Awakening the Messi template, Florentino Pérez begs me to join Real Madrid

March 5, 2011, Guangzhou Baiyun Mountain Training Base.

Inside the changing room.

Wu Shi sat in front of the cabinet in the corner, his new No. 21 jersey hanging neatly, though he had never worn it in an official match.

I've been at Evergrande for a month now.

The training intensity is two levels higher than in Shaanxi. We get up at 6:30 every morning, eat a nutritious meal at 7:00, and start the first training session at 8:00.

Lippi's Italian coaching team pushed the stopwatch to the limit—if the 30-meter sprint was 0.1 seconds off, they had to start over; if there were more than three mistakes in passing and receiving practice, the whole group had to do five extra sets of shuttle runs.

Wu Shi can keep up.

High-intensity combat mode is now activated.

High-intensity training environment detected.

[Real-time correction module activated: cadence, ball contact force, and running route optimization in progress...]

During each training session, it felt like there was an invisible coach in my head giving me real-time instructions: "Lower your center of gravity by three centimeters," "Adjust the angle of your left foot to touch the ball by 15 degrees," "Look up and see the position of your third teammate."

He did as instructed. Then he discovered that he was actually able to get past national team-level defenders like Feng Xiaoting and Zhang Linpeng in scrimmage, and even execute one-two passes with Muriqui and Conca.

But it didn't work.

Training well doesn't guarantee you'll be able to play.

The first team has 28 players, and the competition is as brutal as a gladiatorial arena.

The four starting forwards are: Muriqui (left), Conca (attacking midfielder), Cleo (center forward), and Gao Lin (right).

The bench also features national team players like Jiang Ning and Wu Pingfeng. And that doesn't even include several outstanding youth team players who could potentially be promoted to the first team at any time.

Wu Shi? 16 years old, a newcomer from China League One.

On the day the Super Cup roster was announced, my name was listed last on the substitute list.

"What are you looking at?" A voice came from behind. It was Jiang Ning, holding shin guards. "First time on the roster?"

Takeshi nodded.

"That's normal." Jiang Ning smiled. "When I was in Qingdao, I spent most of my first year sitting on the bench. Take it slow."

It's easy for him to say. But Wu Shi saw something in Jiang Ning's eyes—it was the look of a veteran looking at a newcomer, a look that carried a hint of sympathy and a sense of "you've got a long way to go."

March 12, Guangzhou Tianhe Sports Center.

In the Super Cup, Guangzhou Evergrande will face Shandong Qilu, the reigning Chinese Super League champions.

An hour before the match, Wu Shi sat on the far side of the bench. His view was excellent; he could see the entire stadium clearly. The 50,000-seat stadium was already 80% full, a sea of ​​red filled with cheers.

In his mind, the system was updating data:

[A national-level professional league atmosphere detected]

[Recommendation: Enable "Observer Mode" to learn the decision-making logic of players on the field.]

Wu Shi did as instructed. Semi-transparent tactical indicator lines appeared at the edge of his vision—the optimal running routes and passing lines simulated by the system based on real-time match data.

Then he saw something that shocked him.

Muriqui received the ball on the left wing.

The system's optimal solution was: "Cut inside, draw the center-back's attention, and then pass to the onrushing Sun Xiang on the wing." In reality, Muriqui did exactly that. Completely identical.

Conca broke free in midfield. The system notification read: "Send a long ball over the top to the right front 15 degrees, Cleo is making a run forward." Conca's pass went there.

It's not the system that's imitating them.

Their footballing logic highly overlaps with the "optimal football" calculated by the system.

He recalled his so-called "moments of brilliance" in the China League One, those ball handling decisions that the media touted as "genius decisions"—in reality, they were all standard answers given by the system.

These truly top-tier players can deliver the standard answer on their own.

"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath.

Game start.

Qilu played with great skill.

Instead of competing with Evergrande in terms of technique, they adopted a more defensive approach, using physical confrontations to disrupt the rhythm of the game.

In the 18th minute, Evergrande, after a prolonged attack without success, made a mistake in their own half, allowing Shandong to score on a counter-attack. 0-1.

Lippi shrugged on the sidelines.

Wu Shi looked towards the substitutes' bench. The assistant coach was whispering with Lippi, gesturing on the tactics board with his fingers.

Lippi shook his head, then glanced at the substitutes' bench—his gaze lingered on Jiang Ning and Wu Pingfeng's faces, swept over Wu Shi, and then moved away.

Wu Shi understood from that look in his eyes: It's not time to use you yet.

Just before halftime, Evergrande equalized. Conca scored directly from a free kick. 1-1.

During halftime, the atmosphere in the locker room was heavy.

"They're disrupting the rhythm with fouls," Lippi said in Italian, which the translator quickly relayed. "We need someone who can solve problems one-on-one."

The assistant coach noted, "Wu Shi has a very high success rate in one-on-one training..."

Lippi interrupted him: "Training and matches are two different things."

Wu Shi lowered his head. He knew Lippi was right. In training, he was outmaneuvered by his teammates; in a match, he had to overcome the opponents who wanted to cripple him.

The second half begins.

The score remained deadlocked. Shandong's defense was impenetrable, and despite Guangzhou Evergrande's possession, they couldn't break through. Time ticked by.

In the 78th minute, things took a turn for the better.

Muriqui fell to the ground during a challenge, clutching his calf and unable to get up. The team doctor came onto the field and gestured for a substitution.

Lippi turned to look at the substitutes' bench.

Wu Shi felt his heart leap into his throat.

Then he heard: "Wu Pingfeng, warm up."

It was like a bucket of cold water being poured over it.

Wu Pingfeng quickly took off his coat and ran to the sidelines. The fourth official held up the substitution board: Number 7 off, Number 26 on.

Wu Shi stared at the number and suddenly remembered that he also had the number 26 in Shaanxi. But he had changed his number, so he still had to sit on the bench.

In the 85th minute, the second unexpected event occurred.

Conca clutched the back of his thigh after a scramble, his face contorted in pain. He had a cramp.

Lippi frowned. He only had one substitution left. If he replaced Conca, they would lose their attacking playmaker. But if he didn't, playing with one less player was even more dangerous.

The teaching assistant leaned over: "Should we let Wu Shi...?"

"He can't play in Conca's position," Lippi said. "He's too young and can't control the game."

The final decision was to not change players and let Conca grit his teeth and persevere.

The match went into stoppage time, and the score was 1-1.

If it ends like this, it will go to penalties.

The fourth official held up a sign: 3 minutes of added time.

In the 91st minute, Shandong Qilu's final attack was intercepted. Evergrande launched a counter-attack, with the ball passing to Gao Lin on the right wing.

Wu Shi suddenly stood up.

It wasn't excitement, it was the system exploding in my head:

[An excellent opportunity for a counterattack has been detected]

Current formation: 3v3

[Recommendation: The player on the right wing should immediately cut inside to draw the center-back away, creating space for the player making a run down the left wing]

[Execution probability: Gao Lin 87%, Wu Pingfeng 62%, Wu Shi...]

He didn't look at his own chances. Because he saw Gao Lin's choice—dribble down the wing and try to cross.

Meanwhile, Shandong's two center-backs had retreated into the penalty area, blocking all crossing routes.

"Cut inside!" Takeshi almost shouted out loud.

Gao Lin crosses the ball. The ball is headed away by the center-back.

The chance to counterattack is gone.

Wasted Opportunities

The optimal solution failed to execute.

The system's cold, impersonal message felt like a mockery.

Wu Shi slumped back onto the bench. In that moment, he understood: what good was knowing the correct answer? He wasn't the one playing on the field.

The final whistle blew. 1-1, penalty shootout.

Lippi gathered the players together and quickly arranged the penalty kick order. Wu Shi stood on the outermost edge of the crowd, like a bystander.

The penalty shootout has begun.

In the first four rounds, both sides converted all their penalties. The score was 4-4.

In the fifth round, Shandong took the first penalty and scored. 4:5.

The last penalty taker for Evergrande was Gao Lin.

The stadium fell silent. Fifty thousand people were focused on the penalty spot.

Gao Lin takes a run-up and shoots.

The ball went wide.

It flew ridiculously high, directly towards the second-floor stands.

The Shandong players rushed onto the field in a frenzy of celebration. Meanwhile, the Guangzhou Evergrande side remained deathly silent.

Wu Shi watched as Gao Lin knelt before the penalty spot, covering his face with his hands. He recalled the decision not to cut inside when he should have, and the cross he had delivered.

That's how cruel football can be. One wrong choice can cost you a game, a championship.

No one spoke in the locker room after the match. Lippi walked in, patted Gao Lin on the shoulder, and then said to everyone, "Go back and rest. We'll do video analysis tomorrow morning."

There was no cursing, no outburst of anger. But the feeling of suppression was even more unbearable than cursing.

As Wu Shi was changing clothes, his phone vibrated. It was a message from Li Jianguo: "Watched the live stream, what a pity. You weren't on?"

He replied, "No."

"That's normal. It's only been a month; just take it slow."

Wu Shi did not reply.

When he left the stadium, most of the fans had already left. Several reporters surrounded him, their microphones almost shoving into his face.

"Wu Shi, are you disappointed that you didn't play today?"

"Does Lippi still not trust you?"

When do you think you'll be able to play in a match?

Wu Shi walked forward with his head down, and the security guards blocked the reporters. Only after he got into the car and closed the door did the world quiet down.

He opened his phone; the news was already out.

Evergrande loses on penalties and misses out on the title; Lippi's debut ends in disappointment.

Gao's missed opportunity makes him the culprit, causing him to miss the Super Cup.

The exorbitant roster price tag cannot mask the team's weaknesses; Guangzhou Evergrande's attack relies heavily on foreign players.

The comments section exploded:

"Gao Lin is really no good; he falls apart at crucial moments."

Why isn't Lippi playing Wu Shi? His training sessions have been quite intense, haven't they?

"What can you expect from a 16-year-old? Evergrande's acquisition of him is just hype."

Wu Shi turned off his phone and leaned his head against the car window.

Outside, Guangzhou's night view was dazzling with lights. The city was vast and bustling, but at that moment he felt like an outsider.

Back in the apartment—a studio apartment rented by Evergrande for young players, forty square meters, much better than the dormitory in Shaanxi, but also much emptier.

He turned on the TV, just as the final moments of the match were being replayed. It was a slow-motion replay of Gao Lin's cross from the byline during that counter-attack.

The system automatically analyzes:

[Scene Replay]

[Optimal solution: Cut inside and pass across the middle, Conca runs in and shoot]

[Actual choice: Cross from the byline]

[Success Rate Comparison: 68% vs 23%]

Result: Wasted opportunity

Wu Shi stared at the screen.

If he were on the field at that moment, the system would have instructed him to cut inside. Would he have listened? Would he have made a different choice than the current national team's top striker, in the middle of stoppage time during the Super Cup final, under the watchful eyes of 50,000 people?

he does not know.

My phone vibrated again. This time it was an unknown number.

"Feed?"

"Wu Shi? I'm a reporter from Football News. I'd like to arrange an interview to talk about your adaptation to Evergrande..."

"Sorry, it's not convenient." Wu Shi hung up.

He walked to the window. In the distance, the lights of Tianhe Sports Center were still on, like a blue castle.

Is there a place for him in the castle?

Maybe, but we'll have to wait. We'll wait for someone to get injured, for someone to be out of form, for Lippi to suddenly say after training one day, "You'll start the next game."

When will it be? I don't know.

Wu Shi opened the wardrobe and took out the pair of sneakers that he hadn't worn in an official match yet.

He recalled his last match in Shaanxi, and the crucial goal that secured his promotion to the Super League in the rain.

He recalled the Evergrande scouts and that high-paying contract in the office. Back then, he thought that going to Evergrande would be a new world.

He now realizes that the door to a new world has been opened, but he's stuck at the entrance.

"Take it slow." Li Jianguo's words echoed in my ears.

Wu Shi put the shoes back and closed the cabinet door.

Just keep going.

Anyway, he has plenty of time.

Some were unwilling to accept it.

It was late at night, and a new day had not yet begun, but Wu Shi had already decided that he would still be the first to arrive at tomorrow's training session.

Even if you're sitting on a bench, you should make sure everyone sees your attitude.