[Football] Bad Boy Batty

[Good afternoon, friends and listeners of Radio Teresópolis. The America's Cup is about to start in Brazil. Today I will randomly select a few listeners to see what everyone thinks of our boys. ]
[Hi Alex, are you excited about the upcoming America's Cup? ]

[Honestly, man, no.]
【Aren’t you excited? 】

[Yes, I am not so expectant now. It is not that I think we cannot win the championship. On the contrary, I have great trust in these players. They are very good. The days when Neymar led the team alone are gone. Now we have Batistuta. You have seen the performance of this team in the World Cup. I fully believe that they are capable of winning the America's Cup.]
[So...then tell us, what made you feel bad about the America's Cup?]

[I am a little disappointed with the players who represent the Brazilian national team. I think they have good skills and can win top-level championships, but they lack dedication to the country, you know? They don't care, they only care about the results of the club and the money. They don't care whether Brazil has not won the America's Cup for 12 years.]
[Have you read the news? Batistuta doesn't want to come back to play for the America's Cup. He was partying in Manchester yesterday with his teammates. I mean, yes, he is a complete Brazilian, but I don't feel his approval in the game and honors.]
[Okay, then this one...]

'Snapped! '

Neymar changed the radio station and the voice of Brazilian singer Anita spread in the cabin, but it was of no use because everyone could hear clearly what the listener on the radio said just now.

"How dare he complain about me?" Batistuta shook the cards in his hand. "We just finished the Champions League. What does he want? I will go back to Brazil to prepare for the America's Cup right after the Champions League. Will he be satisfied?"

Before the radio show started, he was happily playing cards with Neymar, Jesus, and Ederson, but the listener ruined his good mood.

“Ignore that guy.” Neymar sang louder. “There are people everywhere who don’t know the rules but have trained. They think they know a lot but they know nothing.”

"Yes, don't be angry with Batistuta, your fans will help you teach him a lesson." Jesus shook his fist at him, and then threw out a pair of Qs when no one was paying attention, "Does anyone want to intervene?"

"I—no, forget it." Edson looked at the cards in his hand and shook his head.

"Then I'll do it." Neymar said as he was about to play his card.

"No, let him pass." Batistuta nudged Neymar next to him with his elbow, "What if you walk past now? Any one of them can crush you to death."

"Then you are wrong." Neymar did not listen to Batistuta. He resolutely suppressed Jesus' cards, and then threw away the last pair and bomb under the attention of everyone.

"Haha! I win again!" He stood up and stretched, then held Batty's head with great pride. "You still have a lot to learn about playing cards, dear."

Batistuta slapped his hand away, then reluctantly pulled a roll of banknotes from his pocket and tossed it to him, followed by Ederson and Jesus.

"Thank you." Neymar counted the money while paying attention to Batistuta's condition.

The Manchester City king looked a little listless, so Neymar sat back, took a pillow and let Batistuta lean on him.

"Don't think about what the audience said. I thought you didn't care that much." He put his hand on Barty's forehead and stroked his light-colored hair. "But seriously, you need to get some rest. Did you sleep for five hours last night?"

"Have?"

Barty yawned.

"So--" Edson cleared his throat and held up three fingers to Batty, "What's this, Batty?"

"Go, I'm not that dizzy yet." Batistuta gave him a pair of standard eye rolls, then reached out to mess with Neymar's collar, "I'm fine, and I don't really care about the audience's opinion. He can think whatever he wants. No matter how perfect I am, there will always be people in the world who scold me."

Neymar nodded in agreement.

At this moment, the plane shook violently, the cards on the table scattered all over the floor, and even Batistuta almost rolled off Neymar's legs.

"Oh my God, what's going on?"

Loach ran over and asked, and soon he returned to the cabin.

"It's okay, just a little turbulence." He said, "Get ready, we're almost there."

Batti looked out of the window and the iconic building, Monte Cristo, appeared in front of him not far away, but due to the distance and height, the statue looked so small.

America's Cup.

They are coming.

……

The plane soon landed in the capital of Rio de Janeiro state, and then they took a car to the Granja Comary training base in Teresópolis city. There were many reporters and fans at the door, and Tite and his coaching staff were there to welcome them.

After signing autographs for the fans, several people followed the team manager to the accommodation building inside the base. It was no different from 2016. Although not as luxurious as the Etihad training base, it was very warm.

"We have arranged separate accommodation for each player this year," the administrator said. "It's still the same. The keys will be given to you later. Just go upstairs. There are posters with your names on the outside of the door."

"I don't like living alone," Neymar said. "Can I give up my room and move in with Batistuta?"

The administrator was stunned. He was new this year and obviously didn't expect the relationship between these two people to be so good.

"Sure," he said, "if Barty's okay with that—Barty?"

"I have no objection." Batistuta shrugged and looked at Neymar, "But since you are moving to my place, our suitcases should be placed in your original room, otherwise there will be no place to step in the whole room tomorrow."

Neymar had no opinion.

Because the Brazilian national team has also signed a documentary contract with Amazon, just like Manchester City did last season, there are cameras everywhere in the training base, and they dare not be too obvious. "Very good, go to the room now." The administrator nodded and said, "Gather in the fitness room in a quarter of an hour. We need to re-evaluate your physical condition."

Several people walked towards the elevator with their suitcases.

"See you in 15 minutes, then."

……

"Go away, don't occupy my bed." Batistuta lay face down on the bed and pretended to push Neymar to the ground. "The window seat is mine."

"You are so unreasonable. You said before that I wanted to sit against the wall." Neymar was not ready to give in. He pressed Batistuta's arm and refused to leave the bed. "If you want, you are welcome to share my bed, but you can't take it away. Do you hear me?"

"What are you talking about? This is originally mine!"

"No, if you go back on your word, you have to take responsibility for what you said. The one by the window is mine."

"It's mine now."

"mine."

"mine."

The two of them childishly fought over the bed, but no one took it seriously. They both treated it as a fun little game to deepen their relationship, without any impurities.

Of course, if that phone call hadn't come in.

"Hey Batty! Have you arrived in Brazil? Did I calculate the time difference correctly? I hope I didn't disturb you. Tell me how it is going there?"

Batty lay on his back on the bed, holding up his cell phone and listening to the voice messages one by one.

Neymar narrowed his eyes, grabbed the pillow, turned over and held the man down.

"Who are you talking to again?" he asked dangerously. "Lucas?"

"Uh-huh." Batty didn't even look up at him and answered perfunctorily.

"Why do I feel like you're not willing to talk to me recently? Is that because—"

"Hush, keep your voice down." Batty waved his hand. "I can't hear what he's saying."

Neymar, who was straddling him and thought he could do something with this opportunity: …

"You ignored me to chat with that French guy!" Neymar grabbed a pillow and smashed it on Batistuta's head, then grabbed his phone and threw it diagonally. "He is your friend, but I am your boyfriend. Stop talking to him, or I will be angry, Batistuta!"

"Hey!" Batty looked over in shock. "Don't say that. I don't have such a thing as a boyfriend - and you dare to hit me with a pillow? And you threw my phone. Have you thought about how you are going to die? You stingy guy!"

"The answer is no. No matter who comes today, I am still your boyfriend." Neymar looked down at him and said, "If your phone is broken, I will buy you a new one. If your brain is broken, I don't mind, as long as you stop chatting with that French guy--"

Batty's nose was crooked with anger.

He grabbed Neymar's shirt and knocked him down, and their positions were turned upside down.

"I think you've had enough of living!" Barty grabbed the pillow next to him, "You want to fight, right? Come on, fight! If you can beat me, I'll recognize your claim to be my 'boyfriend'!"

"You said it!" Neymar took another pillow. "You can keep your word, Batistuta!"

"When have I ever said anything that didn't count?"

"Just now, you clearly asked for a bed next to the wall but you snatched my bed next to the window."

"No, I didn't!"

After going around in circles, the topic returned to the original direction: who wanted the one against the wall and who wanted the one against the window? This question will probably be enough for them to discuss until next season.

Batty's cell phone was lying alone at the door.

The voice messages still come in, but this time the owner won't read them.

……

On the training ground, those who had arrived a few days earlier than them had already started training. Marcelo and Richarlison had just finished a set of confrontations and were drinking water on the sidelines when they happened to hear the coaches talking about Neymar and Batistuta.

"They are living together again." Richarlison said enviously, but no one knew who he was envious of. "What a good relationship they have," he sighed.

"Isn't it?" Marcelo, who knew everything, couldn't help laughing. "I'm really looking forward to what kind of performance they can bring us this time. I can't wait."

(End of this chapter)