atypical center forward

Chapter 12
Mei Yun is less than 50 years old, married happily, a couple of children and peace of mind, a happy life, a very good spirit, an intellectual and elegant temperament that even the stewardesses on the plane feel ashamed, and besides Chu Yu is also very beautiful, the two of them attracted a lot of attention when they appeared at the airport.

As soon as she walked out of the passageway, she saw her bastard coming up to her with a bright face. Mei Yun was even happier. Although she often made phone calls and videos, she still couldn't help thinking about it day and night. She always felt relieved when she saw a real person.

The three of them were not as pretentious as they were in third-rate TV dramas, they would run and hug each other as soon as they met.

"I lost weight." Mei Yun patted Chu Yang's shoulder and said.

"I say this every time we meet." Mingming just said that it doesn't look like a third-rate TV series.

"That's right, Mom, I don't know how nourishing it is to live in the land of capitalism," Chu Yu smiled maliciously, "Is that right, Ah Yang, is the nutritious meal delicious?"

Chu Yang has complained about those foods to her more than once. Chu Yu is a typical example of which pot is not opened and which pot is lifted, and the scar is exposed to the most painful one.

Chu Yang couldn't help rolling his big eyes, and with a "wow", he gestured to capsize the boat. Of course, no one except Chu Yu knew what his strange movement meant.

Anyway, the boat of family affection has to capsize several times at every turn, Chu Yu is used to it, and Mei Yun is even more used to this pair of living treasures at home.

Chu Yang accepted Mei Yun's salute, and Chu Yu walked out of the airport holding Mei Yun's hand from left to right as they did when they were children, smiling sweetly, as naive as they could be.

There were still two days before the start of the game, and the whole club was facing a formidable enemy, but only Chu Yang had a happy face, and he was still in the mood to wander around with his family. On the day of the game, he was still calm and contented, like an outsider.

It's decided, No. 9 will continue to sit on the bench.

…………

After all, the ancestors were rich, and the Mestalla stadium in Valencia is not shabby at all. The locker room of the home team is not much better than that of Deportivo. The 5 seats outside are already filled with flocking fans. This number is already the standard of a La Liga team. Chu Yang, who has barely seen a big scene, can't help being a little excited.

"I don't think the meaning of this game needs to be repeated. Cesc, Banderas, Fernando, Antonio, you all came out of the team's youth training camp, as well as Adrian, Garcia, Lucio and many others. You all know the history of Valencia." Gressel looked at his disciples seriously, "People outside call us the clown army, because they think we are a group of clowns who can only immerse themselves in the glory of the past. Even many opponents we have won so hard dare to laugh at us. Why? ?”

"Because we have embarrassed our ancestors," Moya replied, "Our team used to be brilliant in the top arena, making the whole of Europe excited and making all the enemies tremble, but now we can only mix in the low-level leagues, just like the former nobles turned into country bumpkins. The more glorious the history, the sadder it is now."

Goalkeeper Fernando Cayo also said: "Yes, I don't know what you think. Maybe playing here is just a job for you, but I am a child who grew up in Valencia, and this is my home. My biggest dream is to reproduce the glory of Valencia. Whoever stands in front is my enemy."

Whether they were sincere or not, the others all agreed, and the atmosphere was finally brought to the top by Gressel. When the time came, a group of people rushed out as if preparing to go to the battlefield.

Valencia's home jersey is not the white shirt and black trousers of the Bat Corps in Chu Yang's memory, but the whole body is white, which is a bit like Real Madrid's jersey.

The sports channel of Valencia TV broadcast the game live, with Mikel as the commentator, and of course the chief commentator Mr. Ugo as the guest.

"Oh Dias, what are you looking for?"

"Where's the Chinese boy? Why isn't he playing?"

"So you watched the tape of that game?"

"Of course, I mean, thank goodness I went to see it, Marco did something stupid, he put that kid on the bench, he's going to regret it, I promise."

"Hahaha, so you have become a Chinese fan too?"

"No, no, it's early, he hasn't proved himself at the Mestalla Stadium yet, and wants me to be his fan. He has scored at least ten goals this season."

"Scoring ten goals in half a season means an average goal rate of around 0.5 per game. Isn't your request too high?"

"No, not at all, he'll do it, believe me, Mikel, it's a striker's instinct, the kid will be a good killer, a white ghost, just like me."

"Okay, let's put the Chinese boy aside first, and focus on the game. Cesc guessed coins and won against Marchena and chose to kick off first. In this game, Valencia still adopted a 451 formation. Adrian stepped forward, Banderas and Garcia were separated on both sides, Cesc led Lucio and Juan Letta to form a midfield line, and behind him was central defender Antonio..."

Chu Yang sat down on his seat and began to search for his mother and sister. Unfortunately, he only knew the approximate area. The crowd was so dark that he couldn't tell who was who, so he could only focus on the court.

Valencia had a strong desire to attack and actively pushed forward in the midfield at the beginning of the game. Ameari was much more cautious and shrunk the defense very far back. Except for the two forwards who were still cruising in the frontcourt, other players participated in the defense.

Moya showed the demeanor of Prince Mestalla, dribbling and passing the ball with ease, and the midfield of the entire team was revitalized by him.

"It's Moya again, a beautiful breakthrough, our prince is getting more and more mature, as long as he succeeds in this season, he can become king."

"Hey, Mikel, what do you mean, I, the king of Mestalia, is here, who do you think will be crowned?"

"Okay, Dias, you're the past tense, the future is the youth... The ball passed, Adrian! Oh, unfortunately, it missed the spot, bad luck."

"It's not luck," Ugo said bluntly. "The reaction was too slow when the ball came over, so there was no time to adjust when receiving the ball. Ameyari's defender is not a stump."

"Well, you always have a point, but it's a pity that Moya's wonderful pass, Brady's guts are good, and he only placed a defensive player next to Cesc."

"That's because he knows that Cesc's scoring ability in sports battles is terrible except for free kicks. He only needs to block Adrian and Lucio, who is good at long-range shots, can limit Valencia's offense."

"Dias, which side are you on?"

British coach Brady showed a confident smile on the sidelines. Everyone knows that Moya is the core of Valencia's midfield. As long as Moya is restricted, it is equivalent to forcibly shutting down Valencia's offensive engine.

It is said that the midfielder wins the world, but he just allows Moya to wreak havoc in the midfield, and then sticks to other offensive points. The bully is that Moya can't shoot.

Now it seems that the effect is good, and the next step is to counterattack.

(End of this chapter)