[Football] Bad Boy Batty

卡塔尔当地时间12月2日晚9点, 本届世界杯G组第3轮巴西对阵喀麦隆的比赛重回卢赛尔球场进行，已提前出线的巴西无欲无求，轮换9人, 仅有米利唐和弗雷德继续出场。

Batistuta wore an orange substitute vest and watched the game on the sidelines. Although the game was intense, the camera would be pointed at him from time to time, trying to find even a hint of unusual signs from him.

Obviously people were more concerned about their captain than the Brazilian substitutes on the field.

Apart from the explosive news that a civil war broke out in the Rio slums after Brazil defeated Switzerland 3-0 in the second round of the group stage and that the Brazilian team was on their way back to the hotel, they never saw Batistuta again, not even in the post 36 hours later when the Brazilian team officially announced that the captain would continue to stay in Qatar to help the team win the Gold Cup.

It was as if someone had tampered with the news, and the news was kept leak-proof. People knew nothing about it, and were naturally very anxious.

But they were anxious as they pleased, Batti didn't care at all.

He sat on the bench, his hands naturally crossed on his legs, his eyes looking straight ahead, but it seemed as if nothing on the court or around him could stay in his eyes, like an irrelevant person.

Neymar was sitting next to him, talking non-stop, chatting with Batistuta since the start of the game, but Batistuta's expression didn't change much from beginning to end, just a smile, a grin with curved eyes, and a nod without much of a smile.

Highly praised real-time comments:
Where did the Brazilian team find a robot that looks exactly like BBB?
It’s no wonder people think so. The captain of the Brazilian team didn’t cry or make a fuss. He just sat there the entire game. People also watched the entire game, but in the end, they still didn’t see anything.

In the 63rd minute of the second half, Cameroon broke the deadlock first, and then Zidane began to make substitutions. He used up all five substitutions and replaced all the important players except Batistuta, Neymar, and Casemiro.

But in the end, Brazil still lost 0-1 to the African Lions. After several offensive players were substituted, their number of shots jumped to more than 25, but the conversion rate was surprisingly low. Many fans lamented: It seems that the Brazilian team without NBC (Neymar, Batistuta, and Semiro) is the real Brazilian team.

As for Zidane's real intention in doing this, perhaps it has been inadvertently revealed by fans in a joking tone.

As the old saying goes, be confident, but don't be blind and overconfident.

This also created a new record for this World Cup: the first time that no team qualified by winning all its group matches.

After the game, on the bus, Paqueta quietly switched seats with Neymar and went to Batistuta. He fiddled with his fingers a little nervously, and his tongue, teeth and lips prepared for a long time before he turned around and whispered, "I'm sorry, Batistuta, it's all my fault."

After these words were spoken, although the entire carriage did not immediately become quiet, it was certain that everyone pricked up their ears and listened attentively.

"Huh? Why are you apologizing all of a sudden?" Batty looked over and looked at Paqueta with a puzzled look, "What did you do, Pachi (he gave Paqueta a cute nickname these days)?"

"I mean...I didn't mean to show you the news that day."

“Ah, oh.” Batty seemed to finally react. He smiled at Paqueta and pinched Paqueta’s face. “What does that have to do with you? It’s not like you betrayed Delain and killed the butcher.”

Paqueta didn't feel any better because of this. He lowered his head and said, "But if I hadn't been stupid enough to put the tablet in your bag and let you take it on purpose, you would have at least learned the news in a better situation."

"Haha!" Batistuta laughed cheerfully. "It has nothing to do with you, really. It has already happened. No matter who shows it to me, it won't change anything. I also want to thank you for letting me know earlier in the locker room, and for giving me a little buffer time on the way back to the hotel. If I had known it after we got back, I might have already rushed back to Brazil."

These words made Paqueta feel less guilty, but the tone of voice, which was completely different from Batistuta's usual tone, still made him unhappy.

"No, Patch, don't do that." Batty patted the curly hair on his head. "I saw your performance today. It was really great. You have made great progress. You no longer leave all the gaps in the midfield and backcourt to your teammates to solve."

Paqueta was stunned. He didn't expect Batistuta to suddenly mention his performance on the court. He had already done everything according to the tactical requirements in this game, with 100% commitment, but they didn't win. He was a little frustrated, and Batistuta's words were like a pot of boiling water poured on the ice.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

"Really. Your defensive pressure at the end was crucial. Without you, Cameroon would have scored from Vaughan's left and we might have been 2-0." Batistuta smiled again, his eyes curved and looking very gentle. "I'm glad that you can resist the urge to move forward for the team. It's really not easy. Thank you, Paquet."

Paqueta was on the verge of tears, and for a moment he even completely forgot about the image of the arrogant captain who had severely reprimanded him outside the meeting room that day.

He stared at Batty blankly.

Damn, is this an angel, Paquita thought, and he felt like his heart and the bones in his chest were about to melt.

"Why do you look like you're about to cry?" Batty smiled and gave him a hug. "I'm not praising you. I'm just stating the facts, that's all."

Paqueta hugged his captain back vigorously.

Fortunately, the window next to Batistuta had curtains drawn. If it weren't for the curtains, Paqueta was sure that his expression would be reflected very ugly on them.

"It's okay." Batty patted him on the back. "We are going for the six-star Brazil."

Everyone in the car heard their conversation.

Although everything seemed calm on the surface, with several players who were close to each other in the club sitting together and humming tunes with tambourines, underneath, or deeper down, the undercurrent that was originally surging became turbulent.

Their Brazilian captain is the best in the world, no objection.

If they could, they would die for him.

……

After getting off the car, Batistuta said hello to Zidane and went back to the room. At the same time, Neymar quietly sent a message to someone on his mobile phone.

"It's time to move."

Batty, oblivious to his vice-captain's little trick, opened the door, walked in, threw himself on the bed, and manually tore away all the pretense.

He must have been restless, as he was so impatient that he wanted to rush to the Colosseum and fight the wild beasts with his bare hands.

The day before yesterday, his godfather answered his call in a normal tone, and told him to play well, which meant that he and Delain were still alive. He knew that he should be relieved and return to the team at this time, but he couldn't do it.

Batty couldn't ignore the fact that the people he loved were dying while he was chasing that gold trophy.

This wasn't some annoying, fuzzy little problem; it was a hidden injury stuck in his throat that stung every time he swallowed.

Suddenly, the ringing of the cell phone interrupted Batty's buzzing thoughts.

The young captain looked at the screen in a decadent posture. The caller was someone he never expected - the former captain of the Brazilian team, Dani Alves.

"Hi, what's up?" Batty didn't want to answer the call. He really didn't have the energy to deal with extra people and things, but he couldn't control his fingers and they accidentally clicked the connection button.

"Hey Batty, we're running out of time. I'll try to get this over with as quickly as possible." Alves seemed to be completely oblivious to the other person's negative attitude. He spoke into the microphone in a tone like a secret agent, "I've met your godfather. He asked me to tell you something."

Batty: !!!!!!
No kidding, at that moment he almost jumped up from the bed.

"Yeah, I'm back in Brazil," Alves said. "I'm planning to find a new club to play for. I'm in Rio right now, and it just so happens..."

Batty didn't even listen to what he said, and interrupted the former captain directly: "He found you? What did he say? How did he find you? Why didn't he call me himself? Where's Delain? Is he okay? How are the others?"

"Uh," Alves was a little flustered. He didn't expect Batistuta to ask so many questions at once. "Wait, wait, let me think about it. Oh no, no, I did meet your godfather. I wrote down what he said on paper. Wait for me to look for it."

Batty calmed down instantly.

He is not a fool. Especially when facing this matter, he may not be able to control his emotions well, but his IQ and experience are always online.

It was impossible for Edmundo to contact him through Alves. Batistuta knew that his godfather was a person who was very afraid of trouble and hated people who were indecisive in their words and deeds (except for his husband Phoenix River, with whom he had quarreled all his life). If the situation was stable and he could be contacted, he would definitely call him personally to tell him that everything was fine.

Maybe he will also make a threat, such as - There is a TV here, I can see your bad performance on the court. Baby Batistuta, play well for me, I really want that sixth gold cup, bring it back.

"Ha! I found it!"

Alves' excited voice came back into the receiver. He cleared his throat and pretended to read out Edmundo's message to Batty: "Everything is fine, my dear godson. It's almost over here. Delane is fine. He just needs to rest for a few days. We can use this time to catch the traitor. Yes, the bastard escaped and hasn't shown his face yet, but don't worry. We can almost confirm his identity. If... you weren't listening at all, right Batty?"

The former captain of Brazil was not a fool either. He quickly noticed something strange on the other side of the microphone. When he asked the last question, Batistuta gave him the answer in silence.

"Uh, Barty?"
"What."

“I’m really in Brazil.”
"Ah."

"I actually met your godfather."
"Ah."

"They're really fine."
"Ah."

"Do you believe me?"
"Yeah." "Then will you return to normal and train well to play games, not waste the World Cup opportunity and stop Neymar from bothering me again?"
"Ah."

"...Why do you always say um? Can you say something else?"
"Ah."

This little——

Alves almost choked himself with his breath, and swallowed the word "bastard" back. He took a deep breath and looked up at the screen. Batistuta hadn't hung up yet.

"Anyway." He changed the subject somewhat abruptly, "You are the captain now, Batistuta, you are responsible for the team."

Batty said nothing, just listened.

"Well, even if you are heartless and not responsible for the team, you have to be responsible for Neymar," Alves said. "He really loves you. I didn't want to help him do this, but he begged me and sent me messages whenever he was free. He also kept telling me not to reveal the truth. I suspect he is really willing to throw me into the slums full of bullets to appease you."

In the room, out of sight of Alves, the emotion on Batistuta's face was obvious.

This matter seems nonsensical at first glance. Finding a person in Brazil to lie to him that the Godfather had given him a message is almost a fabrication, using false information to reassure him.

but.

This is really, how should I put it, Neymar's way of caring, with a childlike innocence, completely for his own good, regardless of the consequences.

Batty should have been angry, but he just couldn't. He even felt touched after this white lie was exposed.

"Honestly, this method is a bit stupid, but don't blame him. He really loves you, no matter what kind of person you are, teammate, friend, or... in any aspect," Alves added.

Batty sensed something was wrong.

"What are you talking about, Dani?" he asked warily.

"Don't pretend. I saw it all." Alves blew a breath and said, "At the 19 America's Cup, you were injured and I went to visit you as the captain. That night, you were alone in the clinic. At about 11 o'clock, guess what I saw?"

This has been made very clear.

Batistuta lowered his eyelids and used his teeth to tear the corners of his mouth. If it was at that moment, he and Neymar would probably be the only ones doing some fun and shady sports.

"So, boy, you see, he really loves you, even though he used a stupid way this time." Alves said, not forgetting to belittle his former teammates again, "Not just Neymar, Bloodhound, your Godfather, Guardiola, and many others I don't know. So many people love you. If you let yourself indulge in sadness and panic, how can you be worthy of their love for you?"

Batty wanted to say something, but he found that his brain was stuck and he couldn't utter a word of rebuttal.

"Also, although I didn't meet your two legendary family members, I was in Rio. There are a lot of rumors here, and I believe they must be planning something somewhere." Alves' tone became serious, "You know the slums, where anything can disappear, but when everyone says they don't know or have never seen a person or something, it definitely means something, you know better than me."

This woke Batty up.

Yes, the slums are like hell, sometimes even the bodies cannot be found, but what is most lacking is spies, those kids on the streets, their eyes are sharper than cameras. If they all say they don't know, then there are only two possibilities, one is that the thing has indeed not entered the slums, and the other is that the thing has been moved from a place they can't see.

He had been the leader of those kids, and he knew it.

"Thank you, Dani." Batty thanked him seriously, "You've been a great help."

Hearing this, Alves on the other end of the phone relaxed and whistled. He had finally completed the task assigned to him by Neymar.

"Take care, Batistuta," he said. "You and Neymar."

"We will," Batistuta promised. "Thank you, and thank you Ney for your stupid lie. I won't expose him, at least not before the World Cup is over."

"That puts my mind at ease, Captain." Alves changed his tone to teasing, "There is one more thing, Batistuta, you must remember."

"Well, you said."

"The Gold Cup," Alves stated their common goal. "It's been 20 years. I was not able to bring it back when I was the captain. Now the task is handed over to you. Go and show those guys who are full of utilitarianism a lesson. Use our football, Brazilian football, to bring back the Gold Cup."

It was not until today, the day when the World Cup group stage ended, that the handover between the two generations of captains of the Brazilian team was truly completed.

Batty took a deep breath.

He said, “We will.”

……

After finishing the call with Alves, Batistuta turned over and lay flat on the bed, looking at the chandelier on the ceiling. He felt incomparable comfort in his limbs.

When was the last time you felt this way?

Batty doesn't remember.

But he remembered that it was definitely not the past two days, nor after coming to Qatar. He had not had a good sleep for a long time. Every time he either fell asleep in anxiety or pulled Neymar to do it until he almost fainted. It was really a long time since he had felt so comfortable.

It's like sleeping on a cloud.

Delane and Du are fine, they are planning a big game (maybe), Brazil lost the last group match, but they are still the top, Paqueta, who wanted to be a troublemaker, has been trained by him to become a docile sheep, and he is recovering from fatigue. Everything is going in the right direction.

As he thought about it, Batti's eyelids began to twitch.

Just when he was about to fall asleep, there was a knock on the door, and the knocks were continuous, as if the knocks would keep coming unless he opened the door.

"Damn it!"

Batistuta had no choice but to open his eyes and jumped out of bed angrily to open the door. He swore that no matter who was outside, he would not forgive the other person (if it was Neymar, he might give him a discount).

The door opened.

Batty was slapped in the face.

Because the person squatting at the door was not a person, but a tabby cat, and not just an ordinary tabby cat. This was an old friend, and Batty even gave him a name, Xiao Yangmei.

"Oh——" The captain's expression changed instantly. He squatted down and rubbed the cat's back gently. "What are you doing here, baby? Tell me, which bad guy captured you?"

The cat, of course, couldn't talk. He rubbed around Batty's hand, and as he stood up, Batty discovered that there was a card under his fat (or plump?) butt.

"Hmm?" He picked up the card. "This is--"

The card was light blue, the same color as his highlighted hair, and had two words written on it: "Go downstairs."

Batty was very familiar with this font, but when he took a sudden look at it, he suddenly couldn't remember who wrote it. In order to figure out what this was about, Batty picked up Xiao Yangmei, walked into the elevator and went downstairs.

When he arrived at the lobby on the first floor, there were several identical cards on the ground with different instructions written on them, as if guiding him somewhere.

What's going on so mysteriously?
In order to satisfy his curiosity, Batistuta followed the card all the way and finally arrived at the external reception room arranged by the Brazilian team.

This place is used for some interviews or meeting videos. It was here that he and Neymar met Ronaldo at the beginning of the World Cup.

Standing in front of the door, the team leader took another deep breath.

Let him see who is doing what.

He pushed open the door and was greeted by a familiar sofa, on which sat two people whom he had never expected to see again after Alves.

"Pep? Kevin? Why are you here?"

(End of this chapter)