[Football] Bad Boy Batty

Cristiano Ronaldo, currently the most valuable and most highly paid player in world football, plays for Real Madrid and is considered one of the best players in history. He just led Portugal to win the European Cup in the summer and won this year's Ballon d'Or in early December.

A few months ago, FIFA ended its cooperation with France Football magazine. Starting this year, the Golden Ball Award will be awarded solely by France Football again.

Therefore, it is very likely that Ronaldo will win the FIFA World Footballer of the Year award early next year and achieve the Grand Slam of honors.

And most importantly, he is handsome and has a good figure.

Batty did not rush to introduce himself to the other party immediately. He mixed himself a mixed drink and then watched from a distance outside the crowd.

No matter how Ronaldo knew about this party, he must be aware of the host's identity, which means that he definitely did not come here simply to dance, drink, or have a romantic encounter.

Ederson suddenly appeared and leaned over to Batistuta's ear and asked, "Have you heard that Ronaldo showed up because I knew his former roommate's brother."

"uh-huh."

"That's fake." Edson said firmly, "I asked around, and there's no such person."

Of course it's fake, Batistuta thought, and it's very likely that Ronaldo himself released the fake news.

The question now is what exactly he wants.

"Do you know how this fake news came out?" Batty asked.

"I don't know." Ederson shook his head. "It spread too quickly. Everyone knew about it in a moment. I couldn't figure it out."

Then it was definitely premeditated.

Batistuta waved Ederson off to play first, added some new brandy to his mixed drink, and finally walked towards Ronaldo.

The Portuguese guy just finished taking a photo with a blonde girl and is now sitting in a place similar to a bar. He doesn't drink any beverages or much alcohol, just a glass of soda and browsing his phone.

The intent is too obvious.

It's like waiting for someone to come and chat with him.

Batistuta raised his lips, and in his heart, the fire of mischief was burning. After thinking for a while, he casually pulled a straw into the wine glass, then patted Ronaldo's shoulder and sat next to him.

"Good evening, Cristiano. I guess you don't know me yet. I'm Batista, the host of this party." He stretched out his hand casually. "You can also call me Batista."

There was just the right amount of surprise on Ronaldo's face.

"I know you. Call me Chris." He shook hands with Batistuta in a very friendly, even polite manner. "There are all your highlights on the Internet. I've watched them all. The goal you scored at Camp Nou was simply perfect."

Batty smiled and accepted the compliment without any modesty.

"So, how did you get here?" He deliberately took a sip of wine with a straw. The mixed feeling of alcohol made the heat around him rise a degree. Under the influence of alcohol, Batty began to ask questions, "Are you here to see your girlfriend? Or do you miss your old club?"

"Business event." Ronaldo's words were flawless. "I came here to shoot the cover of the magazine. A friend happened to be there too, and he told me there was a party here. I didn't expect it to be yours. What a coincidence."

Is it really a coincidence?

Batty didn't believe it, he didn't say anything. After lowering his eyelids, he slowly bit the straw, then raised his eyes and looked at the Portuguese opposite, like some kind of sweet scrutiny.

The prank officially begins.

……

Meanwhile in Spain.

"Chris is in the UK? I haven't heard of any business activities from him." Marcelo expressed doubt about Neymar's statement, "But if what you said is true, he might be nostalgic. He used to be in Manchester United, and there are all his favorite nightclubs nearby."

Neymar has no interest in the old news about Ronaldo and Manchester.

“I don’t care what nightclub he likes,” he said. “Just give me his number.”

"Why do you want his number?" Marcelo continued to ask, "Do you want to ask him about the treatment at Real Madrid? Why don't you just ask me that?"

"I have something to talk to him about." Neymar said quickly, "He may have gone to Batistuta's party. I can't let Batistuta ruin my career."

Batty?

Marcelo raised an eyebrow.

"The Batistuta who won the Olympics with you and scored six goals at Camp Nou?" he asked.

"Yes." Neymar couldn't wait any longer. "Please, I really have something important to tell you."

Marcelo thought about it for a moment and seemed to understand something.

"Listen to me, Neymar Jr., if things are really as you said, Chris went to find Batistuta, then they are all in the UK now, and you can't do anything even if you call him." He held back his smile and said seriously.

Neymar's eyebrows knitted together: "So I'm just going to watch?"

"No, of course you still have something to do." Marcelo on the other end of the phone covered his mouth and chuckled a few times, then returned to his serious voice, "I have a way, you can-"

Ma Pengpeng, who also likes to play pranks, thought it was time to give a surprise to his young national team teammate, whom he had never met before.

……

Marcelo and Neymar reached an agreement, but Ronaldo was in a dilemma.

He just came to find out some information and see what kind of player Batista, who was praised so much on the Internet, was...Florentino had used this name to repeatedly reject his salary increase.

But plans cannot keep up with changes. Batty Jr. is very smart and clever. He directly sees his purpose and tries to turn the tables.

But after he perfectly answered the other party's trap question, the child actually bit the straw in front of him.

No one could understand how shocked Ronaldo was.

Doesn't he know that this action means hooking up with someone in a bar?

Or did he know and just wanted to use this to scare him?
Or maybe Batistuta really wants to be with him... Although the mainstream voice on the football field is straight, the more men gather in a place, the higher the chance of gay men, and everyone knows this.

Ronaldo's eyes came to the straw. Batistuta was still biting it, but it didn't seem like he was doing it on purpose. His action was more like the habitual play action of a child when drinking water with a straw.

Tsk, damn it.

His eyes moved upwards, and suddenly, Ronaldo met those blue eyes.

His originally focused vision suddenly became distracted.

"What's wrong?" Batty asked, blinking.

Looking at that innocent face, the Portuguese striker shook his head and at the same time threw away all the inappropriate thoughts.

He may really not know what this action means.

"Nothing, it's just that the music made me a little distracted." Ronaldo replied, "What did you want to ask me just now?"

Hearing that he finally threw the question back, the smile on Batistuta's face widened. He put down his wine glass, narrowed his eyes and smiled, showing his fangs, then hooked his finger at Ronaldo.

"Come closer," Batty said. "This is a more private question."

A more...private question?

Ronaldo was curious and nervous at the same time.

He put his ear close to it: "What is it?"

"That's right--"

Batty deliberately breathed and moved closer.

Alcohol mixed with hot gas hit Ronaldo's earlobes, and the Portuguese felt as if a feather was constantly tickling his heart. He wanted to leave but was reluctant to do so. At this moment, he heard Batistuta say -

"They all say that you and Kaka are having an affair. In order to make it easier for him to find you at night, you even bought him a house in Madrid. People often heard you two fighting until the early morning. Is this true?"

C Ronaldo: …

Where the hell did this rumor come from?

as well as--

He looked over from a distance and saw the light-haired boy grinning like a cat that had successfully stolen some fish.

C Ronaldo: How could he think this kid was innocent just now?

……

However, after Batty successfully pulled off the prank, he soon stopped laughing because another uninvited guest showed up.

Augustus arrived at the party with his psychopathic temperament. He high-fived everyone and nodded to everyone, as if he was the king here.

"Why is this psycho here?" Batty glanced at him quickly and then made an irritated nasal sound.

"Psycho?" Ronaldo looked back. He didn't recognize Augustus. "What's wrong? Do you have a grudge against him?"

"I don't even bother to have a grudge against a guy who only gets his youth training qualification by paying a check." Batty stood up, clenching his fists and making crackling sounds. "I just don't want to be bothered by a madman."

As he was speaking, the madman discovered him.

"Why don't you seem happy to see me?" Augustus walked up to Batty and asked knowingly, "What happened?"

"Fuck off. You're not welcome at my party." Batty gave him the middle finger.

"But I was invited," Augustus said. "I thought it was an open, free party."

Batty pushed him away like a boxer.

"Freedom be damned, this is my party," he said. "You better get out of here before I do anything or—"

"How about we play a game?"

Augustus fearlessly took over the second half of Batty's sentence and said, "It's a simple game. If you win, I leave, but if I win, you have to agree to let me stay, and there will be no restrictions on me in all future parties."

Batty disagrees.

"This is my fucking home," he said. If he had a gun, he would have put it to the guy's temple. "I don't need to play any of these games with you. Get out of here."

"You haven't heard the game yet." Augustus smiled. "Let's play something you are good at. How about football?"

Batty paused, then narrowed his eyes. He realized that this man was here to cause trouble.

Going to someone else's place and challenging what they do best is nothing more than ruining the place.

So, what to do?
If this question were asked to be answered by Batistuta's godfathers, they would shoot them, but Batistuta would not. When dealing with those who come to disrupt the show and slap him in the face, he prefers to slap them back.

"I can wait until you sober up," said Augustus.

"No need." Batty raised his lips. "Football game, I can beat you even when I'm completely drunk, how do you want to play?"

Augustus' smile widened.

"In table football, you can hit the ball with anything except your hands, and the ball must not fall off the table, and it must go over the net on the table." He said, "Form a team, find your teammates, play one game at a time, and the one who wins more times wins. How about it, are you confident that you can beat me?"

Batty scoffed.

"Do you think I will lose if you put the football on the table?" He walked up to Ronaldo and put his hand around his neck. "Even if I lend you the European Cup winner to form a team, you still can't win."

Ronaldo was still in a state of confusion when Batistuta suddenly grabbed his neck. He turned his head subconsciously and saw the pair of tipsy blue eyes close to him. "What?" he asked.

"Let's play a game. You like games, right?" Batty pinched his nose and pointed at Augustus on the opposite side. "You and him are on the same team. Let's play table football."

Augustus pretended to be touched. "Oh, you are so thoughtful. I have just started systematic training and I don't know anything yet." He said, "What will you do?"

"You should worry about yourself." Batistuta put his hand on Ronaldo's shoulder and stood up, then shouted to the other end of the room: "Ederson!"

Edson popped his head out like Bugs Bunny. "What's up?"

"Come and help." Barty smiled, "Let them see the strength of the Olympic champion combination."

... * ...

"There are big risks in our defense. We can see the aggressiveness of the frontcourt. If we have a solid defense, I think we can lose at least half the games."

Guardiola is meeting with Manchester City's top executives. His main purpose is to hope that the team can introduce 1-2 new defenders.

Kompany was injured again, Zabaleta and Kolarov are old and cannot keep up with the speed of attack, and the newcomer Stones is too young and has no experience. He always passes the ball back when he shouldn't, causing tension in front of the goal.

But speaking of being nervous at the gate...

Guardiola thought that perhaps more reserves should be added to the goalkeeper position.

The goalkeeper position is more important than the defender.

"Bravo is very good, he used to be Barcelona's No. 1 goalkeeper, but he may have encountered something recently and his form has not been good." He said tactfully, "We need a stable goalkeeper with good footwork. It doesn't matter if he is younger. We can teach him."

Manchester City's chief operating officer rubbed his chin: "When do you plan to ask for it?"

"Of course the sooner the better," Guardiola said. "At the moment our performance is fairly stable, but that's because February hasn't arrived yet. When the schedule starts to get busy, the problems we face will increase exponentially."

The chairman who was listening nodded. After so many years in Manchester City, he knew that what Guardiola said was true.

When February comes, 2 or 2 games a week will make them exhausted, and if they always start and play the whole game, the players will also be exhausted.

"But, Pep, your strict requirements on central defenders make it difficult for us to identify the target." The chairman said, "And it's a little late now, there is not enough time left for negotiations, and it is almost impossible for us to solve it before the winter transfer window closes."

Guardiola nodded, he understood.

"You guys take care of the transfers, I only provide the players I need and the scout list," he said. "I'm not asking you to buy players in the winter window, but the team has to think about the future."

The operations officer nodded.

Guardiola added: "We have a very good striker now. Batistuta is a pleasant surprise, but he has not been injured so far. I can't put all my hopes of the game on him."

"Isn't it a good thing to never be injured?" asked the Chairman.

"It looks like it, but it's not," Guardiola said. "I don't mean to hope that he gets injured, but some players are like this. They don't get injured normally, but once they get injured, it's a serious injury."

Oh, that makes sense.

The chairman nodded again.

"We will find a few more sports scientists and develop a new training model for him," he said. "Bati cannot get injured now because of him. This season, the club's attention has increased by 23% compared to last season. This is an amazing number. Now everyone knows that the Brazilian genius who can dribble past opponents continuously is in Manchester City."

Just then Arteta ran in holding a tablet.

"Bati organized a table football game at home, and Cristiano Ronaldo and Rothschild were also there." He directly shoved the tablet into Guardiola's hands, "Someone started a live broadcast on IG, and now the number of viewers has almost exceeded 10."

"What?" Guardiola was shocked. "Bati, Ronaldo? Live broadcast? What?"

"That's not the point." Arteta zoomed in on the live broadcast. "The point is Batistuta's partner, look."

"What's up with him?"

"You're looking for a goalkeeper with great footwork," Arteta said. "Here, look at him."

……

The game was in full swing at the party, with the score already at 10-1, Batistuta and Ederson 10, Augustus and Ronaldo 1.

Everyone was stunned.

It turns out that under certain circumstances, 1+1 can actually equal a negative number.

Batistuta thought this was strange. Ronaldo was very strong, but Augustus, who was teamed with him, was a novice. Although they could sometimes operate together, they had no tacit understanding at all. Not only did they block each other's movements several times, they even tried to steal the ball once and ended up bumping into each other.

On the other hand, he and Ederson had been training together during the Olympics, and their tacit understanding was several levels higher than that of the opponents. In addition, Brazilians' love for football allows them to play anytime and anywhere, and they have endless little tricks, so in this regard, the opponents are really no match for them.

Looking at Augustus's expression which gradually stopped smiling, Batti felt indescribably happy.

"You don't want to admit defeat?" He raised the corner of his mouth, "If you admit defeat now, I can still generously allow you to finish this party."

To be honest, the current situation is a bit beyond expectations. In Augustus's "script", he will still lose, but he will lose as if he won, creating a feeling of "I let you win." Although he cannot beat him technically for the time being, he can win by relying on psychology.

But who knew that his cooperation with the Portuguese player next to him was so bad that they couldn't create the appearance of deliberately losing the game.

but--

Augustus raised the corners of his mouth slightly.

This proved that his vision was correct. Batista was not an ordinary pet cat, but an ocelot that grew up in the wild. It was extremely aggressive and would use its sharp claws to pierce its prey if it was not careful.

It doesn’t matter if you just give up temporarily. The best investments are long-term. Augustus kept this in mind.

"No, the game isn't over yet. It's too early to admit defeat now." He said this deliberately. "Maybe you and your partner are too familiar with each other and have a tacit understanding. Ronaldo and I just met for the first time today."

Batty raised an eyebrow.

"If you think so, then let's switch." He patted Ederson's arm, motioning him to switch positions with Ronaldo on the opposite side. "Now our partners have just met, do you have any other requests?"

"Gone."

Batty raised his hand and smoothed his hair, which told him the difference in strength.

Ronaldo came to Batistuta, his mouth shaped into a straight line.

No wonder, this Portuguese is born to never admit defeat, no matter where he is, and today's table football game may be the biggest loss he has ever had in his career.

"I'm sorry, Chris, for making you partner with such an idiot." Batty whispered to comfort him, "Stand forward. I remember your knees and thighs are still injured. Don't move your legs. Use your head. You can do the weaker ones and the shorter distances. Let me do the higher and farther ones."

Ronaldo gave Batistuta a surprised look.

"My knee injury happened in the summer. I was still playing for Real Madrid half a month ago," he said.

"You don't have to lie to me," Batty replied. "I watched your recent game highlights. The injury has healed, but it still has an impact. I can see it."

Ronaldo looked at him with a slightly more complicated look.

Not many people can tell from the video footage that he is still troubled.

Being cared for by such a new kid, Ronaldo felt some strange emotions in his heart.

It would be great if he could come to Real Madrid, he thought, they would together bring the club to the best position in the 21st century and then receive a bunch of awards, and he would help him and carefully train him to be his successor.

Then when he retires from Real Madrid, he will applaud and send him to the throne.

Seeing Ronaldo was a little dazed, Batistuta thought it was because of distrust, so he smiled and said, "I won't tell anyone, don't worry."

"I know, thank you." Ronaldo said, tilting his head to indicate, "Let's win this game first, and we'll talk about the rest later."

……

Facts have proved that strength and talent can cover up some of the lack of tacit understanding.

Ederson kicked the ball, he headed it twice, it was a normal ball, not very powerful, Ronaldo increased his strength and headed it back, this ball was not easy to catch, and even if he caught it and hit it back, it might go out of bounds.

Augustus still had some talent. He jumped up and hit the ball on the head, then imitated Batistuta's method in the previous game and stopped the ball with his thigh, adjusted his posture, and hit it with his head again.

Take the bait.

Table football is different from ordinary football games. It is actually closer to table tennis. When one side increases the strength, the other side can only fight back with greater strength except for cleverly unprepared attack, and this is the opponent's chance.

Augustus' header was average, not too fast but just the right height.

Batty quickly curled the corners of his mouth.

"Chris!"

Ronaldo dodged in response, and saw Batistuta volley the ball past him without stopping.

It was an extremely fast smash that no one could catch.

Ederson's jaw dropped to the ground, while Augustus next to him had a gloomy expression. Batistuta turned around and high-fived Ronaldo.

"Pretty!"

……

It was another big victory, and the final score was even a common score in table tennis games, 11-0, Batistuta and Ronaldo 11, Ederson and Augustus 0.

"Even on my first day as a goalkeeper I didn't concede so many goals!" Ederson collapsed and screamed, "Why! Why!"

Batty walked over and patted him on the head.

"Don't be sad. You're on a team with an idiot. You're already good enough." He deliberately said in a voice that Augustus could hear. "Some people think that playing football is easy. That's an insult to professional players. I have to teach him what respect is."

The onlookers also began to communicate in low voices, and the live broadcast has not been interrupted. The number of viewers has now exceeded 70.

And Augustus, the 'idiot' as Batistuta called him, was neither angry nor sad. He did not even have any negative emotions. His eyes were fixed on Batistuta who was bending over to talk to Ederson.

From childhood to adulthood, no one had ever made him lose so completely.

His heartbeat gradually accelerated. Batty looked at him with contempt. He felt like he was hit hard by something and his heartbeat accelerated even faster.

What to do, Augustus thought, this feeling is a bit addictive.

At this moment, the crowd suddenly started to move, with exclamations and scoldings coming one after another, but it didn't end yet. From the outermost edge to the front of the pool table, a man dressed in a postman's uniform and carrying a large satchel squeezed out and stood in front of Batty.

"Another uninvited guest." Batty said sarcastically, "What are you doing here again? Are you here to challenge me again?"

The man shook his head. "I'm here to do someone a favor." He said, "Excuse me, is Mr. Batista Robo Arthur Santos Moreira here?"

Batty was stunned for a moment. "It's me." He looked the man up and down suspiciously, "What do you want?"

"It's like this. My company can help you accomplish anything you want within the legal scope. Our principle is that as long as the money is in place, nothing else matters." The man took out a laptop from his bag and said, "Someone asked me to pass a message to you."

Batty frowned. "What do you mean by pass--"

As the man opened his notebook, Batty was choked back the second half of his sentence.

Neymar's angry face suddenly appeared on the originally dark screen. He was holding a mobile phone in his hand, and one could vaguely see the live broadcast on it.

"Not only did you not invite me to the party, you even ignored my calls in order to play football with Cristiano Ronaldo! Fortunately, Marcelo told me about this company. Now, Batistuta! You are not allowed to ignore me anymore!"

(End of this chapter)