[Football] Bad Boy Batty

There are still three days before the semi-final against Argentina. Batistuta's knee has completely subsided and he no longer feels severe pain when walking, just like a normal person. But he cannot do recovery training yet. The cruciate ligament in the front of the human knee can be repaired habitually, so he needs to make full use of his time to rest.

As a result, he became the only idle person in the training base.

The days without training were boring, so Batistuta would go to the training ground to watch his teammates train, make trouble, talk nonsense to distract their attention, and then go to the coach to complain.

Batty was much happier when he saw those guys anxiously trying to explain themselves but unable to give him up when being scolded by their coach.

"I didn't think of this when I agreed to let you stay." Loach walked to the sidelines and handed Batty a glass of unappetizing-looking green vegetable juice and a bottle cap of capsule pills. "Here, this is your dose for today. It's already three hours late. You can't delay any longer."

"I can stay if I want to, and I can leave if I want to. I don't need your consent." Barty took the vegetable juice and medicine, looked at them with disgust for a long time, and finally closed his eyes and swallowed them. "Errrrr! It's damn unpalatable, even more disgusting than energy drinks!"

It is now evening, and Batistuta comes to the training ground for fun after receiving physical therapy. The training grounds and courts here are mostly old-fashioned. The indoor and outdoor passages are underground. Through two doors, the players need to climb up a staircase to reach the outdoor training ground.

The Brazilian team's night training is about to end. The staff began to clean up the training balls used by the forwards. Ederson was still practicing saves. Neymar and Jesus helped him at different distances on his left and right sides, and practiced shooting by the way.

"Hey! It's Batistuta, here comes Batistuta!" Richarlison was drinking water on the sidelines. When he saw Batistuta coming, he immediately threw the water bottle to Neres next to him and ran towards him. "How's the physical therapy? Does your knee still hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt, but I can't run yet." Batty raised his hand and greeted Richarlison, then signaled to Loach to take the vegetable juice away quickly, as it was about to make him vomit his dinner.

"Nonsense, this stuff is not that bad to drink, I mixed it myself." Niuqiu felt a little wronged. With Batty's "are you serious?" look, he took a few sips himself and said, "Look, it's not bad to drink at all."

Tsk.
That's because your taste buds are different from ordinary people.

Batistuta rolled his eyes, then snatched the last of the vegetable juice and gave it to Richarlison: "Try it, is it unpalatable?"

Richarlison took the glass and drank it all.

"puff--"

His reaction was bigger and more direct than Batty's. He sprayed all the vegetable juice in his mouth onto the ground, and after spitting several times, he wiped his tongue exaggeratedly.

"This stuff is really unpalatable." Richarlison gave him a 'you're right' look, then patted Loach's shoulder heavily, "Hey man, don't make this stuff again next time. It's like sulfuric acid, it will accelerate death."

Batistuta was amused by his statement, while Loach hit him on the shoulder in annoyance. Richarlison tried to dodge but failed to avoid it and chose to fight back. Loach hit him again and the two got into a fight at the stairs.

After watching for a while, he found it boring and turned to watch the training on the field.

"Come on Edson!"

Batistuta sat down on the raised edge next to the aisle, with his legs hanging down and dangling, just at the height of the painted image of the Brazilian players on the inner wall of the aisle.

Perhaps it was because he did not encourage Neymar and Jesus who were shooting. The two of them increased the difficulty of their shots and focused on tricky balls towards blind corners. Ederson could still hold on at the beginning, but as the two took turns shooting, he only had one shot, and his save rate dropped visibly.

[Swoosh——]
Neymar hit a curved ball towards the lower left corner. Ederson flew to save the ball and even rolled on the ground, getting mud on his back, but this did not prevent the ball from entering the net.

"Hahahaha! You look like a pig!" Richarlison let go of Loach's neck, put his hands on his hips and laughed at Ederson wantonly, "Who told you to say that to me just now? You're getting your comeuppance!"

Edson gave him the middle finger with his glove. "Shut up!"

"You said exactly the same thing five minutes ago." Richarlison disagreed. He squatted next to Batistuta and hooked his neck intimately. "Hey, you know, just now, I cheered for him (Ederson) and supported him, but guess what he said? He said: Shut up, mate."

"Haha, really!" Batty was amused again by Richarlison's vivid imitation. He tugged at the other's hand on his shoulder and said, "I know what you should do after you retire, Rich. Go do stand-up comedy! You have a talent for making people laugh. Really, I'm not kidding!"

Richarlison, who received the affirmation, began to shake his head proudly. He likes to joke around, and this time he worked at full speed to make the injured Batistuta happy. Seeing the effect, he worked even harder.

"Come on, Ederson! Try harder! Otherwise you'll still lose the next ball!" He put his hand to his mouth and made a trumpet shape, shouting into the field. Neymar's shot just happened to go over, and Ederson missed it again. "See, did you hear what I said? I told you that you couldn't save this ball!"

Amid Batistuta's laughter, veins on Ederson's head bulged, he clenched his fists, and then kicked the ball to Richarlison.

"Oh! Be careful!"

Batistuta was confident enough to dodge the ball, but Richarlison also wanted to help and subconsciously pulled him towards him, so the ball dodged it. The two of them rolled down from the edge of the field and knocked down Neres who was watching the fun.

"Watch out! His leg is still injured!" Neymar collected the ball and ran over here, "Don't press him, help him up!"

Batty waved his hands and got up by himself: "Don't make a fuss, my legs are not broken, this movement is not as good as me getting up and out of bed."

"You said the same thing before you got injured!" Neymar hit Batistuta on the head with the ball.

Ederson also ran over and apologized to Batistuta for his rudeness. Batistuta didn't care. After brushing off the grass debris on his body, he quietly pulled Richarlison's arm and signaled him secretly.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine. But you, Edson, you even missed that kind of ball just now?" He said the most sarcastic words with the most innocent face, "You are too easily affected by things outside the court. Honey, you should thank Lisa, she is helping you train."

Edson: ???

Before Ederson could react, Richarlison and Neres also started to join in.

"That's right, you can't handle pressure well, I'm here to help you." Richarlison twitched his eyebrows at him, "In the next game against Argentina, those people might say that if you don't practice in advance, what if they say you are mentally unbalanced?"

"Right, right, right. Don't think that Argentines are like Messi. They curse fiercely." Neres said exaggeratedly, "We didn't speak loudly just now, but you still heard it and reacted. Oh, I'm really worried about your performance then!"

The veins on Edson's head popped up again.

He clenched his fist.

"You guys!"

"Hahaha, run!" Batistuta had expected this. He patted Richarlison's arm and pushed him and Neres into the passage. He didn't have to run himself. Firstly, he was injured, and secondly, he bet that Ederson wouldn't dare to touch him.

But unexpectedly, Richarlison misunderstood and turned around to let Batistuta carry the ball, like a bag of potatoes, and then ran into the house, shouting for Neres to catch up.

"You are crazy!" Neymar couldn't believe his eyes. "Knees, knees! Watch your knees!"

Batistuta was of course also shocked, but he quickly adapted to being carried on his shoulders, his head facing back and his butt facing forward, and Richarlison just wrapped his arms around his waist. Apart from a little bumpy feeling in his stomach, everything else was pretty good.

"Don't just stand there like an idiot. Come on!" He waved at the smaller and smaller group of people. "Hurry up! If you don't run, Edson is going to eat us!"

"Ah! The boss is coming!" The loach screamed and ran over quickly.

Neymar followed closely behind. Neres, who reacted last, was unlucky. He was caught by Ederson and beaten up several times. He finally escaped and hurriedly caught up with the others while shouting "Wait for me!"

Soon, several different laughs, curses and screams were heard in the corridor, and could be heard from a long distance away.

At the entrance of another passage, head coach Tite was standing with his hands in his pockets and his assistant. They watched the entire process of the players' "internal conflict". To them, it was just children's play.

"The new generation." The teaching assistant shook his head helplessly, "What a bunch of little lunatics."

Tite smiled and completely agreed with him.

"Who says it isn't?"

……

At night, when it was almost time to go to bed, Neymar got up in the dark and went to look for Batistuta quietly.

Because of a knee injury, Batistuta could no longer sleep with him, so the team arranged a separate room for him, equipped with the best recovery equipment.

But that's not a problem.

Nothing can stop Neymar from asking for his goodnight kiss.

But surprisingly, he was not the only one who went to 'visit' Batty today.

Through the crack in the door, he saw Batty sitting lazily on the edge of the bed, supporting himself with his hands. In front of him, a tall man with black curly hair was kneeling on one knee in front of the bed, holding Batty's leg with one hand and massaging Batty's knee with a small instrument in the other hand.

Neymar's brain reacted for a moment, and then he realized that this might be the legendary bloodhound, and the action of pushing the door stopped in mid-air.

It's not what he thought.

But Curly Hair guessed right.

"The Argentine has gone back, safe and sound," said the man, who didn't look up and seemed to be concentrating on the massage.

"Slower than expected," Batty said.

"If you tell me this, it will be much faster." The man said, "I understand what you mean, but it's easy to get rid of One-Eye. There's no need for a reason."

"Okay, my bad." Batty answered briskly. He didn't think at all and just responded to the man in the simplest way.

The man didn't say anything else, nor did Batty. The only sound in the room was the hum of the instruments.

Their delivery method is indeed unusual.

It is different from the stereotypical gang, but it is not as warm as a family either. Neymar has seen Batistuta and his godfather together, and the atmosphere between them can only be described as doting, just like a cat slave and his cat master.

But the relationship between Buddy and the real bloodhound he adopted was not that close, but it was not alienated, and it was less like a family. There was a strange bond between them, like symbiotic plants in the rainforest.

Neymar couldn't have found a better description.

Suddenly, he remembered what Batty had told him a long time ago, that the gang leader was simply using him as a substitute for his godfather and did not attack him because of his principles.

Following this logic, some things make sense, but combined with what he just saw, Neymar quickly denied this statement.

Bloodhound Draine definitely doesn't just see Batty as a substitute.

Perhaps he had already treated Batty as his own child, and Batty could sense it, but he just refused to admit it.

Neymar thought, this sounds very Batistuta. From a certain perspective, when it comes to emotions, whether it is family, friendship or love, Batistuta is really very stubborn and prone to getting stuck in a rut.

……

Neymar waited outside the door for almost half an hour until the man left through the window and then pushed the door open.

"Good evening, I'm here for my goodnight kiss." He pretended to take off his hat and didn't mention the man who had just left.

"Oh, you came at the right time." Batty didn't mention it either, they both understood it tacitly.

Neymar came to the bed and they exchanged a quick kiss.

"So simple?" Batty pulled the strap of his sweatshirt and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Are you sure you don't want more?"

"If you don't object, then, I guess."

"I won't be attending tomorrow's training. You can do whatever you want to me." Batty's mouth curled up in an ambiguous arc. "But my knee is injured, so I can't unlock many postures. It's a pity."

"It's okay." Neymar kicked off his shoes and climbed up. He grabbed Batistuta's ankles and gently folded his legs. "You lie down and enjoy today. I will serve you."

"Oh, that's very thoughtful of you." Barty touched his wrist. "Did you bring a condom?"

"Of course." Neymar took out a few cubes from his pocket, "Your favorite, the [vibrating particle type]."

"Excellent."

……

At about 1 a.m., Neymar returned to his room humming a song.

Perhaps he was too happy that he didn't even notice the dark shadow that flashed by at the entrance of the building.

Soon, the black shadow also returned to the room. The guy was still in shock and leaned against the door, not daring to breathe.

Batistuta and Neymar.

They actually have... that kind of relationship?

(End of this chapter)