[Football] Bad Boy Batty

After returning from the nightclub and taking a nap, Batti finally figured out what had happened based on information collected from various sources.

First, at the end of last year, former Barcelona president Bartomeu was exposed by the media for a "public relations scandal". He hired internet trolls to discredit Messi, Pique, Guardiola, Xavi and other Barcelona founding fathers on social media, and hired a public relations company at a price 6 times higher than the market price, suspected of corruption.

Then in March of this year, Bartomeu was found guilty of corruption and arrested by the Catalan police. During his statement, he revealed more clues to the police and submitted more evidence.

Finally, just yesterday, the Champions League final had just ended. An insider in the police department sold the contents of the emails between Bartomeu and two other executives during his time as club president, which were submitted as evidence, to a newspaper. Mundo Deportivo compiled them and published them, causing an uproar around the world.

In a nutshell: Barcelona does not care about its personnel, its executives madly insult Messi behind his back, and delay and conceal the progress of the contract renewal in order to kick him out of La Liga, hoping to drag it out until the end so that Messi will become a free agent with nowhere to go.

"Tsk, that's something Barcelona would do." Batistuta snuggled on the sofa with a bowl of loach-made vegetable juice (for sobering up, it tastes terrible) and spoke in a sarcastic tone.

Qiao Lin yawned and tapped on the keyboard: "Hmm, several of my groups are going crazy, everyone is cursing."

"They deserve to be scolded," Batty said. "They contacted the players privately before. That's how Garcia left. And Kun, I don't believe they didn't contact him in advance."

"Hmm, they said it's more than just a club." Qiao Lin curled her lips as she looked at the rapidly updating discussion in the group, "Backstabbing players, hiding things from fans, will anyone be willing to go to them in the future after doing this kind of thing?"

Although what they did was not decent, a club like Barcelona would definitely not go to that extent.

"As long as they are willing to offer a suitable salary, I believe there will be good players willing to go." Batty commented as neutrally as possible.

"But that would no longer be the players' wish, right?" Qiao Lin spread her hands. "Without the foundation, the team would be more like a mercenary group."

Batty made a gloomy sound.

He didn't want to continue talking about this. He chose Manchester City not because of its background or sentiment, but simply because it offered the highest salary. He fell in love with the club only later.

Qiao Lin reacted quickly and changed the subject immediately: "Tell me about yesterday (early morning), Batty, I heard that you met Augustus in a nightclub and flirted with him, what, is the cult couple I'm obsessed with going to come true?"

"You wish." Batty rolled his eyes at his friend. "I do like that lunatic a lot better, but you can't just -"

"You flirted with him, and I assumed that was some kind of sign."

"I flirted with everyone." Barty waved his hand in disapproval, "Besides, I was a little drunk at the time and was still suffering from the sequelae of a concussion."

Qiao Lin said in a teasing tone: "So you took the initiative to hug his neck? Come on, dear Barty, my friend was there, and she described your flirting with Augustus as being like, uh - like jumping into a hungry lion's cage without any protective gear."

"I won't give him a chance. That lunatic ruined my impression of his face from the first impression." Batty became impatient again. "Stop talking about my love life, Qiao Qiao. I can't care about that right now. A perfect season, do you know what that means?"

Of course Qiaolin knew, but she was more interested in gossip.

As for Augustus, she was open-minded. After all, when they first talked about that guy, Batty's attitude was as if he wanted to shove a gun down his throat and blow his head off, but now, looking at his attitude now, Batty became interested and hooked the Frenchman like he did with the others.

and so.

Everything is possible.

Maybe by then the cult CP will suddenly become a popular CP. Of course, she was just thinking about it, and it wasn't against the law to think about it.

But she definitely couldn't say that to Batty. Qiaolin cherished this friend she had known since childhood.

She bit her nails and changed the subject again: "Let's go back to what we just said. Messi will definitely not stay in Barcelona this year. What about Aguero? Didn't he say he wanted to go to Barcelona some time ago?"

Batty shrugged and said nothing.

"? mesmo (come on)! You're the captain."

"Captain, but I'm hungover." Batty pinched his nose and made an irritable gurgling sound from his throat, "My head is about to explode now."

"Poor baby." Qiao Lin put on a gloating smile, "You have a celebration this afternoon, a parade of floats to celebrate the season's best results, and there will be more wine. What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry, I will recover." Batty indicated that he still had Loach's potion to help, "It's just some champagne."

Qiao Lin didn't say anything else. After patting her friend's knee to comfort her, she immersed herself in the many like-minded groups on her phone.

Batty scrolled through his phone for a while.

There were chats in several club groups, but they had little to do with Barcelona, ​​mainly talking about the celebrations in the evening and the documentary. The message sent to Neymar has not been replied yet, but the message sent to Lucy (his godfather's agent) has been replied, but it didn't explain what was going on.

After thinking for a long time, Batistuta decided to call Aguero as the captain.

Barcelona is in such a mess right now, and his transfer has not yet reached the stage of signing a contract. He might as well not go and renew his contract with Manchester City for another year. By then, no matter whether he decides to become a coach or retire and change careers, he will have a more grand farewell ceremony and directly enter the Hall of Fame, becoming a legend and a symbol of the club.

It's much more cost-effective than transferring to Barcelona.

Batistuta had already thought of the wording, but Aguero's phone was always busy and he couldn't get through.

After trying several times, Batty gave up.

Probably talking to Messi on the phone, he thought.

It’s okay to contact later, there will be a celebration in the afternoon anyway, and as the hero of the season’s victory, Aguero cannot be absent.

Batty stretched, pinched his nose and drank all the vegetable juice from the loach in one breath, then jumped off the sofa.

"I'm going to sleep for a while." He said to Qiao Lin, "Don't let anyone in if they knock on the door. If he dares to bother me, just block him on my phone. You know my password."

"Not eating lunch?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll wake up by myself when I'm hungry."

"Okay." Qiao Lin nodded. "Go to bed. I'll guard your door. Good night."

"It's morning, stupid."

"I just like to say goodnight." Qiao Lin gave him a middle finger, "Goodnight, little bastard."

Batty knew what his friend had done without looking back. He raised his hand and gave him two middle fingers, then walked back to his room and went to sleep.

……

Batistuta slept until almost 15 p.m., then he packed up and called on Loach and other people in the building to drive to Manchester City headquarters. The celebration would start at 19 p.m., and considering traffic issues, they had to get on the bus half an hour in advance.

"Hey! Barty! Look at me!"

Batistuta, who was counting the champagne and playlist, turned back subconsciously and saw B Silva, who was wearing the custom-made all-victorious T-shirt prepared by the club. Then he looked down and was almost blinded by the other party's shiny golden pants.

"MY EYES! MYEYES!! MY EYES!!!" He covered his eyes and shouted exaggeratedly, "Take it away! Take that ugly thing away from me!"

"...Is it so unbearable?" Sean B touched his nose. This was exhibited at the spring Paris Fashion Show. He felt that he looked very handsome in this shiny gold wide-leg pants.

"Don't get on the bus wearing these pants, Bernardo." Batistuta put his hands together and begged B Silva, "Not all fans wear sunglasses."

Seat B: …
B Seat: “They will like it.”

"No, no, no, believe me, they won't." Batty made no secret of his dislike for the pants, "You'd be better off wearing boxer briefs than this."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course!" Manchester City captain said seriously, "Besides, we have a documentary to shoot. If you don't change, we will sell half as many discs."

Of course B didn't believe this, but after Batistuta's persuasion (more like intimidation), he finally gave in and said he would borrow a pair of shorts from Reuben.

Batistuta didn't let him go immediately. As the price for being embarrassed, Batistuta stayed with B-Silva to organize the champagne and seven props, mostly small dolls and key chains. They were suggestions from Joline. She said it was a good idea to use these to increase interaction with fans, and Batistuta believed it.

There are still 19 minutes left before 5: when the bus starts.

Batistuta originally wanted to take advantage of the fact that there were many people around and the mood was high to ask Aguero about his transfer, but it was not until this moment that he realized that the Argentine striker did not seem to be in the car, not even in any of the three cars.

"Ney, Ney!" He squeezed to the front of the car to find Neymar, "Did you see Kun just now?"

"I haven't seen him since I came here, and he didn't say anything in the group. I asked, but no one knew."

Tsk, he won’t go to Barcelona, ​​will he?

Batty nodded and prepared to go to the other two cars to ask.

"Wait..." Neymar grabbed Batistuta who was about to leave with his backhand, "There is one more thing I think you should know. Just now, Pigeon (Richarlison) called me and said..."

"We'll talk about that later." Batty interrupted him rudely, "I have something to talk to Kun about now. It's very important."

Is this a case of eating explosives?

He was still so irritable during the celebration of the season's victory.

Neymar felt a little hurt. It’s not that he had any objection to Batistuta being the captain, but that Batistuta did ignore him a lot after becoming the captain of Manchester City.

Like yesterday, even the hated Frenchman on the opposite side got more attention than him. He wanted to ask Batistuta to leave, but Batistuta was not happy about it.

Since you don't want to celebrate with me, forget it, Neymar thought with a sense of inexplicable revenge. Anyway, we have exchanged the Golden Ball Award, and you can't get rid of me easily.

He didn't stop Batty anymore.

Batistuta continued to look for Aguero, but unfortunately, no one knew where Aguero had gone, not even anyone on the coach's float.

Not right.
This is very wrong.

Batty felt like they were hiding something from him.

"Don't think about that anymore, you are on the bus around the city now, do you hear it, the fans are shouting your name, they are waiting for you to do something. Go, get the champagne and smoke sticks, my captain."

Guardiola hooked Batistuta's neck and pulled him into his arms, then rubbed his hair hard. Batistuta blew his lips in a complaining manner, and it was obvious that the Catalan coach had consumed a lot of alcohol.

But he has a point.

The fans were waiting for their king. This was an unprecedented and unlikely celebration for a club to win every game of the season. Batistuta couldn't waste too much time looking for someone. "Okay." He took a wreath from Guardiola's neck and put it on himself, then took a smoke stick from the side and rushed to the DJ at the front of the car to light them.

Blue smoke rose from his hands.

"Tell me! Who is the king of Manchester!"

"City!"

"Tell me! Who is the king of Europe!"

"City!!"

"Tell me! Who just broke the world record and won all the awards without losing a single match throughout the season?"

"City! City!! City!!!"

The smoke stick was about to run out, and Batty took the last opportunity to hold up the blue smoke like a goddess holding a torch. He ignored the danger warnings from the coaching staff next to him and stepped on the fence on the roof of the car.

"Now!" He looked at all the fans below, "Say my name!!"

The fans are going crazy.

Like fanatical pilgrims, with sincere expressions, they shouted the king's name, and their voices echoed throughout the streets and the whole of Manchester.

“Bati!!”

In this situation, who could not love him?

……

By the time the float reached the finish line, everyone was almost drunk. Rather than a formal celebration, it was more like a big party for players and fans.

The interview process was a mess.

Fortunately, they were only drinking champagne and beer, nothing stronger, so they didn't talk too much nonsense on the stage.

When it was Batty's turn, the king, who had just been rescued from the alcohol and fell back into it, seemed extremely excited. He took the microphone and spoke alone for nearly 10 minutes.

He didn't remember what he was talking about. It could be about the difficulties they encountered during the season, or it could be about the pressure he was under. It didn't matter. Who cared?

But Batty remembered his last words.

"I love you guys, really, I love you lovely guys! Without your support we wouldn't be here today." The king held the microphone with red eyes, "I won't lie, everyone, at first I came here (Manchester City) just for the money, but now no, I love this place, I love these people!"

He talked endlessly under the influence of alcohol.

"I love my teammates, coaches, and all the staff, including the annoying Claire. I know you and Qiaolin are doing fan fiction behind my back, but it doesn't matter, go ahead. As long as you are happy, I will still love you as always."

"Oh my God, I don't know what else to say. Anyway, I will not leave here. I love you. This is my home. It is my second home besides Rio. The slums of Rio raised me. This place made me who I am. I will always be grateful!"

"What kind of king is he without his people?" Batty looked at the audience with open arms, "As long as you are still here, I will always be your little king!! Until the day I hang up my boots!"

Perhaps the mood at this moment can only be experienced by being there in person.

Amid thunderous applause and cheers, many fans in the audience shed tears of excitement. Before this, some people worried that Batistuta had won all the club honors he could and might leave Manchester City to find new goals, but now, with the little king's personal promise, they are no longer worried.

From now on, Batti belonged to them forever.

……

Batty felt a little dizzy from shouting. He passed the microphone to the next person and walked down the stage with his oxygen-deprived head. As soon as he reached the backstage, he looked up and saw a familiar figure.

what!
Isn’t this the Aguero he has been looking for all day?

"Hey! A-Kun!" Batty waved and went over to greet him. "Where have you been? My phone is unreachable. I'll find you soon..."

Aguero saw him too.

But this atmosphere seems a little off.
Batistuta stopped and looked at the Argentine striker walking towards him angrily with some confusion. He wanted to figure out the current situation, but after thinking for a while, he still came to no conclusion.

Aguero came at Batistuta like an angry bull.

"I called a halt to the transfer." This was the first sentence.

"Is this what you want? Huh?" This is the second sentence.

Batty was confused.

What does it mean?
"Of course I hope you won't leave, but—"

"So you exposed the news just for this. God, Batistuta, you are amazing. I don't know if you asked your godfather for help or what, but you got all the evidence in the hands of the Catalan police."

Aguero was furious, as if Batistuta had done something unforgivable.

"Yes, exposing Barcelona's disgusting things does work, I don't care." He poked Batistuta's chest and continued, "But have you ever thought about the feelings of the people who were insulted in those emails, have you thought about it?"

Batty: ?
"Wait, Kun, you mean, I was the one who hired the hacker?" Batty's eyes widened.

This is ridiculous!
"I know what your godfather did last summer, he called Pep, didn't he, and asked him if he wanted Messi, he could do it."

"So? Just based on this, you think I was the one who did this?"

"Isn't it?" Aguero said quickly, "Your great director Godfather is arrogant and unreasonable, but if he thinks he can manipulate others and control their fate at will, then he is wrong, very wrong!"

The Argentine striker was angry. He would never speak like this under normal circumstances, and he would never use such sharp words to hurt Batistuta.

But that didn't mean that Barty had to endure his anger, especially now that his godfather was involved.

Batty's eyes turned cold.

“Take that back, Sergio,” he said, word by word. “No one can slander Edmundo to my face.”

Batistuta never called Aguero's name like that.

He was angry.

Aguero once realized that he had said too much, but he was sure that the matter was related to Batistuta and the famous director. He snorted a few times and did not go into it further.

The two just looked at each other.

About half a minute later.

"Do you know what you did, Batistuta? You just destroyed Leo's feelings for Barcelona," Aguero whispered. "His love for that club is no less than your love for Manchester City, or even more, but you just destroyed it."

It was so funny.

Batty didn't know what to say for a moment.

Even fans online know that the people who should be blamed for Barcelona's "email scandal" are Bartomeu and his senior executive friends. They were the ones who destroyed Messi's remaining feelings for the club. This cannot be blamed on the hacker.

So the same goes.

If the hacker was really hired by Batty, it had nothing to do with him.

Aguero was really angry and confused.

Batty: "I think you need to calm down, Kun, now-"

Before he could finish his words, a hand patted Batty on the back and interrupted him. There was a mobile phone in that hand, which showed that the call was in progress.

Familiar phone, familiar hands, familiar tattoos.

Batistuta turned his head and glared at Neymar angrily.

"I'm busy!"

"But I think you should answer the call." Neymar was not affected by Batistuta's tone. He shrugged, smiled, and wiped away the trace under the corner of Batistuta's mouth with his thumb, as if it was left by drinking.

This small gesture of affection made Batty calm down, but he still didn't answer the phone.

"Can't you take it for me?" Batty asked.

"It's better for you to listen in person. It's about the America's Cup."

"America's Cup?"

"Yes, I wanted to tell you just now on the float, but you didn't listen," Neymar said. "Just this morning the South American Football Association made a decision that the America's Cup will be moved to a new location because of the epidemic. Argentina and Colombia applied to give up. Guess where the change is?"

Batty had a bad idea in his mind.

"what do you mean--"

"Yeah!" Neymar shook his eyebrows and made an exaggerated 'surprise' gesture, but anyone with eyes could tell that he didn't mean it that way. "This year's America's Cup has been moved to our hometown, Brazil. Surprise!"

Batty: ???
This was the second time today that his brain had stopped functioning.

(End of this chapter)