[Football] Bad Boy Batty

"…Fred, Paque! Go around that obstacle, turn around and pass back to advance! You can't skip the steps in between, understand? Everyone! I repeat it again! This is an overall advancement exercise. The ball is given by the defender, passes through the midfield and finally arrives in front of the goal. There are 3 sets of basic advancements. You must remember them. I'm not asking you to remember them with your brain, but with your legs and your muscles!"

At the Brazilian team's training ground, the assistant coach stopped the practice of Group B on the field, and corrected the mistakes of several of them... No, actually it was not a mistake, it would be more appropriate to describe it as a bad attitude. After correcting several players with bad attitudes, he retreated to the sidelines and used the whistle to signal for the training to continue.

This training method was brought by Zidane to Real Madrid and modified according to the Brazilian team. The purpose is to allow the Brazilian boys to give full play to their characteristics while connecting them together skillfully.

Looking at the best Brazilian teams in history, in addition to the outstanding individual abilities of the players, their coordination and tactics are not inferior to those of the same period.

So the so-called "the Brazilian team has outstanding skills and can win as long as they are happy" is actually a stereotype.

Of course emotions are important.

The Brazilian team cannot lose their most fundamental traditions. Under the invasion of modern football that is becoming more and more utilitarian or efficiency-oriented, if they lose their characteristics and their long-standing culture, how can Brazilian football defeat European football?

"Come on! This time it's good, almost (every ball) is scored over the wall, keep going!"

Batistuta withdrew his gaze from the players in Group B (mainly Paqueta) who were practicing forward next door, shook his head to get rid of the random thoughts of swinging his legs to touch the ball, and continued with his group's shooting training.

'Boom! '

The ball hit the top of the dummy wall directly.
"You're distracted, Batistuta." Zidane said with his hands in his pockets, with a football under his right foot. He was doing his job as an assistant coach, feeding the ball to the players who were practicing shooting.

"Sorry." Batistuta flexed his wrist and smiled at the head coach. "I was wondering - after you midfielders become coaches, do you like to help the players with shooting practice?"

"You guys?" Zidane asked.

"Yeah, you, Pep," Batistuta shrugged. "He also liked to participate (in training) when he was at Manchester City, sometimes dribbling, sometimes passing, but more often shooting."

"Maybe." Zidane kept his hands in his pockets, lightly picked up the ball and bounced it a few times, then passed it to Batistuta in front of the goal.

Batistuta turned sideways, aimed at the right position, and volleyed the ball.

'Boom! '

This time the ball did not hit the human wall. Instead, it passed over the wall and drew a beautiful arc. With a rapid fall at the last moment, the ball went into the net from the dead corner.

"Ohhhh Yes! That's beautiful Batistuta!" Richarlison next to him screamed and jumped over to hang on Batistuta, "But I still have to say, it was almost as good as my last goal in the game the day before yesterday!"

Barty staggered under the sudden weight and cursed subconsciously, "I knew you were up to no good!"

"No, no, captain, you have to believe me, I may be the person who loves you the most in the team!" Richarlison continued to talk nonsense and refused to get down from Batistuta.

Of course he was not lying. When he was playing football in Brazil, he really regarded Batistuta as a god, and this feeling has continued to this day.

"That's a heavy love." Batty replied sarcastically, and then he quickly calmed himself down and said, "Come down."

Richarlison hugged him tighter, and even reached out to tease Batistuta by pinching his chin and shaking it: "Can't you hold on, Captain?"

Barty rolled his eyes.

This kid is becoming increasingly unable to see the situation clearly.

Before the World Youth Championship, they treated him like a statue of Jesus. Then during the America's Cup, they became more familiar with each other and he was more relaxed and could play together like a normal teammate. Until last year's America's Cup, this bad guy didn't hide his true colors at all and even dared to make dirty jokes about him in the locker room.

"Yes, thank you for loving me, Richard." Batty put on a fake smile and ran a few steps while carrying Richarlison. "In this case, I have to give you a gift in return."

"What do you mean back - ah! My back!" Before Richarlison could finish his words, Batistuta grabbed his arm and threw him to the ground over his shoulder.

All kidding aside, at that moment he saw stars.

"Ha! Look at this generous return gift." King Batti sat on the back of his defeated opponent, then patted his butt proudly, "Do I love you enough, dove?"

"Enough, too much." Richarlison frowned and patted Batistuta's legs begging for mercy, "Let me go, Batistuta."

Ok?
How dare you call him that?

Batty grabbed the back of Richarlison's neck, "How dare you say my name like that!"

"Oh! Wrong, wrong!" Richarlison looked at the head coach next to him for help, "My neck is going to break!"

Zidane: …

"You still have six sets of shooting training and 6 sets of dribbling and passing training." He looked at Batistuta and said.

"You counted the wrong Zizu." Batty looked up and said, "The one you just passed to me happened to be the last one in the fifth group."

"Really?" Zidane said calmly, "Then there are still 7 sets of shooting training and 10 sets of dribbling and passing training."

Batty: ???
"Maybe I didn't count well," Zidane said, "but there are still 40 minutes left before the end of the morning training. I remember there is pudding today. If you are late--"

Upon hearing the word "Pudding", Batistuta immediately jumped up from Richarlison.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" The captain of the Brazilian team waved fiercely at the head coach, "Pass the ball, pass it to Zidane, quick!"

Zidane said calmly: "You have to ensure the quality. This is training. Training must have a purpose, and that purpose is definitely not pudding."

Batty agreed.

"Don't worry, sir, I will finish it quickly and well," he said.

Zidane nodded, and Batistuta trotted back to the goal. Zidane picked up a football and passed it to him. Batistuta stopped the ball with his toes, made a slight adjustment, and then shot around the wall to score.

Richarlison, who was saved, twisted his body exaggeratedly, then stuck out his tongue and prepared to run back to his group to continue his shooting practice.

As he ran away from Zidane, he heard the head coach say to him without even looking at him: "You too, add 3 sets of shooting and passing, and 3 more sets of confrontation and turning exercises."

Richarlison stumbled and almost fell headfirst on the sidelines of the training ground.

"You're still too weak." Zidane shook his head. "Add two more sets of strength training in the afternoon. I'll notify the nutritionist to adjust your dinner."

Richarlison: …

Is this the reason why Real Madrid was so invincible back then?

……

Due to the temperature in the afternoon, the Brazilian team conducted more indoor special training. The players could also find time to get together in groups of 3 or 5 to play the non-dropping passing game.

As dinner was approaching, Zidane held a small meeting to explain to the players the tactics of their next match against the opponent and the players who needed "special attention".

The scale of this meeting was not large, and it was not about discussing changes in tactics or anything like that, otherwise it would not have been chosen at this time before dinner.

Before the start, Batistuta stopped Paqueta and had a private chat with him. He had a performance in the first game that made him angry, and he was also criticized for his attitude in the morning training. Batistuta thought this should explain something.

"I'm not denying your ability or targeting you, Lucas. I have to talk to you from the perspective of the team." Batistuta said seriously, and didn't even call Paqueta by his affectionate nickname but the official name on his ID.

"This is the World Cup. If you want to show off and increase your value, that's fine. No one is stopping you, but you'd better be more serious," he said. "Besides, football is not just about attacking. This is not a club. No one will spoil you. If Neymar yells at you to go back to defense, then go back to defense. Do you understand?"

Paqueta didn't say anything. He scratched himself uncomfortably, stiffened his neck and turned his head to look out the window, looking very dissatisfied with Batistuta's lesson.

"I thought you passed the pre-match physical examination." Batty said sarcastically, "If your hearing is fine, just answer it. I think the head coach would not like a player with the wrong attitude to appear in the starting lineup, especially since his captain also reported this to the head coach."

Is this a threat?

Paqueta turned his head and glared at Batistuta. They were about the same height, but at first glance he was taller than Batistuta. "What?" The Brazilian captain raised his eyebrows at him, "Want to be a troublemaker?"

If you want to be a troublemaker here, you have to ask him, the former troublemaker and current captain, whether he agrees or not.

After hesitating for a while, Paqueta compromised. His chest heaved violently a few times. He opened his crossed arms and shook his head at Batistuta.

"I understand," he said. "I will train and defend like an obedient robot."

Batistuta pretended not to hear the sarcasm in his words and nodded with satisfaction: "Very good, if you can show such spirit, I believe we can leave our midfield to you without any worries."

Paqueta said nothing.

"Let's go." Batty patted his shoulder soothingly. "The gentleman has a meeting. We can't be late."

……

In the conference room, almost all of the Brazilian team had arrived. Seeing Batistuta coming in, Neymar waved and Batistuta walked over and sat down next to him.

Before he had sat down for half a minute, Ederson threw a wrist guard at Batistuta's head from behind: "There are still two hours before the French team's game, and you are the only one who hasn't placed a bet, captain!"

"What's so good about this?" Batistuta blew his hair disdainfully while spinning the capacitive pen in his hand. "The defending champions are cursed. They are missing Pogba and Kante in the midfield. They won't make it through the group stage."

"Do you really think so?" Vinicius turned his head, "They won 4-1 in the first round."

"What's wrong with 4-1?" Batty asked, "Did you see the state of Australia? I dare say we can score double digits if it were us."

"Haha! I thought you were going to remain humble this time." Ederson made a salute gesture and teased.

"Humility also depends on the situation." Batistuta gave him half a middle finger. "Our opponents this time are all the teams that have appeared so far, except France."

Then Zidane came in and started fiddling with the slides.

Batistuta didn't want to say anything more about the French team, so he waved his hand and asked his teammates to sit down. Before he could put his tablet aside to take notes, a message suddenly popped up from the captain of the French team he had just mentioned.
Augustus: (Photo-Selfie)
Augustus: I saw your blue highlights, they look great and match my red
Augustus: (Photo - Closer side view of his hair)
Augustus: Look, they are already long, I used a blue headband
Augustus: I look forward to the moment when you pull it off
Augustus: It must be hot.

Looking at the photos on the interface, Batistuta rolled his eyes to the sky, and then he replied to the French team with a series of eye-rolling expressions on the message interface.

Batty: (rolling eyes) (disgusted)
Barty: Fuck off
Augustus: Why are you so cold? I have already left a permanent mark on you.
Augustus: (lips) (lips) (kiss)

Batty: ...
Batty: I will wash you off when I get the gold cup back
Augustus: Oh!
Augustus: I'm sorry, baby.
Augustus: You can't do either.

Batty: (sneer)
Batty: As soon as I get the gold cup I will stick it in your mouth
Batty: (Red-eyed Roaring Seagull.jpg)

Augustus: Can't wait
Augustus: I mean you want to use my mouth.
Augustus: (blushing)
Augustus: See you in the final, dear.
BARTY: (Laughs)
Batty: Let's get through the group stage first

……

A few minutes later, Zidane had the curtain and slides ready.

He pulled up the Swiss team's formation diagram and said: "The Swiss team's style is tough, which is the traditional European football style. We have compiled their video analysis of the World Cup qualifiers, warm-up matches, and the last round of group matches. Compared with the tactics used in the last World Cup, the current Swiss team pays more attention to attacking in the middle. In the first round, they defeated Cameroon 1-0. In the second game, they will definitely go all out to compete for the top spot in the group."

Batistuta exited the chat interface with Augustus and muted his phone. He then spread out his tablet on the table, called up the possible starting lineup predictions, and took a capacitive pen to take careful notes.

Familiar faces appeared before him.

He still remembers how he was targeted when playing against the Swiss team four years ago.

It would be an exaggeration to describe their style as tough. If Batistuta were to describe it, he would directly use the words "dirty", "flagrant foul" and "disgraceful" to describe it.

Humph, you want to compete with them for the top spot in the group?
Just dream.

"Hey, Batistuta, Batistuta! Look at this!" Neymar called him in a low voice and poked his arm with a capacitive pen. Batistuta pushed him several times but refused to give up.
So Batty turned around and glared at him, "Are you crazy? We are in a meeting!"

"Then you should finish watching what I give you quickly so that you won't be late." Neymar smiled brightly at him, and then sent him a screenshot of the video, "I saw it on Tik Tok, let's try it later!"

Batty rolled his eyes at the floor, resisting the urge to kick the 'bad student' next to him who was not taking the meeting seriously off his chair, and glanced at the screenshot.

The picture shows a couple, they are face to face, smiling happily, and on each of their cheeks there is half a heart painted with lipstick. The patterns are very symmetrical, as if one person drew the pattern first and then the other person leaned their face against the pattern.

"What a great idea, isn't it?" Neymar whispered. "Let's make one too and use it as wallpaper. I saw a photo of Paqueta and his girlfriend on his tablet."

Indeed, this idea is very heartwarming.

But they were in a meeting now, and the screen was showing the introduction of the Swiss team's players, so Batistuta pretended to nod, then quickly found the selfies of him and Neymar in the gallery, and dragged them into the editing software. In less than a minute, he used splicing and drawing to make a very rough photo of the two of them with their faces close together.

"Okay, here you go." Batistuta sent the photo to Neymar. "Are you satisfied? Now have a good meeting and don't... um?"

Neymar's blank face interrupted his taunting.

Looking down, Neymar's tablet did not receive anything. It was then that Batistuta realized that he seemed to have chosen the wrong device when teleporting just now.

hiss--

Terrible.

Batty bit his tongue, trying to recall which device in the room he had clicked on just now, and planned to resolve it via private chat.

So who did he wear it for?

The Brazilian captain vaguely remembered that it was a person without a profile picture like Neymar, and the name below was written as -

broken!

Batty felt uneasy, it seemed like the head coach's equipment!

really.

Batistuta's bad thoughts came true. A few seconds later, the photo of the Swiss player on the big screen disappeared. Instead, it was replaced by Batistuta's homemade, pieced-together photo of him and Neymar, with their faces pressed together in a distorted way, and a not-so-decent love heart drawn in the middle with a red pen.

"Woooo!"
"Wow! Who did that? It's so funny!"
“Hahahaha help!”

There were exclamations and strange screams one after another in the conference room.

At this time, Neymar finally understood what had just happened, and his eyes changed immediately, from a slightly flattering request to a kind of gloating look of watching the show.

"Oh my God, Barty!" He exaggeratedly covered his face with his hands, "What are you thinking? You actually confessed to me here. It's so embarrassing!"

Zidane's murderous eyes immediately locked onto Batistuta from the crowd.

"By the end of the group stage, all your puddings will be cancelled," he said.

Batty: ...

It was obviously him who wanted to listen carefully at the beginning, but in the end he was the one who got punished.

At this moment, a cry of surprise came from behind——

"Hey! Look! It's over for Belgium, they lost 0-2 to Morocco!!"

(End of this chapter)