bati! Which one do you think is better, I should wear this all-black outfit with this brooch, or this white shirt with a tie and a scarf? If you don't like either of these two outfits, I have more options."

Looking at Lucas who was treating the Golden Globe Awards ceremony as a serious challenge, Batistuta rolled his eyes slightly.

Who made him promise this guy to take him to the Golden Globe Awards? He has to take responsibility for what he promised.

"You can wear anything, as long as it's normal. Don't be like Messi in previous years, wearing a burgundy suit. Your face is enough to support it," he said.

"How can I be so casual? This is my first time! And you will definitely win an award this year, and when I go on stage, the camera will be on me. I can't let myself look like an idiot--" The French defender suddenly stopped talking halfway through.

"Like a fool?" Batty replied jokingly, "No need to act like one, you already are one."

But Lucas didn't complain. He smiled foolishly and scratched his hair: "Did you just praise me for being handsome?"

Batty: ...
Batty: "I asked you to dress normally, but you only heard that you look good?"

"Oh, thank you." Lucas smiled shyly, threw away the dress in his hand, ran to Batty and gave him a hug, "I knew you loved me, man."

Batty finally couldn't help but roll his eyes to the sky.

He is not smart when he should be smart, and is always clever when he shouldn't be smart. What can we say about him? The little king laughed at himself for wanting to take Lucas to bed not long ago, and then he gave up the idea. It seems that Silly Dog is better to be just friends.

At this moment, Batti's cell phone suddenly rang, twice at a time, sounding like two text messages were received at the same time.

"What is it?" Lucas came closer with great interest. "Did your godfather prepare a speech for you?"

"No." Batty denied it before even reading the message. "This is not the tone that will be used when you send me a message." He said, "I have set a special ringtone."

"Ah." Lucas uttered a single sound a little dryly, and moved his lips, "I want one too."

Uh-huh?

What do you want?
Special ringtone?
Batty gave him a look that said, "Listen to yourself, is this reasonable?" Then he ignored him, unlocked his phone, and opened the text message.

He was a little surprised by the source of the letter.

One from Ronaldo and the other from Messi.

[Congratulations on becoming a member of the Ballon d'Or club. I am so happy for you, dear Batistuta, but I am sorry that I cannot be there on the day of the award ceremony because I have to attend an event in Serie A. Congratulations again, and you will achieve greater success in the future. ] - Love you - Cristiano
[Hello Batistuta, my name is Leo. I may not be able to attend the award ceremony tomorrow. Congratulations in advance. I look forward to seeing you next time. ] - Lionel Messi
Batty read the text messages over and over again, and then watched Lucas read the two text messages over and over again. They sat on the sofa together and fell into deep thought for five minutes.

"Luki, what do you think is the probability that they deliberately don't want to go?" Batty asked.

"Very big." Lucas pretended to be serious and said, "I can understand. It has been the two of them for the past 10 years. They have long regarded each other as competitors. This time you intervened, it is possible that they will not want to go to the scene."

Batty kicked Lucas in the calf.

"Come on, you're talking as if I destroyed their important emotional bond." He said contemptuously, "Do you dare to repeat what you just said to A Kun? See if he will beat you or not."

Lucas raised his hands above his head and shrugged to indicate that he was just saying that.

after awhile.

"Maybe you could try," he said.

"Hmm?" Batty looked over. "What did you say?"

"Tell Kun that Messi doesn't want to go." Lucas winked at Batistuta, "I think Kun treats you like a child. If you complain to him that Messi makes you sad, he might rush to Barcelona and twist off Messi's ears."

Batty blinked and immediately conjured up the image in his mind.

He rolled his eyes: "That makes sense."

"Right!" Lucas was quite proud, "Quick! Forward it to him!"

Batistuta thought about it and felt that this was not fun enough. "Let's add one more," he smiled like Mona Lisa. "Based on yours, I made another decision. I sent Ronaldo's text message to Kaka and then 'cried' to him that the Portuguese didn't even go to my awards ceremony. What do you think of this?"

"Cough cough cough cough!" Lucas choked on his own saliva. He glared at Batty and gave him a thumbs up. "You're amazing, Batty. This is a genius idea."

Batty raised an eyebrow at him smugly.

The two of them discussed how to make it clear that Ronaldo/Messi did not want to go to the award ceremony while making themselves look pitiful without appearing too deliberate.

Ten minutes later, two text messages full of the smell of tea were edited and sent to Aguero and Kaka's mobile phones respectively.

A quarter of an hour later, Ronaldo received a text message saying that he had misread the schedule and would definitely arrive on time to attend this year's Golden Globe Awards ceremony, and that he would thank Batistuta very much at that time.

Batistuta could imagine the other party's gnashing teeth as he typed. The poor Portuguese even typed the wrong letters in "award ceremony" in his excitement.

About 7 or 8 minutes later, Messi called.

"You won, Batistuta. I will go to the award ceremony." Messi's voice was full of helplessness. Obviously, he saw through Batistuta's trick. "Please tell Kun that I don't hate you, nor am I tired of being compared to others. It was my team's decision not to attend the award ceremony. Now I will talk to the person in charge and change my schedule."

After the call, Batty threw his phone on the sofa and he and Lucas looked at each other.

A few seconds later, loud laughter broke out in the room and scared Loach, who was passing by the door, so much that he almost dropped his coffee cup.

……

At the same time, on the other side of Manchester, Neymar was standing in the living room, looking at his phone which always showed "Calling, please call back later", completely confused.

"It shouldn't be like this." Neymar said to himself.

"Isn't it obvious, brother?" Ganso sat on the sofa with his legs crossed. "That kid blocked you. Last time I forgot my girlfriend's birthday, she did the same to me."

"But I didn't do anything." Neymar frowned, and he looked at his sister on the other side of the sofa. Normally, she would not be here at this time. "Hey Rafina," he tried to speak, "Do you know what's going on?"

"What?" Rafina didn't even raise her head.

"Bati blackmailed me," Neymar continued to ask, "Do you know something?"

She took a sip of orange juice and looked at her silly brother dimly.

"Maybe it's because you're a fool," she said.

(End of this chapter)