The road to godhood starting from Ligue 1

Chapter 336 This day, football belongs to Bastia
"0-2 is not the end, it's the starting point for us to create miracles in 45 minutes!"

He slammed his marker against the tactical board, making a piercing sound: "Forget all that nonsense, forget all the noise. In the second half, we'll only do one thing—attack! Overwhelm them with offense!"

"Salvio!" he pointed to the right winger. "I want you to be like a knife piercing the flanks, reducing the need for defensive recovery. Your job is to pin down their full-backs and prevent them from coming forward. This is the moment for a head-to-head battle!"

"Gaitan, you need to be more decisive with your cuts inside, switch positions with Rodrygo, and disrupt their defensive setup!"

"Enzo, your passes need to be faster and more risky! Be bold with through balls and behind the defense!"

"Both full-backs!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Push forward! Attack like wingers! Keep them pinned down in their own half!"

He paused for a moment, letting the tactical instructions resonate in everyone's hearts, then his tone suddenly changed, taking on an almost tragic and stirring quality:
“I know what you’re thinking, that curse, that half-century nightmare.” His voice lowered. “The media says we’re doomed tragic heroes, but I’m telling you—to hell with the curse!”

He slammed his fist on the tactical board: "Words are spoken, and records are broken! Tonight, right here in Amsterdam, I want you to personally tear Guttmann's name off our tombstones!"

"45 minutes! Use your running, your passing, your fighting spirit to turn this stadium into our hell and their graveyard!"

"Let those who say we'll never win the final shut their mouths forever!"

At last,
He surveyed the entire arena, his voice hoarse yet resolute: "Either we leave here with a comeback that will be remembered for a hundred years, or we die here. There is no middle ground!"

"In the second half, let's take back what's rightfully ours!"

Veteran Luisão was the first to jump to his feet. He ripped off his already soaked jersey, threw it to the ground, revealing his muscular upper body, and roared with reddened eyes, "Fight! What are you afraid of! We have nothing left to lose!"

"Count me in!"

"Fight!"

The Benfica players' resolute voices echoed from the locker room; when a season has come to this point, no one wants to be a loser.

Liverpool's 0-3 defeat could still be miraculous, and Benfica, wearing the same red jerseys, will also write the same miracle night in Amsterdam!
Benfica's possible tactical arrangements are obvious.

Unless they choose to give up.

Therefore,
Hagi Begic drew two closely spaced parallel lines on the tactics board in the locker room—representing a tight 4-4-2 defensive formation.

“Listen, lads,” he began, his gaze sweeping over all the players, “we’ve come to a moment we know well again, leading at halftime. I’m sure you’re all used to moments like this. Yes, we’re just 45 minutes away from making history.”

Saying,

The players in the locker room all laughed. They had won the French Cup, the French Super Cup, and the Ligue 1 title, and they were always the ones leading at halftime.

Haji Begichi spoke calmly.

"What will they do in the second half? They'll go crazy, they'll come crashing down like a flood, that's their only option, and our option is—"

He banged on the defensive formation on the tactics board, "Become the hardest reef and smash their waves to pieces!"

Haji Begichi's gaze was intense as it swept over each equally determined face.

"Kevin, drop back ten meters. Your task is no longer to create chances, but to intercept and deliver the ball. Once you get the ball, don't dribble. Use your most accurate long passes to find Young and Romelu in the attacking third."

"Ngolo, Rothen, you need to block off this area at the edge of the penalty area. Facing our deep defense, they will definitely want to try long shots. Don't give them an inch of space. Make them only able to cross, unable to shoot from long range or cut inside to shoot."

"In the back line, the four of you must be like a moving wall. Joplin, you will be in charge of them. You all need to pay attention to your positions, maintain distance, and compress the space!"

Having discussed the defensive end...

Hagi Bejic then looked at the attacking end, "Romero, your task is to mark their center-backs, put maximum pressure on them, and use your big body to try to become a pivot point, or break down their defense."

“Yang,” Haji Begitch looked at the ace one last time, “you are the best terminator in the world in my heart. Stay at the front to conserve your energy and wait for your chance. I believe that just once, you can kill all the suspense.”

"it is good!"

Gaio nodded, and everyone else nodded vigorously as well.

We're just one step away from making history.

No one is willing to stop the fire from reaching the mountain.

"They will have possession, they will have shots, and they might even score." Hagi Bejic frankly admitted his conservative approach, "But what we want is the final result. If we can withstand the pressure for these 45 minutes, we can etch our names into history!"

He surveyed the entire room one last time, his voice not loud, but carrying immense weight:

"Once we're out there, let Amsterdam remember this: it's not just offense that wins applause; the ultimate defense, calm patience, and a decisive counterattack can also bring the greatest victories."

"Fight for each other, fight for everyone who believes in us."

He didn't shout slogans, he just clapped his hands vigorously.

Inside the locker room, the players' breathing grew heavier, and the joy in each of their eyes gradually transformed into unwavering focus and determination.

They knew that the second 45 minutes would be an even more brutal battle.

No one will give up in the final.

During halftime, the Bastia fans' stands were still filled with ecstasy, tears, and an unbelievable sense of happiness.

This sentiment not only swept through the Amsterdam Arena, but also, through the broadcast, ignited the island of Corsica, thousands of miles away.

The central figure in everyone's conversation was only one name: Jan Gaio.

"Gaio is a god!"

"He tore Benfica's defense to shreds! They simply couldn't stop him!"

"Look! The whole world will remember his name! He is our hero!"

The atmosphere at the Cesar Stadium in Corsica is even more intense and frenetic than in Amsterdam.

Gaio's two goals were repeatedly replayed on a huge projection screen.

Each replay triggered a deafening roar and stomping, shaking the entire stadium stands!
Beer was thrown into the air like a fountain, appearing like golden rain under the searchlights.

A middle-aged man in a retro jersey made a video call, pointing the camera at the cheering stands. He cried out to his friend in Amsterdam, "Can you hear me?! This is our home! You have to send our voices to the Netherlands! Tell Yang that we can't be here, but we are with him!"

The same cheers emanated from every bar, square, and even the windows of every house in Bastia.

The sound of car horns was incessant, as if the entire island was cheering for their team.

The entire island of Corsica is watching.

This is no longer just a grand event for Bastia, but for all Corsicaese people.

Bastia represents Corsica and France.

Gaio is a hero to all French football fans!

This half of the game allowed everyone to see Gaio's undeniable talent.

Liverpool, the capital of Merseyside, England.

David Dunn, along with Abdullah and others, watched the game in the hotel's conference room.

Midfield.

Abdullah said to Dunn, "Look what kind of core we'll have, haha, I believe that once the acquisition of Liverpool is completed, we will become a highly competitive team in the Premier League!"

Seeing Gaio's brilliance, Dunn had long envisioned building a team around Gaio and creating a Champions League-winning squad.

He said with a smile, "Of course, we will create our second Premier League miracle here!"

In his mind, the first Premier League legend was Arsenal's unbeaten season.

That was the eternal fairy tale in his heart.

London.

Wenger let out a long sigh.

Abu remained expressionless, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the desk.

Madrid.

FP's eyes were fixed intently on him as he seriously considered the possibility of Real Madrid signing Gaio. He really didn't want to negotiate with Tottenham's owner, Levy.

In the office of the Espino training base on the other side of the city, Simeone was showing Cerezo and Gil his plan on how to build a team around Gaião, break Real Madrid and Barcelona's monopoly on La Liga, and reach the top of Europe.

Fifteen minutes is very short.

When the players from both sides returned to the field, the stadium erupted in cheers once again.

The commentator's voice was full of energy, with the stadium roaring back into action in the background: "Welcome back to the Amsterdam Arena, ladies and gentlemen! The second half of the Europa League final is about to begin!"

"The past 45 minutes belonged to Bastia and to Jan Gaio's two stunning goals, but a football match lasts 90 minutes, and the remaining 45 minutes will decide everything."

"What will Jorge Jesus do? There's no other answer—attack, push forward with all his might! They have no way out; only attack can create miracles! Salvio, Gaitán, Rodrygo—perhaps we will see a Portuguese eagle unleashing its full attacking instincts!"

"And Hagi Bejić's Bastia is best known for his counter-attacking style this season. Teams like Atlético Madrid, Chelsea, Inter Milan, and Tottenham Hotspur all know how tough their defense is and how sharp their counter-attacks are."

"This will be the ultimate clash of contradictions! On one side is a frenzied attack, all-out and determined to turn the tide; on the other is a rock-solid, deadly counterattack, waiting for its chance to strike!"

"Regardless of the outcome, tonight's Europa League final is destined to be a highly anticipated and talked-about match."

At this moment, the stands of the Amsterdam Arena transformed into two oceans with contrasting yet equally passionate emotions.

Two extreme emotions collided and ignited at both ends of the field, painting the Amsterdam night sky with the most moving colors in the football world.

Gaio followed his teammates toward the center circle.

They high-fived each other again on the way, and after reaching the middle circle, they put their hands on each other's shoulders and leaned slightly forward to form a circle.

As captain, Gaio looked at every face so close to his and said firmly, "Last half, come on! Stay focused!"

"Fight, Bastia!!"

Everyone roared together, filled with determination, and scattered, running towards their positions.

the other side.

The Benfica players were also giving their final pep talk.

Keppers shouted for both teams to hurry up, and after checking the time, everything was ready.

drop! !

The whistle blew!

The second half, which will determine the final Europa League champion, has officially begun!
As soon as the second half whistle blew, Benfica's attack crashed into Bastia's half like a tsunami, with the crimson waves launching a near-frenzied assault with resolute determination.

The Bastia players were well-prepared.

A firm retreat is necessary.

At the same time, we will try our best to provide enough resistance and absolutely not give Benfica any room to organize comfortably.

Most of Benfica's players are from South America, so their footwork is excellent, and their short passing and individual skills are also very good.

The two head coaches on the sidelines both had the same serious expression this time.

On the field,

Benfica quickly moved the ball into Bastia's half. Salvio received the ball on the left wing and, without hesitation, darted straight to the byline like a sharp knife, forcefully shaking off the defense before crossing the ball!
Inside the penalty area, Cardoso finally managed to get past Van Dijk with a run-back, leaped high, and unleashed a powerful header that whistled past the crossbar.

Wow!

Benfica fans were filled with heart-wrenching regret; if they had managed to pull one back early on, their chances of a comeback would have been much greater!
Bastia fans, on the other hand, felt they had escaped a disaster.

After seeing the ball go out of bounds, Joplin patted Van Dijk on the shoulder to encourage his younger teammate, hoping that the failure to defend the ball would not affect his mentality.

What defensive players fear most is an unstable mentality.

Van Dijk is clearly still young and needs to accumulate a lot of experience.

Bastia took the kickoff.

Benfica continued their relentless pressing, but Bastia still had the same old problems, relying mainly on Rothen and De Bruyne for passing the ball, with only Sidibe among the two full-backs capable of moving forward.

Angula is good at defense, but asking him to do something offensively is a bit demanding for a former Muay Thai veteran who switched to football later in life.

De Bruyne wanted to dribble the ball out.

But they were quickly intercepted by a double team.

Hagi Bejic on the sidelines shook his head repeatedly. He had told De Bruyne to reduce his dribbling, but De Bruyne still wanted to push forward at a time like this.

The opponent won't let him dribble the ball so easily.

"They're still young, after all," Hagi Bejic sighed, hoping the team could hold on.

Benfica's offensive continues!
Two minutes later, Gaitan and Rodrygo played a brilliant one-two pass at the edge of the box, and Gaitan unleashed a powerful shot!
Bastia goalkeeper Martinez made a diving save, narrowly tipping the ball away with one hand.

"Keep an eye on them!"

Martinez, disregarding his youth, roared at the defense, clearly having failed to mark his man properly.

The Bastia players then realized that this match would not be easy.

Take deep breaths repeatedly to adjust.

The corner kick is taken.

This time, Van Dijk headed the ball away first.

Although Cardozo couldn't get the ball, he still collided hard with Van Dijk.

Both of them fell to the ground.

drop!
The referee called an attacking foul on Benfica.

Cardozo, who couldn't even touch the ball, still chose to attack like this. It can only be said that Benfica players now have a desperate fire burning in their eyes. Every tackle is full of risks, and every forward run is reckless.

Van Dijk clutched his ribs, wincing in pain.

On the other side, Cardoso was fine and quickly got up, after all, he was the one who took the initiative.

The team doctor rushed onto the field.

After checking on Van Dijk's condition and letting him rest for a while, Van Dijk prepared to get up, but was pressed back down by the team doctor.

"You're not ready yet."

The team doctor glanced at Van Dijk.

Van Dijk instantly understood, and then lay on the ground, grimacing.

The Bastia players also took this opportunity to rest.

Gaio walked over to De Bruyne and said, "They will double-team you. Pass the ball out as soon as possible. If there's no opportunity, pass it back to Rothen and let him shoot a long ball. We won't go down the ground."

Rothen nodded in agreement.

De Bruyne was also aware that he had been a bit too hasty, having lost possession quite a few times in this match. "Okay, then you guys be careful."

Gaio looked at the Benfica players.

Under their all-out, frenzied attack, the vast hinterland behind them was like a dangerous wilderness that had been quietly opened up.

Gaio knew that what he needed was to make use of this wilderness!

No matter how long it was delayed, Van Dijk still managed to get back up.

He walked off the field with the help of the team doctor.

Simultaneously,

After the kickoff, the teammates did not rush to attack, but waited for Van Dijk to return to his position, and Benfica obviously would not waste such an opportunity.

After the kickoff, they immediately pressed forward to win the ball.

The ball was passed back to Martinez, but he didn't dare to hold onto it for long. Although he was Argentinian, his footwork wasn't particularly good at the moment.

Bang!
He kicked it hard.

The ball was lobbed towards the center circle.

Martinez's clearance, however, found Lukaku, who was receiving the ball with his back to goal near the center circle.

Lukaku used his strong body to hold off Luisão, who was closely marking him from behind. The two were almost entangled, but Lukaku was younger and stronger.

He managed to stop the ball.

Although the ball was stopped a little far away from him, he reacted quickly and moved forward a few steps to control it.

Subsequently,

He didn't turn around; as he ran back, he saw Gaio charging forward again.

A direct cross!
Rodrygo realized Lukaku's intention and threw himself out in an attempt to intercept with a flying tackle.

However, Lukaku's ball speed was faster, and Rodrygo was a step too slow.

When Gaio saw Damian kick the ball out, he had already spotted the opportunity and quickly moved forward, now facing Lukaku's pass.

He was also quickly followed by Gaitan and Melgarejo in defense.

The situation on the court was entirely in Gaio's mind.

As the ball came, Gaio didn't stop it; instead, he took a sharp step forward with the ball.

Then, it accelerated wildly!
Melgarejo and Gaitan found themselves unable to keep up with Gaio even with the accelerator floored.

As Gaio dribbled the ball, he kept moving towards the central penalty area.

Gareth came over to cover, closing in on Gaio and trying to get close.

however,
When Gaio saw him coming, he suddenly accelerated a second time, a pure crushing speed advantage!
This Argentine international knew that Gaio was very fast. Before the match, Jesus specifically emphasized that Gaio was fast but weak in physical confrontation.

So his first thought was to have sex with her.

but,

Gaio didn't even give him a chance to use his body!

In the blink of an eye, Gaio was facing the goalkeeper!
Wow!
The Bastia fans at the stadium couldn't sit still any longer; they all stood up and craned their necks to look at Gaio.

Both hands were already in front of her chest.

When they score, they raise their arms high above their heads and cheer in celebration; if they miss, they hold their heads in regret.

This is a set of procedures.

now,

Morais rushed out of his goal and charged madly toward Gaio, the two meeting less than two meters inside the penalty area line.

Without slowing down, Gaio deftly flicked the ball to the right front, shifting Morais's center of gravity before cutting back.

With that dunk, Moraes was completely out of position.

He instinctively reached out his right hand to try and catch the ball, but Gaio was too fast, and when he reached out, he hit Gaio's ankle.

Gaio staggered.

He did not fall to the ground.

Now is the time when a goal is most needed. If it were outside the penalty area, he would definitely be down and waiting for a red card, but inside the penalty area, with the score at this point, it will most likely be a yellow card and a penalty.

In this situation, the place is completely empty, so what's the point of dumping anything?
The enhanced attributes helped him quickly stabilize his body. Gaio braced himself on the ground, quickly got up, and before the opposing defender could get back into position, he pushed the ball into the net.

The empty goal was scored!

3-0!

The entire Bastia stand erupted in cheers once again.

"Goal! Gaio! 3-0!"

"A hat trick, a hat trick in the final! He's a god! He's the god of Bastia!"

The roars of thousands of fans bursting from the depths of their chests instantly tore through the Amsterdam night sky!

The excited fans in the stands, their eyes red and brimming with tears, grabbed each other's collars and shook each other wildly, their shouts of "Hat trick! Hat trick!" mingling with sobs as they released the pent-up frustration of half a century.

This score is the same score they lost 35 years ago.

this moment,
They weren't celebrating a goal; they were tearing history apart.

They were not celebrating victory, but burying the cold night of 1978.

After scoring, Gaio rushed towards the corner flag, grinning and holding up three fingers with one hand and one finger with the other towards the camera.

This refers to a hat trick.

This is also the first hat-trick in the history of the Europa League final!

This footage was broadcast to the world.

The commentary booths across Europe were in an uproar!
The TF1 commentators were incredibly excited, shouting, "Hat trick! Jan Gaio! History has been shattered under his feet at this moment!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing a new chapter in European football history! The first hat-trick ever scored in a Europa League final! By an 18-year-old French boy, writing the story in the most incredible way under the Amsterdam night sky!"

"3-0! This scoreline has practically killed any suspense!"

"Look at the eyes of the Benfica players! The flame that once burned within them has been completely extinguished, leaving only shock and despair. Gaio's third goal was like a giant hammer, shattering all their hopes of a comeback!"

"For Bastia, and for the entire island of Corsica, this goal signifies a 35-year wait and redemption, finally fulfilled at this moment! If this scoreline holds until the end, they will not only win the championship, but also forever etch their name into the annals of European football history in an absolutely dominant manner!"

"Yan Gaio! Before tonight, he was a genius; after tonight, he is a legend! He single-handedly carried a team to the top of Europe! This hat-trick, like Pelé's smile and Maradona's Hand of God, will become a classic moment that will be replayed for decades to come!"

"The game may still have time, but history has already been written! Let us remember this moment!"

This is Bastia's moment.

Tonight, the goddess of football seems to be smiling down on the people of Bastia.

Haji Begichi couldn't hold back any longer. He shouted to the sky and punched the air, but still couldn't vent his emotions.

When I hugged the teaching assistants, I hugged them so tightly that my fingers turned white.

"Easy, Farooq, I can't breathe!" Haji Begitch only realized what was happening when Dominic was being held so tightly that he quickly let go.

Several people looked at each other and smiled.

This match was full of firsts; it was a first for each and every one of them.

At the players' tunnel, Chatham and other Bastia staff witnessed this scene and shouted enthusiastically.

Although the shadows of the passageway obscured them, they could not hide Gaio's dazzling light.

After a celebration,

Chatham, the once-iron-willed center-back, pressed his hand tightly against his mouth, but his violently trembling shoulders and the tears that slid down his fingers betrayed him.

He gazed at the young figure surrounded by the crowd and murmured in a voice only he could hear, "A true golden phoenix has flown out of Bird Spring Town."

Subsequently,

He took a deep breath, wiped away his tears, and a smile mixed with boundless pride and a touch of sadness appeared on his face.

Some people are like that; they laugh and then cry, or cry and then laugh again.

Also in the stands were Mbappe's family, Zidane, Legera, and scouts and managers from all over the world who were watching the game.

And, Bastia in Corsica.

Calmness and madness, tears and roars, individual pride and collective ecstasy collided and intertwined fiercely in every corner where Bastia fans were present, together composing a symphony called Miracle.

On the field.

Gaio was completely overwhelmed by his teammates.

Even Martinez ran across the field to hug Gaio at that moment.

They were shouting wildly.

The period when they were being dominated by Benfica was really tough for them.

"Thankfully I have you!"

Rothen ruffled Gaio's hair, his excitement barely concealed.

Gaio hugged and high-fived each of his teammates, responding to their praise.

They then turned and walked together toward the center circle.

At this moment, Gaio's shot had completely shattered Benfica's belief and strength, plunging the crimson camp into a deathly silence of collapse.

The players stood in the center circle, waiting for the kickoff.

He stood with his hands on his hips, his eyes vacant.

Head coach Jorge Jesus did not fly into a rage; he stood frozen at the edge of the command area like a statue instantly petrified.

Some fans in the stands began to cry, but not in a loud, shouting way; rather, they sobbed in suppressed despair.

In the VIP boxes, Benfica's senior management looked grim. One of them took off his glasses and wearily pinched his brow, while another slammed his brochure shut with a jarring sound, followed by a long silence.

At that moment, it was as if everyone at Benfica had been silenced.

When faced with such inexplicable events, people tend to believe what they already believe.

They didn't think it was a tactical or personnel issue.

They believed it was a curse.

The name "Gutman" haunts everyone's mind like a ghost—or rather, it is no longer a curse, but an inescapable destiny.

The crimson conviction was extinguished completely under the Amsterdam night sky.

drop!
The whistle sounded.

The game continues.

Benfica's attack seemed to be stuck in a quagmire, with every pass carrying a heavy sense of powerlessness, and the time had already reached the sixty-minute mark.

They were all becoming increasingly anxious.

They want to score.

I want to turn the score around quickly!

However, the more impatient they became, the less they could coordinate their play, and the more mistakes they made.

They barely managed to withstand Bastia's counterattack.

However, they couldn't mount a proper attack.

This created a vicious cycle.

In the 64th minute, Matic received the ball in the middle and looked up to find a passing option, but all he could see was a route covered in blue.

Just as he hesitated, Kanté, who had been watching him closely, suddenly appeared from his side and rear like a ghost.

A precise, fierce yet clean tackle instantly dispossessed Matic.

The moment the ball was poked open, the tension that had been taut throughout the entire match in Matic's mind snapped!
A mixture of humiliation, anger, and utter despair engulfed him.

Instead of trying to track back or block, he lost his balance and, knowing it would be difficult to win the ball, he still almost out of control stretched his leg towards the ball. And his foot just happened to hit Kanté's ankle as he was getting up.

Matic didn't have time to pull his foot back.

Or rather, at that moment, he had no conscious thought of retracting his feet.

"what!"

The moment the foot touched the ground, Matic snapped out of his daze, while Kanté collapsed to the ground in pain, clutching his ankle.

This really hurts.

Kanter wouldn't fall to the ground if he were fouled normally.

drop!
Referee Keppers blew his whistle!

Without hesitation, he rushed to the scene, his right hand already raised high as a yellow card.

Immediately following was a ruthless red card!
Two yellows turn into one red!
The Bastia players immediately rushed towards Matic. Rothen, with his fiery temper, angrily shoved Matic, who was still standing there, pointed at the fallen Kanté, and roared, "Look what you've done! Are you trying to ruin this kid?!"

Gaio arrived quickly. He did not participate in the conflict, but immediately checked Kanté's injury and anxiously gestured to the team doctor on the sidelines.

Kant grinned and said he was fine, then tried to get up.

Gaio held him down, "Wait a minute, don't move, let the team doctor come and take a look, don't rush."

Kanté still believed Gaio's words.

Waiting for the team doctor.

The conflict was quickly brought under control by the referee.

Matic didn't argue; he wasn't in the mood to clash with Bastia's players, and he didn't even glance at Kanté, who was lying on the ground.

He stood there expressionlessly, looking up at the sky. Then he wiped his sweat, turned around, and strode straight toward the players' tunnel without looking back, disappearing into the dimly lit entrance.

This action, regardless of tactics or victory or defeat, was nothing but utter collapse, tolling the final, desperate death knell for Benfica on this disastrous night.

Playing with one less player, they are down 0-3.

The last glimmer of suspense in the match seemed to have been completely extinguished by this red card.

The moment Kanté collapsed in agony, the entire Bastia stand erupted in a deafening tirade of roars and boos. Tens of thousands of people sprang to their feet, pointing angrily at the scene and spewing the most vehement curses.

As Matic walked toward the sidelines, he was greeted by a wave of waving goodbye from the Bastia fans.

And a lot of sarcastic remarks.

"If you can't handle losing, you shouldn't play football!"

"Go back to Lisbon!"

"Get lost! Your actions are clearly aimed at a cripple!"

"Go back and see how we trample you to win the championship!"

After a brief moment of mockery, a deeper, more triumphant feeling quickly spread.

The fans hugged and high-fived each other, their faces beaming with the triumphant smiles of victory. They couldn't believe that with an extra man and a 3-0 lead, they could be reversed.

now,

The TF1 commentator's voice grew louder and louder, "Red card! An indisputable red card! Nemanja Matic has been sent off! This is adding insult to injury for Benfica, a complete disaster!"

"This red card completely killed the game! It not only meant that Benfica would be playing with one less player for the remaining twenty minutes, but more importantly, it shattered the team's last bit of spirit and dignity."

"Matic, as the team's midfield core and spiritual leader, bid farewell to the final in such an irrational way. It was like a premature surrender of spirit, a complete collapse under immense pressure. He not only let down his teammates, but also the die-hard fans in the stands who are still singing to this day."

"This move marked the most bitter and ugly end to Benfica's nightmarish night. Trailing 0-3 and playing with one less player, facing a Bastia team with such a tenacious defense and such sharp counter-attacks, the possibility of a comeback was zero."

"Now, for Benfica, the meaning of the game is no longer about winning the championship, but about how to avoid an even more crushing defeat and how to salvage their last bit of pride. It is a regrettable moment. A final that should have been exciting has ended prematurely in such a disappointing way."

"But for Bastia, the road to the champion's podium has become an unobstructed path, and they can even think about breaking the final score record."

The largest margin of victory in the current Europa League final was in the 1992/93 season, when Juventus defeated Borussia Dortmund 6-1. However, note that this score was before the Europa League was restructured, meaning it was a two-legged tie.

Since the format was changed to a single-leg final, the largest margin of victory is now recorded in the 2005/06 season, when Sevilla thrashed Middlesbrough 4-0 at PSV Eindhoven, Netherlands.

"Now, Bastia is just one goal away from equaling the record!"

now,

Amsterdam Arena: Silent despair and boisterous revelry.

Collisions and tears occur on this pitch, creating the most brutal yet moving spectacle in the world of football.

On one side is the cold, lifeless desolation after the collapse of faith, and on the other side is the fiery eruption before dreams come true.

The ultimate emotion of football was perfectly expressed at this moment.

Zidane and Deschamps felt the frenzy of Bastia, and also the deathly silence of Benfica.

Zidane smiled, his eyes narrowed. "It's over, Didier. The championship belongs to Bastia."

He turned his head, his eyes gleaming with amazement. "To be honest, if someone had told me a year ago that a young kid from Niaoquan Town, who had just been released from a juvenile prison, could lead a French second-division team to sweep across the country and reach the top of Europe, I would have thought he was crazy."

He leaned forward and looked at Gaio. "But look at him, five trophies! The French Cup, Ligue 2, the French Super Cup, Ligue 1, and now this Europa League. He has almost single-handedly redefined the word 'miracle.' His dominance in carrying the whole team makes me jealous."

Deschamps, standing to the side, appeared more composed, but his eyes were equally filled with shock and deep emotion. "This is not just a miracle, Zinedine, this is a true 'champion's look'. Gaio is simply a champion-collecting machine. Now I just hope he can bring this magic to the national team. We also need a championship."

Zidane smiled.

However, Deschamps' brow furrowed slightly, revealing a hint of worry: "My only hope right now is that Ngolo is alright. That stomping move was too nasty. This kid is equally important to the future of the French team, so we absolutely cannot afford any mishaps."

Zidane's expression also turned serious. "There shouldn't be any major problems. This kind of injury shouldn't be too serious."

really,

After the on-field doctor finished the examination, he helped Kanté up and found that there was nothing wrong.

Bastia's teammates all breathed a sigh of relief. Now that Kanté was alright, their mindset had completely changed.

There's a feeling that "the advantage is in my hands".

The players didn't exchange many words; instead, they communicated with knowing glances and brief gestures.

They exuded an almost arrogant confidence—victory was already in their grasp, and their task now was to deliver the spoils of victory safely to the finish line in the most stable and professional manner.

Kante is fine.

But Jesus is a bigger problem. The Portuguese coach was standing on the sidelines, and if it weren't for his eyes still following the field, it would almost seem like he wasn't breathing.

This was a crushing defeat.

By this point, even Jesus could not see any hope of a comeback.

drop!
The whistle blew, and Bastia kicked off.

Jesus shook his head and sat back down on the coach's bench; he felt a little tired.

So tired, so tired.
(End of this chapter)