The road to godhood starting from Ligue 1

Chapter 354 In the Name of Genius

Clairefontaine U21 team training base.

The players, having just finished an intense training session, were chatting in small groups, their noise filling the air.

"Hey, did you hear? Jan Gaio's coming over to give us a speech later?!"

The noise subsided considerably in an instant.

Anthony Martial was bending over to tie his shoelaces when he heard this. He slowed down, looked up, and a barely perceptible glint flashed in his eyes, but he quickly looked down again, pretending to focus on the shoelaces, though his ears perked up slightly.

"Really? The captain is coming here?"

Zuma's reaction was much more direct, his dark face full of anticipation.

On the other side, his center-back partner Umtiti was relatively calm. While drying his wet hair with a towel, he whispered to Lucas Digne beside him, "Yang's experience is indeed extraordinary. It won't hurt to hear what he has to say."

Digne nodded, straightening the collar of his training uniform, his eyes filled with curiosity and respect: "His career trajectory is quite legendary."

The most complex emotions belong to Griezmann.

Upon hearing Gaio's name, he paused for a moment, his hand holding the water bottle still. He didn't join the discussion, but simply exhaled softly, a complex smile playing on his lips.

That night, if it weren't for Gaio...
The incident was exposed by the media, the players involved were severely punished, head coach Montbaye almost lost his job, while he himself narrowly escaped punishment.

He always kept this kindness in his heart.

But this gratitude is also mixed with a sense of distance that is hard to put into words.

Gaião has risen like a rocket, from the Bastia miracle to the record-breaking transfer to Liverpool, and is now the captain and absolute core of the national team.

As for himself, although he played well for Real Sociedad in La Liga, it was a team with slightly less attention, and his influence was incomparable to that of Gaião, who was under the spotlight of the Premier League.

They rarely had the chance to meet, and apart from their initial acquaintance in the youth team, they had almost no personal relationship.

Sometimes he felt that he and Gaio were like two lines that had briefly intersected before rapidly extending in different directions.

however,
Deep down, he desperately wanted to close that distance.

He hopes that he and Gaio can not only be teammates on the national team, but also become "good brothers" like Gaio and Giroud and Varane, who can speak freely with each other.

He longs for Gaio's recognition and to fight alongside him, whether in the national team or perhaps someday in the future, at the club level.

Montbaye also overheard the players' discussion.

He did not stop it.

Instead, he glanced at the time and then called out, "Guys, hurry up! You have five minutes to assemble in Conference Room One. Today, we have a special guest who wants to talk to you about something."

As soon as Montbaye finished speaking...

The players exchanged glances, and their movements noticeably quickened.

The players entered the somewhat old-fashioned conference room one after another, the atmosphere carrying a hint of formality and restraint.

However, the scene before them instantly put them at ease.

Gaio was slightly bent over, frowning as he fiddled with the old-fashioned microphone on the podium.

He tried blowing into the microphone twice and then gently patting it, but only a piercing buzzing sound came from the speaker.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up and saw the young team members filing in, and a slightly helpless smile immediately appeared on his face.

"It seems the equipment in the youth team is a bit outdated compared to the first team." He shrugged, his tone as relaxed as if he were chatting with his teammates on the training field.

This little accident and Gaio's easygoing attitude instantly broke the last bit of awkwardness in the meeting room.

Zuma was the first to burst out laughing, pointing at the microphone and shouting, "Yang, this thing is older than my sneakers! It's definitely malfunctioning again!"

His loud voice made the other team members laugh.

Gaio tried twisting the connection cable again, and the microphone suddenly made a clear "pop" sound before returning to normal.

He tested the microphone: "Hello? Is it working now?"

"Alright!" the young team members below the stage answered in unison, with smiles on their faces.

Gaio straightened up, placed his hands on the edge of the podium, and looked over the young and energetic faces.

Many familiar faces.

These are the future pillars of French football.

Gaio wasted no time.

“Alright,” Gaio smiled, his eyes becoming serious and gentle, “then let’s begin.”

clap clap clap!
The players below immediately clapped and cheered.

Gaio smiled and said, "Actually, I rarely participate in such occasions, and I don't really like contacting the media."

But since I'm here, I still want to say a few things.

Let's start with Clairefontaine.

Every time I return to Clairefontaine, I feel a special sense of familiarity, just like you do.

This is where I trained when I was young, and in the past two years, I have come here several times almost every season with the national team training camps.

Today, thanks to the opportunity given to me by Coach Montbael, I'm standing here not only to look back on my past, but also to have a good talk with you all about the word 'genius'.

Once we got down to business, Gaio became a little more serious.

The players below also focused their attention and listened attentively to what Gaio had to say.

Although many of the players here are smaller than Gaio.

But Gaio is the captain of the national team!
This thing doesn't discriminate based on age!
If they have the opportunity to enter the national team, they will all be Gaio's successors.

"More than two years ago, I wouldn't have been qualified to stand here."

At that time, I was in Fleurier Marroggis Prison, listening to someone in the next cell humming an unknown song intermittently.

That day was my 17th birthday. I had no cake or birthday wishes in my pocket, only the perfume I had just stolen.

Looking back now, that absurd day has become the clearest mirror of my life.

It helped me see myself clearly.

Talent without reverence will only become a stone thrown at you.

You've probably all heard my story: I was scouted by Chelsea when I was 14 and left France for London.

Back then, both the Clairefontaine coach and the Chelsea coach always said that I was the most talented player among my peers, and that they had never seen anyone who could make feints as natural as breathing.

So naturally, I felt a little smug.

I used to think that geniuses should do whatever they want.

I believe the charm of football lies in one person tearing apart the defense, and I dare to say before the game, "I will get past the opposing defender three times in this match."

During training, the coach reminded me to get back on defense and cover, but I felt he was being nosy.

If my teammate doesn't pass me the ball, I can just throw my jersey down and walk away.

Chelsea's assistant coach repeatedly pulled me aside and said, "Young, you can dribble past three defenders, but you can't win a game by yourself. Football is a team sport."

How could I listen to anything back then?
I just feel that they don't understand genius.

He was determined to carry all the glory on his own shoulders.

But it was this stubbornness that dragged me into the mud.

To prove that I could solve problems on my own, I deliberately practiced dribbling on one side more often in training. Even when there was an open space on the left wing, I would not pass the ball but would insist on forcing my way to the right wing. In the game, no matter how many people were on the field, I would not stop pushing forward.

Over time, the strain on the adductor muscles became more and more severe, until one time during training, when turning and changing direction, a sudden sharp pain came from the thigh.

The doctor said it was a muscle tear and would take at least three months to heal.

During those days lying in the hospital bed, I couldn't even do the simplest passing move.

Looking at my teammates training outside the window, I panicked for the first time.

I always thought that talent was an inexhaustible asset, but what use are the most fancy feints when the body can't even coordinate with teammates?

That's when I understood what the coach meant when he said football isn't a one-man sport.

Only now do I truly understand the weight of those words.

When Gaio got to this point...

The players below all looked thoughtful.

Especially Martial.

He found that he seemed to have some similarities with Gaio in the past.

And now,
When Gaio said that, he suddenly realized something.

After a pause, Gaio continued, "Last year, when we won the treble in Bastia, I truly put this into practice on the field."

We were able to win all the way that season, not just because I scored a lot of goals.

Kanté runs 13 kilometers per game.

It was the relentless running and defense from teammates like Rothen, Van Dijk, Anguilla, and Joplin.

True victory isn't about one person shining, but about everyone being willing to build a ladder for each other.

Just like now, as the captain of the national team, what I am most proud of is seeing my teammates willing to run for each other on the field.

I often think of what Rafael Varane told me about when he first joined Real Madrid. He was very young then and spent most of his time on the bench, but he would arrive at the training ground two hours early every day to practice defensive positioning. Even the goalkeeping coach praised him for knowing how to cherish opportunities.

All I can say is that talent is like a bonfire that God has built in front of you.

When it is lit, the flames soar into the sky, warm and bright, drawing the attention of everyone.

But how long this pile of firewood will burn, and how far the flames will shine, depends entirely on whether you will gather new firewood later, whether you will carefully protect it, and even whether you can endure the loneliness of rekindling embers in the ashes.

remember,

Talent is the starting point, not the end point.

What's even more cruel is.

Talent expires.

It's like fresh milk, with a shelf life; like a battery, it will run out.

Moreover, it expires much faster than most people imagine; while you are still marveling at the initial spark of light, it may have already quietly dimmed.

Two years ago,
I had a very vivid dream while I was in prison.

In my dream, I had absolutely no talent for football. The ball always seemed to slip away from my feet as if it were oiled, but I still chased after it desperately, even though every shot went wide of the post.

Until one day during a pickup game, I was trying to get a ball off the baseline when my ligament snapped.

The doctor said I can't play football anymore. I can only sit on the wire mesh by the field and watch others run on the field. Even though we're so close, it feels like a lifetime is between us.

When I woke up from that dream that day, I stared blankly at the prison ceiling.

What I squandered before wasn't talent at all.
It's the opportunity to run on the field, and it's the purest love for football!
You are all standing here now. Some of you have just won the championship in the youth competition, and some of you have already attracted the attention of the top teams. You all possess talents that others envy.

But please remember, genius is never a privilege, it is a responsibility.

Especially since some of you might join the national team in the future and wear this blue jersey, you'll understand then that talent should be used to carry the team, not to admire yourself in solitude.

We lost in the semi-finals of last year's European Championship.

That night, Zinedine patted me on the shoulder and said, "The future of French football doesn't lie in the feet of any one person, but in the locker room of you young people, in your willingness to stand up for each other."

Now I'd like to pass this message on to you.

As the captain of the national team, I look forward to seeing you in the senior team's locker room one day, seeing you with this reverence for football, with the desire to win together with your teammates, fighting for the championship for France.

When someone calls you a genius, don't get arrogant like I did back then.

Look down at your sneakers and think back to the afternoon when you first ran to the field with a soccer ball in your arms—it might have been on a gravel street or on the school playground.

Back then, all we cared about was football; that purity is what we should cherish most.

In the world of football, applause may cease, and setbacks may occur. Talent in favorable circumstances can easily lead to complacency, while perseverance during low points is the true test of skill.

But as long as you remember that talent is for winning with your teammates and for bringing honor to French football, you will definitely go far.

Alright, that's all I have to say. Now it's time for the grass and the football to speak for themselves.

after all,

Someone has to bring the championship back to France, why can't it be you?

As the words fell.

Immediately afterwards, applause surged from all directions like a tidal wave, quickly becoming a continuous, enthusiastic, and sustained sound.

This applause wasn't to flatter the captain, but rather a heartfelt expression of resonance and excitement.

The applause lasted for almost a minute before gradually subsiding.

The young players didn't immediately start making noise or rushing to leave as they usually do; many remained seated, lost in thought.

Looking at the youthful and passionate gazes below the stage, Gaio gave a gentle, slightly weary smile.

He gently put down the microphone, said nothing more, simply nodded to everyone, and then turned and walked towards the door.

Griezmann watched Gaio's departing figure.

Several times he wanted to stand up and call out to Gaio, but he controlled the urge completely.

How can he get close to Gaio now?
What identity should we use?

Griezmann shook his head.

With a determined look in his eyes, he was determined to work hard to reach Gaio and become his teammate!

At the entrance, Montbael and Gaio exchanged a few words.

Gaio returned to the national team.

Montparnasse, on the other hand, handled the dispersal process.

As Gaio walked toward the first team's training ground, he couldn't help but think about the players who had just been there.

Especially Griezmann and Martial.

These are all people with top-notch talent.

Hopefully, I can make it into the national team soon. Actually, the French national team is really short of players right now.

2014 World Cup.

It was a time when the French national team was facing a talent gap.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have risen to the position of captain so quickly.

But that's exactly how it is.

This only highlights the extraordinary talent he possesses!
The World Cup qualifiers will begin on September 6th.

The French team will depart for Georgia on the 5th, which means they will have nearly five full days of training time.

Deschamps didn't waste a single moment either.

On the Clairefontaine training ground, the afternoon sun shines on the neatly trimmed turf.

Because the national team training camp doesn't have much time for detailed training, it mostly involves quick tactical drills through group scrimmages.

The training session on the field is entering its most intense phase.

The first team, wearing blue vests, had just completed a defensive play when Kanté made a clean tackle near the midfield line, passing the ball to Matuidi who was there to receive it.

Matuidi quickly passed the ball to the retreating Ribery.

After receiving the ball, Scarface turned instantly and used his signature explosive power to advance at high speed down the left flank. After drawing the opponent's defensive focus, he suddenly delivered a subtle diagonal pass with the outside of his right foot, and the ball accurately found Valbuena, who was roaming in the open space.

"nice shot!"

Deschamps called out from the sidelines.

This is the epitome of Deschamps' tactics: quickly transitioning from defense to attack, utilizing players' individual abilities and instantaneous insight to strike at the opponent's weak points in the simplest way.

Valbuena skillfully controlled the ball at the corner of the penalty area, and instead of trying to score against the covering defender, he passed the ball across to the penalty spot.

Giroud had already arrived, using his strong physique to hold off the center-back and create space for his teammates.

Meanwhile, Gaio, who was originally moving on the other side, had already begun to tuck in and move forward the moment Ribery started.

When Valbuena received the ball, Gaio had already moved to the far post!

Giroud feigned a shot in the middle but cleverly let the ball pass him!
Gaio arrived just in time and easily slotted the ball into the net unmarked.

Gaio pointed to Valbuena, who had passed the ball, and Giroud, and everyone laughed.

It's fun.

The entire attack, from Kante's interception to Gaio's goal, involved only three passes: Matuidi, Ribery, and Valbuena, taking less than eight seconds.

"Beautiful! This is the rhythm!" Deschamps, who had been watching the game with his arms crossed, shouted, a satisfied look on his face. "Defense needs to be tough, and counter-attacks need to be fast!"

This training lasted for an entire session.

During a training break, the team members gathered together to drink water.

The players then talked about Gaio's goal.

"Yang, your timing for that run was absolutely brilliant," Ribery said to Gaio while wiping his sweat, his tone full of admiration.

Gaio smiled and unscrewed the water bottle: "You were the one who broke through the defenses first, Frank. Your teamwork with Mathieu was the key."

"Where's my pass?" Giroud chuckled, joining in. "I was the perfect wall for you guys!"

soon.

After the break, Deschamps continued, "Stay focused, remember our principles: once you win the ball, you must quickly move through midfield. Our attacking players must be bold enough to push forward and utilize space. Our advantage lies in the individual abilities and teamwork of our attacking players." Training resumed.

In the following drills, Deschamps continued to emphasize the compactness of the defense and off-the-ball movement during counter-attacks.

By the end of training, the setting sun had painted the sky orange-red.

Time flies.

9 month 5 number.

The entire French national team departed for Georgia in the Caucasus region to prepare for their away match in the World Cup qualifiers.

Georgia.

This country, located on the eastern coast of the Black Sea and a gateway connecting Eurasia, is renowned for its long history, the majestic Caucasus Mountains, and its world-famous wine culture.

The capital city of Tbilisi, an ancient city built on the banks of the Kura River, will serve as the stage for this match.

Georgian football has a distinct regional character.

They are not a traditional powerhouse in European football and have limited experience in international competitions, but their football style is known for its toughness, resilience, and physicality.

Georgian players are generally physically excellent and have a tenacious style of play. They often unleash amazing fighting power amidst the thunderous cheers of their home crowd.

For the French team, who are determined to win, playing away from home presents challenges not only from their opponents but also from the environment.

The rugged mountainous climate, the passionate local fans, and the opponent's unwavering defensive formation and aggressive pressing will all test their patience and ability to overcome challenges.

Before the trip, Deschamps repeatedly emphasized that the technical style of play might be limited here, and the team needed to be prepared for a tough battle.

But as he said, every journey in the World Cup is not about taking it easy.

The French national team's chartered plane landed at Tbilisi International Airport.

The players checked in with the assistance of staff.

Deschamps, on the other hand, brought veteran Evra to the press conference.

Other issues were handled in a mediocre manner.

Similarly, the issue of Gaio is also unavoidable.

A reporter asked, "Didier, Young's start to the Premier League season has been nothing short of dream-like, with five goals in two games that have shocked Europe. How would you rate his form? Does this mean he will play a more pivotal role in tomorrow's match?"

Deschamps leaned forward slightly, his tone firm, "I would describe Yang's condition in one word: absolutely unique."

More importantly, he demonstrated the ability to decide a game, which is the most fundamental difference between a top player and an excellent player.

He proved it at Anfield, and we need him to prove it again tomorrow at the Boris Paciarze Dynamo Stadium.

Or to put it more clearly, Yang is not only an important member of our team, he is our offensive core and captain.

In such a crucial qualifying round, we need our best players to step up and decide the game.

And Yang, he is currently the most sought-after attacker in European football.

When pressed by the reporter, "Does this mean that tactics will revolve around him?"

Deschamps nodded without hesitation: "Of course. A smart coach will put his best players in the positions where they can have the greatest impact."

We will create space for Yang, and we will design tactics around his strengths; all of this is ultimately to maximize Yang's offensive threat.

Georgia's head coach, Kotsbya, said, "We must forget our 0-3 defeat in France last round. This is a completely new competition. We may not have a chance to qualify, but we need to give our all in every game."

Kotsbya's words.

For the Georgian media, this naturally had little effect.

Media reports mostly described the situation as "losing by a small margin is considered a victory" and "striving for a draw to minimize losses."

Amidst all this turmoil...

At the training ground of Georgian powerhouse Dinamo Tbilisi, the afterglow of the setting sun shines on the slightly worn training field.

After training.

A group of twelve- or thirteen-year-old boys did not go home immediately, but instead excitedly gathered together.

Surrounded in the very center was a small boy with bright, lively eyes—Hevicha Kvalatskhya.

His hands were clenched tightly; the coach's words had stirred his emotions.

A freckled boy asked enviously, "Hevica, are you really going to be a caddie tomorrow? Right there on the sidelines?"

Kvalatschria nodded vigorously, his face beaming with barely suppressed excitement: "Yes! The coach said I've been chosen as a ball boy for the French team!"

"My God! You can see Jan Gaio! Alive!"

Another tall boy exclaimed, causing a stir among his friends.

For these young Georgian footballers, the French prodigy who had just caused a sensation in the Premier League was simply someone from another planet.

Kvalatskhya didn't speak, but his eyes shone with an astonishing light.

In his backpack was a crumpled newspaper clipping of Gaio celebrating his goal for Bastia. He had carefully cut it out of an outdated sports newspaper and kept it all this time.

He regarded Gaio as a role model.

“I wish I could get closer to see him dribbling,” Kvalatschria’s voice was soft but carried an unusual firmness. “The newspapers say his pace and changes of direction are like magic.”

A slightly older child next to him patted him on the shoulder and said in a tone of elders, "Vicia, don't forget to get us an autograph too! But I heard they're pretty fierce, especially after they lose a game."

Kvalatskhya shook his head and said seriously, "No, he won't. I've seen his interviews, and he said he respects every opponent."

As night fell, the friends dispersed and went home.

Kvalatskhria was the last to leave the training base.

He glanced back at the silhouette of the Dinamo Boris Paciarze Stadium, silent in the twilight not far away.

Tomorrow, the place will be packed, with deafening shouts.

He clenched his fist tightly, not only because of the excitement of seeing his idol up close, but also because a vague yet strong thought was growing in his heart.

"One day, I will stand on that kind of field, not as a caddie, but as a player who makes the whole stadium cheer."

"Just like Gaio."

The aspirations expressed by this 12-year-old boy stand in subtle contrast to the pessimistic atmosphere of "losing by a small margin is considered a victory" in Tbilisi.

Beyond the realities of adult life, a seed for the future of football is quietly sprouting.

the next day.

The match day is approaching.

The area around the Boris Paciarze Dinamo Stadium gradually became enveloped in a festive atmosphere.

Georgian flags fluttered around the stadium.

The air outside the stadium was filled with the passion and anticipation of the fans.

Some fans held up bull horn cups and sang the desolate yet powerful polyphonic folk song "Sulike"; while young people wore national team jerseys, their faces painted with face paint, and vigorously pounded the drumbeats.

There was much discussion among the crowd.

"This scene is just like a festival!"

"Yes, we know it's going to be tough to win, but it's worth it to have a real match against a world-class team like France on our home turf! Just seeing how our players can compete with those superstars is enough!"

"I heard that the French team's number 10, Gaio, is incredibly skilled!"

"He's more than amazing! Have you seen his Liverpool game footage? That kid is only 18 years old, he's a monster! His acceleration, the change of pace when he dribbles past opponents, our defense is going to suffer tonight."

"What's there to be afraid of! No matter how talented a player is, once they come to our turf, they'll have to experience the toughness of the Caucasus! Tell the Kotskaya lads to play bravely, even if they lose, they should lose with their heads held high!"

This complex emotion permeated the entire stadium.

As the Georgian bus, escorted by police cars, slowly approached the stadium's access road, the crowd erupted in a deafening roar of cheers.

soon.

French buses also arrived.

Boos erupted.

However, countless phones were also raised, with cameras pointed at the car windows, in an attempt to capture the legendary figure of number 10.

Time slipped away quietly amidst the fans' anticipation.

As the warm-up ended.

The players stood at the entrance to the players' tunnel again, ready to enter the field.

Boris Paciarze Dinamo Stadium is experiencing its first major climax of the night!
Crimson and white flags and scarves waved wildly in the stands, creating a swirling, breathtaking sea of ​​color.

When the stadium announcer began calling out the names of the home team players, each name was met with deafening cheers, whistles, and roars.

In the players tunnel.

The Georgian players heard it too.

Their hearts were churning with a burning desire to bring victory to their compatriots on home soil!
now,

The Georgian broadcast commentary was also passionate and energetic.

"Tonight, our Caucasian Lions will face off against a world-class team – the French team led by Deschamps!"

The camera pans across the enthusiastic home team fans.

"Listen to the singing! Listen to the shouts! This is our Tbilisi, our fortress! Although everyone says it's a mismatch, look at the fire in our fans' eyes! This isn't a look of defeat, it's a look of readiness for battle."

The camera then focused on close-ups of the Georgian players.

The commentator kept getting excited.

Immediately afterwards, the camera suddenly focused on Gaio of the French team.

The Georgian commentator said, "And they are facing the hottest young star in European football today - Jan Gaio! This 18-year-old Frenchman has scored five goals in two games in the Premier League. His speed, his technique, and his innate killer instinct are the biggest threat to our defense tonight!"

We must admit, he is a genius, a true genius.

Every touch of his ball could bring danger, but that's precisely why tonight's game is so significant, going far beyond the points themselves!
This is the litmus test of our mettle! Our defense will face the direct challenge of world-class attackers.

In the players tunnel.

Twelve-year-old Kvalatskhria, wearing a slightly oversized caddie vest, stood nervously in his designated spot on the side of the team.

Next to him was none other than Gaio, the captain of the French national team!
His eyes were fixed intently, almost reverently, on the tall figure beside him wearing the number 10 jersey.

Gaio seemed to sense the focused gaze. He turned his head slightly and saw the small, thin Georgian boy standing right next to him.

Gaio felt that the face looked somewhat familiar.

But I didn't think about it deeply.

He gave a gentle smile and said in a low voice in English, "Ready? Kid, stick close to me."

These words were like an electric current, instantly piercing through the tension in Kvalatskhya.

He was startled for a moment, then nodded vigorously, almost subconsciously, his little hands unconsciously clenching the hem of his clothes.

The idol not only saw him, but also spoke to him!
In that instant, a subtle yet profound change occurred within Kvalatskhya.

The initial pure, star-gazing sense of worship began to subtly transform.

Gaio's simple words and smile did not make him feel distant; instead, they gave him a strange sense of resonance and courage.

“He is not an unattainable god. He is only six years older than me. He also came from being a child like me.”

The idea took root in my heart like a seed.

"Let's go." The referee waved, signaling the players to enter the field.

Gaio immediately stopped smiling, his eyes sharpened, and he stepped onto the court with firm steps, instantly being engulfed by a huge roar and flashing lights.

Kvalatskhya took a deep breath, no longer just passively looking up, but straightening his small body, holding Gaio's hand, and following closely behind, striding into the battlefield of his dreams.

now,

In addition to admiration, an unprecedented flame ignited in his heart.

"One day, I want to be like him, standing here as a player, receiving everyone's cheers."

As the pre-match ceremony proceeded smoothly.

Gaio, of course, wouldn't notice how a caddie's heart might change because of him.

As the photo session ended.

The caddies come off the field.

Kvalatskhria looked back at the enormous stadium almost every three steps.

My resolve has only grown stronger!

He wants to become a football icon for the national team, just like Gaio!
the other side.

As captain, Gaio chose to pick a coin, but he guessed wrong, and the opposing team chose to kick off.

Gaio chose the side where he was warming up as his attacking direction.

soon.

The players stood in the center circle; the match was about to begin.

drop! ! !
As time was up, the referee blew his whistle, which resounded throughout the stadium!

The game officially begins!
Kobakhidze gently passed the ball back to captain Kankava inside the center circle, and the entire formation, as if it had been practiced countless times, quickly and neatly contracted backward.

The two full-backs immediately dropped back to form a tight four-man spacing with the two center-backs, and the midfield line also retreated to the 30-meter area in front of the penalty area, forming a clear defensive barrier.

The French team was clearly prepared for this.

Giroud and Ribery, as the first line of defense, quickly pressed towards the opposing player with the ball.

Behind them, Gaio, Valbuena, Guilavogi, and Musa Sissoko formed a second encirclement, pushing forward with an extremely aggressive formation and firmly pinning the Georgian team in their own half.

Under France's high pressing, Georgia's defenders could only make cautious lateral passes, occasionally trying to launch long balls to Kobakhidze, the only player up front, but possession quickly returned to France under the control of Koscielny and Abidal.

This situation lasted for about three minutes. The French team had an absolute advantage in possession, but faced with the opponent's dense defense, they found it difficult to find a way to penetrate.

The turning point occurs at 3 minutes and 17 seconds.

Georgian left-back Hubtuya's attempt to pass the ball to the defensive midfielder was slightly too weak.

Moussa Sissoko quickly pressed forward, using his body to block the ball and steal it!
After receiving the ball, Sissoko did not choose to advance himself, but immediately passed the ball to Valbuena on the right side to receive it.

After receiving the ball, Valbuena made a slight adjustment, looked up to observe, and then delivered a precise long pass over the top!

The football, with a beautiful arc, swept past Georgia's hastily retreating defense and precisely found the gap on the left side of the penalty area!

There, Giroud had already understood the situation perfectly, using his strong physique to hold off the center-back marking him closely and head towards the ball's landing point!
Meanwhile, O, who was originally on the right wing, also made a decisive cut inside and sped towards the center of the penalty area!
Giroud did not attempt a strong header on this ball.

Just like he did repeatedly in training, he served as a pivot center.

Unload the ball immediately and pass it back.

Gaio rushed forward without hesitation and unleashed a powerful shot!
Bang!
Gaio's shot was like a cannonball, whistling through the air, heading straight for the top right corner of the goal!
Georgian goalkeeper Loria reacted almost as soon as the ball passed him; he merely waved his hand instinctively, his body completely frozen in place!

Wow!

The entire Boris Paciarze Stadium erupted in a collective gasp, followed by a tremendous wave of relief, as if they had escaped death!

The football grazed the top edge of the crossbar and flew towards the stands behind it.

"what!!"

Georgian fans clutched their chests, looking at each other in shock, many with expressions of disbelief on their faces.

Just a moment ago, they almost heard the sound of the net being pierced.

The away team section was also filled with gasps of surprise.

Courtside.

The French team's bench was filled with sighs of regret as players held their heads in their hands.

Deschamps was completely focused on the ball, about to celebrate, when he saw the ball fly away and shook his head in frustration.

Then they applauded enthusiastically at the stadium.

At least the tactics were implemented.

This attack, from the interception to Giroud's pass and then Gaio's run and shot, was a perfect, fluid combination, only lacking a goal.

When Gaio saw the ball go high, he put his hands on his head, his face full of regret. But just a second later, he quickly put his hands down and gave Giroud a big thumbs up.

He knew perfectly well how comfortable and selfless Giroud's pass was.

This is Giroud's value to the French team.

Instead of a certain white-clad center.

Giroud shrugged at Gaio, pinching his index finger and thumb together, a wry smile on his face as if to say, "Just a little bit short!"

Gaio shrugged.

soon.

Georgia takes the goal kick, and the game continues.

But Gaio's powerful shot gave Georgia's left-back, Grigalava, a real scare.

This is the person he's keeping an eye on.

But he also felt bitter inside. The step Gaio took just now was a pre-emptive instruction to Gaio on how to position himself, but he still couldn't react in time.

This is the difference!
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P.S.: The book title has been changed; it will now be the chapter title, "In the Name of Genius." The editor probably did it during the day, so please don't get lost!
(End of this chapter)