When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 46 A Shocking Reverse Hook! (Bonus Chapter)

27 minutes.

Marseille launched their only counter-attack in the first half.

Evra passes the ball out from the left wing.

Monaco's attack surged forward like a tidal wave. Evra received a pass from Rothen near the sideline and attempted to use his speed to outpace Marseille midfielder Johansen.

But Johnson had anticipated this, and with a precise sidestep, he pushed Evra back half a step, then stuck out his foot and poked him!
The ball has been intercepted!

Without pausing, Johansson turned and dribbled forward, and Marseille's counter-attack was launched instantly!

Bakayoko started his run, and the Ivorian striker sprinted like a cheetah, leaving Monaco center-back Rodriguez half a body length behind.

Johansson delivered a through ball, a low, ground-based pass that pierced Monaco's midfield and found Bakayoko perfectly!

"Johansson intercepts the ball! Through ball! Bakayoko dribbles forward, Marseille has a counter-attack opportunity!"

Monaco's defense frantically chased back, but Marseille had already formed a 2v3 situation. Bakayoko had the ball in the middle, Chapuis made a run down the right flank, and Monaco only had Squillaci, Marquez, and Elfakiri left to track back.

But Chapuis' hesitation in choosing his running position cost him the opportunity.

Chapuis could have cut behind Squillaci and created a one-on-one opportunity, but he suddenly slowed down and glanced back at Johansson's position.

That moment of hesitation allowed Max to catch up and block the passing lane.

The commentator exclaimed in disappointment, "What is Chapuis waiting for?! The opportunity is fleeting!"

With his passing lane blocked, Bakayoko had no choice but to handle the situation himself.

He forced a shot from 25 meters out, unleashing a powerful right-footed strike.

"Shh!"

The football soared high into the stands, and the Monaco away fans erupted in a chorus of boos.

This is a microcosm of Marseille tonight: a solid defense, but a lack of decisiveness in attack!
This counterattack boosted the morale of Marseille fans.

After a giant "1993" flag was displayed in the south stand of Marseille, the Monaco expedition team instantly went into a frenzy.

Three thousand people sang a rearranged version of "La Marseillaise" in unison:
“Vous avez volé la gloire,

Avec l'argent de Tapie !
Marseille, Marseille

Vos trophées sont pourris!”

(You stole the glory,)

They're using Tapi's dirty money!

Marseille, Marseille!
Your trophies have long since rotted away!

The die-hard, extreme fans in the stands began to stomp their feet rhythmically, creating a thunderous thud from the footsteps of 50,000 people. They pounded their team badges on their chests three times per second, the sound of flesh striking flesh chiseling out a clear rhythm within the sonic waves.
"LA LANTERNE! LA LANTERNE!" (Hang them! Hang them!)

They played the Carmen Overture using a modified subwoofer, with the operatic female voices being switched to samples of a baby crying at the climax.

Rothen receives the ball on the left wing, observes – and passes it across to Giuly! Monaco's wingers switch positions, and Marseille's defense begins to falter!

Giuly received the ball on the right wing and, facing Dos Santos's pressing, suddenly made a croquet-like change of direction, creating an opening!

Marseille's defense tightened up, with Hemdani, Celestini, and Laurentti surrounding him in an attempt to block his shooting route.

He raised his foot as if to shoot from a distance, but at the moment of contact with the ball, he flicked his ankle and passed it diagonally to the onrushing Elfakiri!
A feint, a real pass!

"A brilliant deception! Giuly drew the attention of three players, but then passed the ball to the unmarked Elfaqiri!"

Elfaqiri dribbles down the wing, leaving Marseille's left flank completely undefended!

A low cross, the ball traveling at incredible speed, heading straight for the six-yard box!
Pulso made a ghostly forward run, getting ahead of Van Buyten, and fired a shot with his right foot!

The Canal+ commentator's voice suddenly rose in volume:

"Pulso shoots!!"

The ball had already passed goalkeeper Lunger and was about to roll into the net.

Van Buyten burst forth like a giant tower, making a flying sliding tackle on the goal line to deflect the ball out of bounds with his right shin!
"Van Buyten!!! An incredible clearance! He saved Marseille!"

Pulso knelt down, holding his head in his hands, unable to believe the ball hadn't gone in.

Van Buyten roared and pounded his chest, while Marseille players rushed over and frantically rubbed the back of his head.

Deschamps scratched his temple on the sidelines.

As a Marseille legend, he couldn't afford to act too out of line.

But that ball should have opened the scoring!

"Monaco's attack was like mercury flowing, but Van Buyten, at this moment he was Marseille's wall of sighs!"

Two minutes later, Eker finally received a yellow card for a reckless tackle that knocked down Giuly.

35 minutes.

The commentator's voice suddenly became tense and urgent:

"Evra has been brought down by Laurentti! Players from both sides quickly surrounded him! The atmosphere is tense!"

After receiving a pass from Rothen, Evra shifted his position and was about to break through on the wing when he was tackled by Laurentti with a hook kick, rolling twice before coming to a stop.

Evra jumped up in a rage and shoved Laurentti in the chest: "Fuck you! Where the hell are you kicking?!"

At just 19 years old, Laurenti, hot-blooded and impetuous, retorted with a highly provocative racist term:

"Black monkey, go back to your jungle!"

These words ignited the powder keg, and Evra instantly flew into a rage, raising his fist to strike Laurentti!
Both teams' players are rushing towards this side.

Roy quickly ran over to intervene, darting between the two, his back to Laurenti, his arms outstretched to protect Evra, and at the same time, he shoved Laurenti back half a step with his hip.

Laurentti tried to lunge forward, but Roy turned around, stretched out his arm, pushed him, and held him down.

He then turned and locked his gaze on Laurentti, lowering his voice to threaten:

"Shut your fishy-smelling mouth! Want to say that again in front of the referee?! Huh?!"

He turned and pressed down on Evra's shoulder, his tone firm but reassuring: "Don't do anything, calm down, this is a trap."

Thierry Rolland: "Roy intervened! He stepped between the two, protecting his teammate and preventing the situation from escalating! What did Laurentti say? Evra was practically trying to kill someone!"

Even after being stopped by Roy, Evra was still gritting his teeth, but he eventually restrained himself and just spat on the ground.

The referee rushed onto the field and showed Laurentti a yellow card (dangerous action) and Evra a yellow card (pushing).

However, he ignored the Monaco players' complaints of racist remarks, stating that he did not hear them.

Marseille players remained unconvinced and surrounded the referee in protest.

Monaco players collectively shielded Evra and protested to the referee about Evra's yellow card.

Roy slowly approached Laurentti, his cleats grinding against the turf, and whispered in a blind spot of the referee's sight:

"Remember to look up at the scoreboard at 90 minutes. We'll expose your cheating team and make that rat in the suit (Perrin) cry his eyes out." Laurentti, who escaped a red card, suddenly contracted his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing but no sound coming out. He instinctively took a half-step back: "But...but you're just someone who got knocked down."

Roy's face showed a mocking expression: "Because I am Roy, there are people on the field watching me commit fouls, and there are also people who remember that I scored a goal today, making Marseille be carried off their pitch like a dead rat."

He uttered his last word:
"Petit con! (You little bastard!)"

43 minutes.

Laurentti received the ball on the right wing and, looking down, discovered that Evra had blocked his cutting-in route—the Monaco left-back had his arms outstretched like eagle wings, his eyes fixed on Laurentti's feet.

Because he was carrying a yellow card, Evra did not rush to tackle him. Instead, he lowered his center of gravity, maintained a distance of 1.5 meters, and used body language to force Laurentti to make a decision.

His left foot was slightly turned outwards, blocking the crossing route, while his right foot lightly touched the ground, ready to start at any moment.

Laurentti wanted to cross, but Evra's height (1.75 meters) completely blocked the passing angle.

He wanted to break through, but Evra's speed made him hesitant to take the initiative.

A fatal 0.5-second hesitation—Lorenti's right foot feinted over the ball, causing it to roll slightly out of his control.

Max started quietly from his ribs, his sprint like a drawn sword.

He lowered his left shoulder, precisely pressing it against Laurentti's right rib, causing him to lose his balance.

He stepped forward with his right leg, forcing the ball and Laurentti towards the sideline.

Max's hip thrusts, like a bulldozer, "scoop" Laurentti out of bounds—not a foul, but pure physical crushing.

Laurentti's left foot slipped on the grass.

The ball bounced off Laurentti's ankle and went out of bounds, but Max poked it back into play with his toe 0.1 seconds before it went out of bounds.

He turned around smoothly and used his back to shield Laurentti from the counter-attack, his ball protection move was textbook perfect.

"Max!! That defense was a work of art! He was like a moving wall, forcing Laurentti out of bounds! Look at the details of this confrontation—no fouls, just pure, overwhelming power! Monaco's counter-attack is coming!"

After being thwarted, Laurentti quickly intercepted the ball from Evra.

Evra starts!
He suddenly pushed off the ground, flicked the ball with his left foot, and it passed through Laurentti's legs like a sharp blade!
"Oh my god! A groin slit! Perfect angle calculation! Evra has once again nailed Laurentti to the pillory of shame!"

Put on the Rothen!

Roy made a diagonal run down the flank, drawing Hemdani's attention, and then suddenly dropped back to the edge of the penalty area, creating space to receive the ball.

Instead of going down the wing, Evra suddenly stopped, twisted his right foot, and passed the ball back to Rothen who had made a run into the box.

Laurentti was tricked! His balance was lost, and he staggered as he turned to chase after Evra, his left hand instinctively grabbing at Evra's jersey but missing completely.

Right center-back Eker was forced to move laterally to cover, leaving space behind him.

"Rothen's magic moment! Three feints were like hypnosis! Hemdani was completely fooled!"

Rothen received the ball and quickly performed three stepovers, raising his foot as if to unleash a long-range shot! Hemdani leaped to block, crashing sideways onto the turf.

Instead, he used the arch of his foot to push in a straight line, with a light and effortless push!
Giuly cut inside from the right wing position, drawing Van Buyten's attention.

Pulso suddenly made a run to the near post and took Dos Santos by the way.

The ball slipped under Hemdani's arm and found Roy precisely on the left side of the penalty area!

Roy receives the ball with his back to goal!

Meyette was forced to press forward, resulting in him overlapping with Eker's position.

Eker and Meyette immediately double-teamed him! The two surrounded him like an iron gate, but Roy received the ball with his back to goal and turned with his right foot, his left elbow concealed to block Eker, and when he shot, he deliberately pressed down with the instep to aim for a low shot.

With such a narrow shooting range, Roy could only manage a powerful shot!
"Roy is both agile and tough! He managed to create shooting space despite being double-teamed! That low shot!"

Max quietly moved to the edge of the penalty area, preparing for a follow-up shot.
Evra makes a run along the byline to receive a cross.
The ball headed straight for the bottom right corner, and Lunger dove sideways like a spring, blocking the ball with one hand!
He hit his left shoulder on the goalpost.

"An incredible save! Lonjad is like he's on a spring!"

Monaco fans collectively clutched their heads, letting out painful "Aaaah!" cries, with some pounding their seats.

Marseille fans celebrated wildly.

Giuly suddenly started from the right flank, and when he pushed off with his left foot, he lifted a patch of turf. The ball bounced to the right side of the penalty area, and Giuly arrived like a ghost!
Van Buyten made a flying tackle to block! His studs almost grazed Giuly's ankle, but he missed and slid out of bounds, crashing into an advertising board.

Giuly got there first, poking the ball with his left foot!

Lonjad makes another save!

As he fell, his right knee slammed into the ground, his thigh muscles tensed, and he used his shin to deflect the ball, sending it flying towards the edge of the penalty area!

Thierry Rolland's tone grew increasingly anxious:

"Giuly's shot! Van Buyten's flying tackle to block—just a hair's breadth away! Lunger blocked it with his leg! The ball is still inside the penalty area! Monaco fans are already wailing in despair, and the Marseille fans' cheers are stuck in their throats—and this isn't over yet!!!"

Pulso leaped high, veins bulging on his forehead, and collided shoulder to shoulder with Dos Santos in mid-air, forcefully overpowering his opponent by half a head, before unleashing a powerful header that slammed into the goal!

Dos Santos lost his balance, staggered and fell to the ground, instinctively grabbing Pulso's jersey with his left hand, but it was too late.

Meyette leaped and turned sideways on the goal line, bracing the ball with his right shoulder. The ball hit his collarbone and deflected out of bounds!

Thierry Rolland's voice was almost choked with emotion:
"Purso – a header!! Meyette blocks the shot with his body! The ball bounces off his shoulder! Marseille's defense is crumbling! Monaco players are charging into the penalty area like madmen, and Marseille fans are starting to pray. This is practically a battle royale!"

The ball flew diagonally towards the edge of the penalty area.

Before the ball could bounce, Max, who had made a run into the box, unleashed a powerful shot with the instep of his right foot! The ball flew through the air like a cannonball, almost without spin, and hurtled straight into the top left corner of the goal!

Celestini stretched his leg out desperately, but the ball grazed past the tip of his shoe.

Lunger made a desperate dive, barely managing to touch the ball with his fingertips, but the impact sent him crashing into the goalpost!
But the ball bounced off the underside of the crossbar and back into the penalty area! It landed near the penalty spot!

The oppressive atmosphere in the entire venue almost froze!
Thierry Rolland's voice was completely choked:
"Max—powerful shot!!! Lunger made the save! The crossbar! The ball bounced back!! The penalty area is packed with players! Marseille players have formed a human wall on the goal line, Monaco players are playing with ferocity! This is no longer football, this is war!!"

"It was like a bomb had exploded inside the penalty area! Three rebounds, three blocks! It was like a Russian roulette game between the goalkeeper and the striker!"

Chaos erupts in the penalty area! The ball falls toward the penalty spot, and Eker and Van Buyten both dive for it!

But Roy burst through the gap between the two! With his back to the goal, he leaped into the air half a step ahead, his body bent like a fully drawn bow!

Eker's fingernails nearly tore through Roy's jersey, and Van Buyten's clearance foot was only 10cm from his face!

Barrel hook!!!

His right leg swung out like a battle axe, and the ball drew a deadly arc, flying straight into the top right corner of the goal!
Lunger was desperate! He barely managed to raise his hand, but the ball had already passed his fingertips!

The ball blasted into the corner like a cannonball, and Lunger watched in despair. The Marseille players froze, as if time had stood still.

"Oh my god!!! Roy! Roy! Roy!!! This isn't a goal, it's a work of art! This is a bicycle kick in the Marseille night sky! This is a shot that tears history apart! Look at the move! Look at the precision! Look at the madness! The goalkeeper was powerless! The defenders were powerless! No one could stop this! This is genius! This is madness! This is this is Roy!!! My God! My God! My God!!! He did it! He did it! Marseille's iron defense has finally been torn apart! Monaco fans are going crazy! Marseille fans are collapsing! This bicycle kick will be etched into Werrodrom's pillar of shame!! This bicycle kick defies physics! Look at the parabola! Look at the descent! Even if Lunger had three arms, he couldn't have saved it!"

Monaco's substitutes threw towels and water bottles into the air, and the team doctor was almost knocked over by the excited Deschamps.

Deschamps sprinted 30 meters and almost crashed onto the pitch, but his old assistant coach grabbed the back of his suit jacket tightly.

Van Buyten knelt down and covered his face, while Lundgren slumped on the door line, his eyes vacant.

A deafening roar erupted from the Monaco fan section, and in the South Stand's die-hard section—for the first time in 30 years!!!
Silence fell.

(End of this chapter)