[Football] Bad Boy Batty

"Damn it, damn it, damn it—"

With extremely angry curses, the Brazilian captain returned to the player tunnel, followed by his teammates who were mostly bewildered but trying their best to comfort his teammates.

It is halftime now, the referee has just blew the whistle, and less than 2 minutes ago, there was almost bloodshed in the World Cup final.

"You did a good job, Batistuta, you held back." Neymar followed him and spoke quickly, "Relax, relax, don't let them succeed."

To be honest, this matter is a bit beyond the scope.

Neymar actually thought about it a long time ago that Augustus would do something in this final, but before the game, when he saw the guy approaching and being rejected by Batistuta, he thought that was the end of it.

Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that their relationship had eased some time ago, which lowered his vigilance.

"I did a good job. Of course I did a good job." Batty looked straight ahead and cursed as he stormed forward, as if he was talking to himself or answering.

Augustus said such outrageous words. If it weren't on the court, he swore that he would make that madman pay the price.

He should beat him.

Even kill him.

But that would bring endless trouble to him and the Brazilian team, so he held back.

Yes, Batty did nothing to Augustus, except glaring at him and trying to strangle him with his eyes.

So the referee did not make any comment.

Batistuta didn't allow himself to be given a yellow card for his irrationality in the first half.

At the same time, the commentator in the studio commented: [Augustus tried to do what Materazzi did to Zidane for some personal reasons, but Batistuta did not turn himself into the second Zidane. I think this is enough to explain something. Batistuta is a real leader. He did not put himself above the group. Perhaps this will be the turning point of the whole game. ]

‘Clang! ’

"Loach, loach! Where are you!" Batty fiercely pushed open the door of the locker room and shouted his younger brother's name as soon as he entered, "Call my godfather, quickly! I don't care about you now-"

Before he finished speaking, he stopped and looked fixedly towards the wall of the locker room.

"Bati!"

Neymar quickly caught up and stood beside Batistuta. Almost at the same time, he noticed his gaze and looked over there, and he also froze.

I saw that the wall-mounted TV on the locker room wall was turned on. It looked like a mobile phone screen with only a vertical rectangular picture in the middle. In the picture was a man's face with a flamboyant smile. Although he looked a little tired, he could not hide his exquisiteness.

Loach stood nearby, holding a tablet and waving at the people who had come to settle down one after another.

Apparently he took action before the boss spoke.

"This is……"

Richarlison was the first to speak and test the waters. He didn't quite understand what was going on. But he wasn't the only one. In the whole room, apart from Batistuta, Neymar and Loach, almost no one had seen the man on the screen like this. They had only heard of his name and seen his works.

His iconic light hair and snow-white skin, coupled with ocean-like blue eyes under equally light eyelashes, make his face so beautiful that it is almost unreal, and time cannot take away his beauty.

Yes, on the screen was Batty’s godfather, Edmundo Moreira, a famous Hollywood director who was praised as “a man who can make people fall in love at first sight” and “his works are more charming than his looks”.

The great director first looked at his godson, and after confirming that he was in good spirits, he glanced around the dressing room, then waved lazily at the camera.

"Hi, how are you guys?"

……

"Honestly, Batistuta, you surprised me," the director said. "Just now, I thought you would at least get a yellow card. It's no exaggeration to say that I was even prepared to see you get a red card, but you didn't. You exceeded expectations."

The Godfather's praise didn't make Batistuta feel much better, he was still nervous.

"Are you in the hospital?" he asked. "Where's the hound, and the butcher, and they—"

"Relax, baby." The director interrupted Batty, "I told you it's over, that means it's really over. When have I ever lied to you?"

"But the hospital's security..."

"It's very safe here. We have the highest defense standards. Unless there are attacks by 'Fat Man' and 'Little Boy', nothing will happen. Believe me."

The screen shook for a while, and the director took out his phone and quickly showed them the situation inside and outside the hospital room. He also asked the bloodhound to greet everyone.

Batty felt much more at ease at this time.

The assistant at the locker room door quietly touched Zidane's elbow, reminding him to pay attention to the time. Zidane looked at his watch and saw that there were less than 10 minutes left until the half-time break.

It doesn't matter, he thought.

As long as he can get Batistuta back to his former form, he thinks it's worth it even if he has to spend all his time connecting and playing the emotional card.

"I don't know what that Rothschild brat said to you, but I guarantee that they are all rumors and lies. They are not credible at all." The director added, "I was right about him. People like him are easily deceived. But don't worry. I have found the devil."

As he spoke, he arrived outside a ward. The moment he opened the door, he heard shocking sounds of beating, howling, and begging for mercy from inside.

Everyone looked closely and saw that the person being beaten was the instigator of all this, the director's attorney and financial advisor, Lucy.

"Look here, Lulu!" The director walked over with his phone, "It's Buddy, he's waiting to say hi to you!"

Lu Xi turned his head subconsciously. His face was bruised and swollen. It was obvious that the man who hit him really didn't hold back.

"Go to hell! Edmundo!" Lucy cursed with gritted teeth.

But obviously this is not the right choice.

The great director chuckled and glanced over -

"Wrong! Wrong! Eddie, I shouldn't have touched that boy. Forgive me, father!"

Batty noticed that Lucy called the man "father".

But before he could think more, Neymar was stunned by the scene in front of him and exclaimed.

"Oh, God!"

at this time.

"Huh?" The man in the robe who was beating someone suddenly stopped, "Who called me?"

"——No one called you." The director paused for a moment and then changed the subject. "Keep going. Don't stop. Lucy needs to learn a lesson."

After saying that, he didn't stay any longer and turned to leave the room.

"Anyway, everything is fine here, just like what you and the team did in the first half." Soon, the director brought the topic back to the game. "You are the strongest Brazilian team in recent years. Everyone in the hospital is talking about you. It's only the halfway point, and we are only one point behind. It's nothing. Unite, I know you can do it."

Batty looked at the Godfather on the screen, his eyes gradually becoming firm.

"I won't say things like 'The whole country is watching you, don't let them down'. In movies, these words are usually said by villains." To liven up the atmosphere, the director also made a little joke.

"puff--"
"Hahahahahaha!"
"really!"

For a moment, the locker room was filled with a happy atmosphere.

"Go, bring back the trophy, and bring back the sixth star we've been waiting for!"

As expected of a master at stirring emotions, the director successfully aroused everyone's fighting spirit in a short while. Before hanging up the call, he took a last look at his beloved godson.

"Barty."

Blue hits blue, like surging waves.

“I’m so proud of you.”

……

The video ended and the screen went black. Batty turned his back to everyone and lowered his head. After a few seconds, he turned around and his signature arrogant and ostentatious smile appeared on his face again.

At that moment, everyone knew that the familiar Batty was back.

"Well, you all heard it." He glanced around the locker room. "I'm not a perfect leader, but fortunately I have a good enough team. Everyone! We can still achieve our goal. Yes, it's only a 1-goal difference. If they can score, so can we!"

"Yes! It's just one goal, we can catch up!" Neymar echoed loudly, "Remember, at the end of the first half, we almost equalized! That shows that we are on the right track, right? What we did is right!"

"This is the World Cup! The game isn't over yet!" Batistuta looked at Zidane across the crowd, "Now, listen to the coach, Zidane! Tell us what we should do in the second half!"

In an instant, the players quickly stood to both sides like the sea parted by Moses, making way for the head coach.

The time has come.

Zidane pushed the tactical board to the front swiftly, and the personnel arrangements on it had already been arranged.

"From what I observed in the first half, all the coaches and I discovered that our opponent has a fatal weakness. What you need to do in the second half is to strike hard at this weakness!"

'Snapped! '

The coach's finger fell on the blue magnet that symbolized France's right winger.

The tactical thinking is very clear.

Change to the left.

……

After a short break, the two sides entered the second half. From the moment the players stepped onto the field, it was obvious that the two sides were in different states. [I don’t know what Zidane did during the halftime break. The Brazilian team now looks full of fighting spirit, especially captain Batistuta. He was almost given a card just before the end of the first half due to being irritated. I didn’t expect him to adjust his mood so quickly. I believe that the audience in front of the TV are as curious as I am about what happened in the locker room at halftime.]

[On the contrary, on the French team side - hiss, the atmosphere seems to be a little off. I don't know if the audience noticed that many of the French players had stern faces when they took the field. It felt like there was a fierce dispute going on.]

When such a situation is noticed by the commentators and the audience, it will be more obvious to the players on the field.

For Batistuta, there was a more direct manifestation of this - just as he was walking towards the pitch through the tunnel, Mbappe passed by him quickly and then obviously deliberately bumped him with his shoulder.

"Hey! Killian!" Augustus chased after him. "Sorry, he's a little emotional."

The deliberate traces are very obvious.

Batistuta, who had regained his senses, looked at his little action as if it were a harmless grasshopper. He was not sure about what Mbappe had done just now, but what was certain was that Augustus came to apologize on Mbappe's behalf intentionally.

That guy just wanted to find a sense of presence in front of him, and wanted to stimulate him again to make him lose control.

but--

Augustus hadn't expected that to work.

From a certain perspective, Batistuta should thank him. If it weren't for the disgusting thing he did in the first half, Edmundo wouldn't have called in the midfield, and the Brazilian team wouldn't have become more united.

"It's okay, I don't care."

Whether it was Mbappe, the provocation in the first half, or Augustus himself, he didn't care, not at all.

The young man with light hair and dark skin turned his head and gave his mortal enemy a charming smile.

"Come on in the second half."

After saying that, he turned and left the passage.

Augustus stood there, as if he was under a petrification spell, looking in the direction Batty left, the smile on his face gradually disappearing.

Things didn't seem to be developing as he had expected.

Something is slipping out of control.

……

After the change of sides, neither side made any substitutions.

The French team intentionally reduced the frequency of attacks, apparently ready to maintain their advantage, but at the same time they also increased the intensity of the midfield fight. It was obvious that Deschamps was also worried. After all, they were only leading by one goal and the opponent was the Brazilian team, so they could not relax too early.

On the Brazilian side, following Zidane's instructions, the overall attack direction was changed to the left, focusing on Dembele and Kounde behind him, who were not good at assisting in counterattacks.

This method was actually used in the first half, but it did not pose much threat to the French team, so Deshan did not make any adjustments in this regard. It was this arrangement that played exactly into the hands of the Brazilian team.

In the 60th minute, Brazil's strategy finally paid off.

Casemiro took the ball from the backcourt and launched an attack, using a small-scale pass and cut to quickly reach the middle. Seeing that Batistuta was about to take the ball and turn around, Augustus called on his teammates to assist in defense, and Kounde also moved into the middle to put pressure.

But Batistuta didn't even think about taking the ball and turning around. All he had to do was pass the ball to the almost empty left side.

"Ney!"

Batistuta jumped with his back to the goal and headed the ball. Neymar received the ball and started to move. He did not choose the ribs but went to the outside because only in this way would he have the opportunity to face the defender 1v1.

Since Kounde had to defend against Batistuta's operations in the middle, the only reserve left to defend Neymar was Dembele.

Remember what Batistuta and Neymar said in the first half?

"You lie to him."

Neymar did that.

Facts have proved that Dembele's experience and defensive ability are really not good enough. After seeing Neymar shake off him and enter the penalty area, he had nothing left in his head and rashly reached out to block it.

[beep——]
The whistle sounded, Neymar fell to the ground, and the referee pointed to the 12 yard spot.

[Penalty! Penalty! Neymar made a contribution! The referee awarded a penalty! In the 61st minute of the game, Brazil found a chance to equalize the score! Dembele, as a winger, took on more defensive tasks in this World Cup. He had been doing well before, but today he faced Neymar. The experienced Neymar almost tricked him into committing a defensive foul with just his eyes. ]

In front of the goal, the French players surrounded the referee to explain, but the referee looked firm. He saw clearly that there was no problem with Dembele's foul.

Batistuta came to Neymar and pulled him up from the ground. The referee came over with the ball and asked who would take the penalty. Before Batistuta could speak, Neymar took the ball and stuffed it into Batistuta's arms.

"Here he comes," Neymar said.

"You don't want it?" Batty asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," Neymar answered honestly, "but I want to see you break the record more."

If this goal had gone in, Batistuta would have been just one step away from Klose's record.

"Go ahead, don't dawdle." Neymar pushed Batistuta, "First we draw, then we overtake, and then - we take the trophy and go home."

"it is good."

Batty took a deep breath and walked to the penalty spot with his commitment.

Miraculously, he didn't feel much pressure.

Even though the whole world was watching him.

Including Ronaldinho, Ronaldinho and a group of Brazilian legends who came to the scene today, De Bruyne who was hiding among the fans, Edmundo and Bloodhound who could not come to the scene, as well as Qiaolin and the hundreds of thousands of viewers in her live broadcast room.

Everyone held their breath and watched Batistuta as he was about to take a penalty kick.

"Come on!"

In front of the goal, French goalkeeper Hugo Lloris was ready to receive Batistuta's penalty. As long as he saved the ball, he would become a national hero and receive higher honors than the previous session, which is what everyone dreams of.

But the prerequisite is that he has to jump out.

Batty focused his attention on the game ball. He raised his hand to brush away the hair on his forehead and made a directional decision without hesitation.

Just like the last time he faced Martin, he had to combine Neymar's usual techniques and use speed changes to confuse his opponent.

[beep——]
As the referee blew the whistle, Batty started.

Run up and shoot.

'left!'

At that moment, as if time was slowed down infinitely, Lori clearly saw Batty turn his ankle, and he immediately made a judgment and pounced to his left.

but--

'etc! '

wrong.

Not the left.

Yes, Batty kicked to his left, that is, to Lori's right. The ball was not very powerful, and it almost went into the goal along the grass. Lori guessed the direction wrong and could only watch the goal being breached.

[The ball went in! The goalkeeper was fooled, 1-1! At 63 minutes and 11 seconds in the second half, the Brazilian team equalized the score! ]

"Ahhhh!"

Batty shouted and rushed to the sidelines, sliding on his knees to celebrate, as if venting all the remaining negative emotions. Then he lay down and greeted his teammates who followed him.

However, the imagined squeezing feeling did not appear, Neymar knelt on him and took most of the "pressure".

"I knew you were going to be okay, Barty!" he exclaimed, laughing. "You're going to break the record!"

[Bati! This is his 7th goal in this World Cup. His total number of goals in the World Cup has reached 16, tying Klose's record! ]

The broadcast camera cut to Ronaldo who was watching the game in the stands.

"Yeah!" Batty raised his lips, "Keep going! Keep scoring goals! I want both the championship and the record!"

of course.

All will be yours.

Neymar leaned over to whisper in Batistuta's ear.

"We'll score again," he said. "When that happens, Batistuta, let's do something big again."

"What's the big deal?"

Neymar smiled even more, but did not answer Batistuta's question.

"You'll know when the time comes," he said.

[There are nearly 30 minutes left in the game. Will there be more goals? And can Batistuta surpass Klose's record of scoring an astonishing 17 goals in just two World Cups? Let's wait and see! ]

(End of this chapter)