When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 71 Ronaldo
"Damn it, Fabian (Barthez), don't you think these Spaniards are making a mountain out of a molehill? All I wanted to do was play some pool in the middle of the night, and that repairman was dragging his feet like a woman. I just 'bumped' him a little, and he fucking went on the alarm!"

"A key player for the England national team! And what's this? The coaching staff forced me to apologize, and they even stuffed a bunch of cheap souvenirs into the hands of those two waiters, as if I were some street thug!"

He leaned closer to Barthes, lowering his voice, but he couldn't suppress the resentment in his voice:

"Do you know what's most disgusting? These media outlets will definitely write 'England team's lack of discipline' and 'Ferdinand's drunken brawl. Ha!"

He was recounting a recent scandal that broke out during England's training camp in Mallorca: Ferdinand and Terry got drunk and caused trouble at 3:30 a.m., clashing with hotel staff over the repair of a pool table.

Ferdinand, while intoxicated, grabbed staff member Toralba by the neck and yelled, "You dare touch me!" He then hastily apologized after Toralba's colleague, Perez, pressed the alarm.

This continues the England team's drinking tradition—Sheringham and others were heavily intoxicated before the 98 World Cup, and Gerrard and others also drank heavily late at night in 02. In addition, national team players such as Terry, Jenas, Sinclair, and Bridge were also addicted to gambling, often playing roulette late into the night behind the coaching staff's backs.

When security chief Wittworth arrived, he ordered Ferdinand to apologize.

Before leaving, the team presented him with souvenirs to quell the situation, but the scandal of alcoholism and violence had already been confirmed.

Hotel staff member Toralba commented: "Perhaps many England players earn more in a week than we do in a lifetime, but their actions are truly shocking. I think it's not surprising at all why England can't win the World Cup."

"But speaking of which, Fabian, wasn't your French team like that back in the day? Before the 98 World Cup, didn't Desailly and the others sneak out and drink until the early hours of the morning?"

Barthez grumbled, "But we still fucking won! So screw the rules, screw the media—who cares about this crap when we're winning?"

Now it was Ferdinand's turn to be unhappy.

As Roy slowly approached, Barthez and Ferdinand were leaning against the bar with their arms around each other.

"The treasure the old man has his eye on has arrived."

Barthes raised his eyebrows, his strong arms beneath his black sleeveless T-shirt swirling in his wine glass.

Ferdinand squinted his drunken eyes, his bald head gleaming in the sunlight: "The old man doesn't like blond hair anymore, he's going to get black hair instead?"

He licked his lips, then suddenly lowered his voice and chuckled lewdly, "I'm waiting for him to masturbate while looking at Clayton Blackmore's picture!"

This stems from the bullying culture in Manchester United's dressing room in the last century, where newcomers were required to make sexually suggestive gestures in front of photos of veteran players.

Brighton-Blackmore's photographs are often used as objects of this kind of behavior.

If they refuse, they will be isolated or even threatened with violence.

The victims include David Beckham, Gary Neville, Paul Scholes, Nicky Butt, and Robbie Savage.
Nicky Butt was locked in a locker, carried onto the team bus, and driven to the game venue.

Scholes was forced to crawl into a tumble dryer, which triggered an acute asthma attack.

Robbie Savage was taken to a dark room and forced to have a relationship and sex with a mop.

However, after these people became the main force, this kind of behavior was not banned, and gradually evolved into something like an "induction ceremony," probably because they had been rained on.
"what!"

"he?"

The Frenchman tapped his temple with his index finger. "This kid's a cunning old fox, not a pushover."

"When he went into the locker room, he was probably thinking about how to get rid of Van Nistelrooy!"

British media have been frequently reporting on the controversial Roy saga lately, with The Sun even using the headline "Roy's Transfer Curse," pointing out that the striker "sacrifices" one of the team's existing star strikers every time he joins a new club. The paper also launched a fun poll: if Roy joins Manchester United, which striker is most likely to be sacrificed? Diego Forlán ultimately topped the poll with 98% of the vote.

Another 2% of fans gave irrelevant answers, suggesting that Liverpool be loaned for six months first in order to sacrifice Michael Owen.

As Roy stepped onto the steps of the open-air observation deck.

Barthez was the first to spot him, a wide smile spreading across his face behind his sunglasses. He raised a glass of chilled champagne and shouted, "Look who's here! The Ligue 1 top scorer—Mr. Twenty-Four Goals!"

The crisp sound of glasses clinking together mingled with the distant roar of an F1 engine.

Ferdinand leaned lazily against the bar, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes behind his sunglasses: "A defender in Ligue 1?"

He slowly sipped his whiskey. "My grandma could get past the whole line of defense even with a cane."

Roy glanced at him.

Indeed, Ronaldo was using crutches when he dribbled past you, it was like he was hallucinating from being dribbled past.

Unfortunately, Barthez was right next to him, so Roy couldn't mock him to his face, because every time Ferdinand was beaten and seemed to lose his composure, it was Barthez who got shot and had to repeatedly retrieve the ball from the net.

"Is your grandma a member of the England women's national football team? Has she retired?"

Butters suddenly burst into laughter, his thick arms wrapping around Roy's shoulders like iron hoops: "Come on, kid, I'll show you what real world-class players are like."

He deliberately shoved aside the waiter blocking his way with his shoulder, causing the champagne to slosh violently in the glass. "Ignore those sour grapes."

Ferdinand's expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly regained his nonchalant demeanor.

He turned and flirted with his female companion, as if the conversation had never happened.

As Roy was half-pushed through the crowd by Barthez, Ronaldo leaned against the railing, dressed in a simple black T-shirt and black baseball cap. His round face had a healthy blush, and his rabbit teeth made his smile particularly infectious.

Although his physique is no longer as lean as it was in his prime, his broad shoulders and strong arms still exude power.

His eyes were the most striking feature—bright and lively, as if they were always looking for an opportunity to break through.

Bono, the lead singer of the Irish band U2, stood beside him, his face mostly hidden by sunglasses, revealing only his angular chin and lips that always wore a faint smile.

Barthes grinned, his arm still draped over Roy's shoulder, and said in heavily accented French English:
"Ronnie, let me introduce you to an interesting kid—Roy, the top scorer in Ligue 1 with 24 goals, and..."

Butters lowered his voice, taunting, "They say his acceleration is harder to defend than your pendulum."

Ronaldo raised an eyebrow, his signature buck teeth peeking out from his smile. He glanced at Roy for a second before extending his hand:
"Ha! Barthez, you've finally brought someone who can actually score goals to see me."

When shaking hands, apply a slight firmness, conveying both the senior's approval and a touch of probing.

"24 goals? Not bad, Monaco's new king. I heard this is your territory, I said I have to meet you."

Da Luo paused for a moment, then gave a sly smile: "However, I scored 35 goals when I was 18."

Roy gave a rare, genuine smile.

At this moment, he was no longer the rebellious star who mocked and ridiculed others, but rather like a boy who had finally met his idol: "Ronnie, I'd rather be a good student than a king."

Before he arrived, he whispered to his girlfriend with a rare excitement in his voice, “This is the man who rewrote football history with his own two feet. He had a seizure on the eve of the 98 World Cup final, and he came back from a serious injury to win the championship in 02. Every goal he scored was like giving the middle finger to fate.”

Ronaldo is perhaps the most controversial player in football. His supporters believe he is the most perfect striker, while his detractors argue that he lacks Champions League titles and league championships, and that his statistics show a clear and consistent weakness compared to "period-long dominators" like Pelé and Messi.

(Period-long reigning champion: the player with the highest average goals per game throughout their career, Messi 0.81, Ronaldo 0.73, not for praise or criticism.)
This is essentially a conflict of evaluation systems: romanticism versus pragmatism.

Proponents focus on "upper limit aesthetics," referring to the alien from 96 to 98 who could single-handedly destroy the defenses.

Critics, on the other hand, emphasize the "floor guarantee" and the lack of stable annual production levels typical of the Merleau-Ronaldo model.

However, we must also consider the difference between the defensive intensity of the Italian Serie A "mini-World Cup" in the 90s and the tactical differences of high-pressing in later years, as well as the refereeing standards after the revision of football rules, which makes cross-era comparisons seem like comparing apples and oranges.

His 34 goals in 47 appearances in his first season with Inter Milan would have been worth at least 1.8 million euros by today's standards.

The unresolved mysteries of the 98 finals and the serious knee injury in 00, among other unfinished events, have enhanced its legendary status.

Perhaps Ronaldo is like a quantum state in the world of football, neither the greatest of all time nor the greatest of all time.

His value lies not in resolving disputes, but in providing a possibility: what kind of brilliant light will be generated when the limits of human athletic talent collide violently with the cruelty of fate.

When we talk about greatness, we may be talking about different types of greatness.

Ronaldo, however, will always belong to the most unique category.

With three rounds remaining in La Liga, Real Madrid is still trailing Real Sociedad.

When discussing the league match two days later, Ronaldo said: "Three matches? That's enough to break any team. We'll bite like hungry wolves every minute until they show a weakness, and then it'll be our turn to shine."

Winning the FIFA World Player of the Year award twice, yet never winning a top-tier league title, is undeniably a great irony for a professional player.

Therefore, Ronaldo desires the league title more than anyone else.

When discussing the Champions League final between two Italian teams two nights ago.

Ronaldo seems to still be upset about Real Madrid's elimination, believing the final was very dull and lacked any excitement: "Milan won the championship, which is arguably the best team in Europe, but from a player's perspective, Real Madrid played the best football in Europe."

But he was clearly very dissatisfied with Milan's victory.

This is probably also related to personal grievances: Milene, who is separated from Seedorf but not yet divorced, recently appeared in public with Seedorf.

Ronaldo turned to Roy and suddenly lowered his voice: "Zidane mentioned you to me last week, 'That kid will wear the white jersey one day.'"

His Portuguese accent made the statement sound like both a prophecy and an invitation.

Roy maintained a perfect social smile.

Inner monologue: Thank you, but there's really no need.

White jersey? More like a Barcelona prison uniform!

Based on the defensive midfield configuration starting next season.

Making me a prisoner of Barcelona would be worse than killing me.

After exchanging pleasantries, the two parted ways.

(End of this chapter)