"The match begins! Dear viewers, you are now watching the focus battle of the first round of Group D in the 12th European Cup!
"The England team, wearing white jerseys, is attacking from right to left on the screen, while the French Team is going from left to right!"
In the broadcast, Gerrard received the football in the backfield and kicked it to Lescott after turning around.
The French Team players slowly pressed past midfield, stopping in the mid-zone, no longer pressing forward; they were prepared to concede possession.
The England team players obviously knew this, but the problem was that they were not good at creating opportunities through passing and control either, only at counter-attacks and fast breaks, so they could only slow down the pace to lure the French players forward.
The two teams were consuming each other's patience. It seemed that without any unexpected circumstances, the pace of the opening would be difficult to pick up.
While they were probing, the camera focused on the coaching area on the sidelines.
Deschamps shook hands and embraced England team coach Pearce, exchanging a few words with a smile. After turning around, they put away their smiles, and their expressions gradually turned solemn.
"This match is extremely crucial for both team coaches, as it is their debut leading their respective teams in a major tournament!
"We all know that the positions of these two teams are not easy to hold, as they are prone to turmoil and pressure from public opinion!
"While ensuring the team's performance, they must also possess a strong heart to stay in this position for a longer period!"
"…"
The camera turned again, capturing the stands, first showing the England WAGs and the French WAGs, causing a cheer in the stadium.
Immediately afterward, Arsenal coach Wenger and his family, and Manchester United coach Ferguson and his family, appeared, clapping their hands.
The two teams they led both had national team players playing against each other, so they would definitely attend on this occasion.
"Boom!!"
When the camera returned, Gerrard completed a long shot in front of the French Team's arc in the penalty area, but it was a bit forced, and the football was easily blocked out of the baseline by Mexès.
Corner kick!
Maël ran back to his own half to open up space for a possible counter-attack, and also to provide a passing option for his teammates after winning the second ball.
"Boom!"
In the corner area, Gerrard sent another cross, which was cleared out of the penalty area by Koscielny at the near post.
Unfortunately, the second ball was taken by Milner, who passed it back to left-back Ashley Cole. It seemed they wanted to steadily control possession and reorganize the attack.
Ashley Cole observed the penalty area and chose to slow down the pace again, pulling the ball and turning to pass it back to center-back Terry.
They didn't want to play against a dense defense; in this situation, they should first attract the French Team out.
"Oh!"
Ashley Cole was still observing the French Team's formation after passing the ball when he suddenly heard a shout.
Turning his head, he saw Benzema appearing on the passing line, intercepting his pass and dribbling towards their penalty area.
Didn't pass! Danger!
The French Team was about to counter-attack! "Thump thump thump!"
He quickly buried his head and rushed back, and the England team and French Team players also buried their heads and ran towards their penalty area. Dozens of thick legs stirred together, bursting with vigorous power.
In the midfield position, Maël turned and accelerated to join the attack, running faster than the other players.
This was an excellent opportunity. The opponent only had 3 defenders in the backfield. As long as Benzema passed the ball over, he would most likely be able to break through one-on-one or one-on-two to complete a shot! In such a fast-paced and highly competitive match, the opportunity to shoot was absolutely precious!
As strong as Ronaldo, he only had 2 shooting opportunities in yesterday's match, and neither was a great chance.
His club teammate Van Persie was restricted throughout the entire match in the Netherlands VS Denmark game, with only one turn and curved shot that didn't even hit the goal.
Although Maël now possessed the truth, with a chance to directly threaten the goal within 45 meters, and a shooting success rate in front of the arc not much weaker than inside the penalty area, it was all useless without a shooting opportunity.
"Benzema! Both sides are open, Nasri and Maël are both asking for the ball!
"Continuing to choose to dribble forward, wanting to shoot himself… Ah! He didn't have time to shoot, Gerrard has already chased back and blocked his shooting line! "He slowed down, opened his body to prepare to pass the ball! But the best opportunity has already been missed, and all 8 of England's players have chased back, forming a dense defensive group!"
"…"
"Boom!"
Benzema passed the ball to the area where Maël was located, which could be considered a slightly helpless pass.
He passed the ball with reluctance, and Maël received it with even more reluctance. As soon as he got the ball, four players pounced on him, blocking all passing lanes.
"Bang!!"
Maël could only use his body to hold off the opposing full-back Glen Johnson, using a bulldozer-like approach to protect the ball and send a cross from the touchline.
At the very beginning of the game, not yet fully adapted to the rhythm, he couldn't directly choose to break through with high-risk fancy moves and dribbling. It was better to choose some safer ways to create threats first.
Otherwise, if they lost the ball, the Three Lions' quick counter-attack might give them the lead, which would be bad.
"Pa!" Gerrard slid in midway and tackled the ball out of bounds, giving the French Team a corner kick.
Maël shook his head regretfully and looked at Benzema, wanting to communicate with him, hoping he would pass the ball earlier next time, but he didn't say anything to avoid undermining the team's morale at the start.
Reviewing this attack, he understood one thing: this wasn't Arsenal, nor the Premier League, nor the friendly matches a few days ago.
His teammates were all main players returning from big clubs, all with the desire to prove themselves on this stage and achieve a higher value. Sometimes they would play a bit selfishly.
He couldn't expect to receive a pass from his teammates every time he was in a better position, especially when the opportunity was fought for by the teammate himself, especially when that teammate was Real Madrid star Benzema.
At least, not now!
Maël walked to the center of the penalty area and stood still, waiting for Nasri's corner kick, while slowly adjusting his mentality.
It's okay, this is just the first crucial battle in a new environment.
As long as he shows his strength on this stage, truly reveals his strong hope of carrying the French Team forward, he believes everything will slowly change! Since club data and friendly match performances can't completely convince these superstar teammates, then the European Cup will completely convince them!
"Bang!!"
Nasri raised his hand and then took the corner kick, aiming towards the middle.
Maël judged the trajectory of the ball, guessing that Welbeck in front of him would likely clear it, but he still jumped up to seize the possibility of the opponent's mistake.
After leaping, he saw that Welbeck, due to insufficient core strength, was afraid that he couldn't stay in the air to head the ball, so he tried hard to stretch his head and neck to reach the point further forward, but instead, he messed it up and missed the header.
Opportunity!
"Bang!!"
Maël's expression changed, his body bent into an arc, and then he unleashed the power of his whole body to whip his head and blast the goal.
"Ooh!" Amidst the surprised voices of both sets of fans, the football flew towards the upper corner on the right side of the net, the angle wasn't tricky, but the power was excellent.
"Pa!!" Joe Hart made a miraculous save at the critical moment, palming the ball away, sending it towards the touchline.
Maël landed and didn't have time to regret it. He saw Benzema rushing towards the second landing point, and quickly rushed towards the open space to prepare for a second shot.
"Bang!" Benzema headed the ball back into the penalty area, but Lescott had already predicted the trajectory of the ball, intercepted it midway, and kicked the ball out of the penalty area, removing the threat.
Maël glanced at Benzema, and together with several other teammates, held his head and stepped back to chase back.
This opportunity came so suddenly and went so suddenly. Until the attack was completely over, many people slowly savored how close they were to taking the lead just now.
"The French Team is a bit unlucky! Maël did everything he could in this attack! He first controlled the ball under the pressure of several players, sent a cross and created a corner kick, and then took the initiative to create a threat himself! Judging from these few minutes at the start, his condition is good, let's see if he can take advantage of this momentum to take the lead first! Because there are too many stars in good form in the European Cup, and football is a sport where momentum ebbs and flows. If you can't take the lead when you should, then it's possible to collapse completely later!"
"..."
On the sidelines, Deschamps helplessly curled his lips and shook his head, his face turning red due to the fluctuating emotions. Judging from the sweat on his temples, he must be extremely nervous.
This Basque, who had rarely done his hair and dressed up meticulously today, had reached the extreme in his desire for goals and victory.
In a daze, he glanced at the VIP stand. Although he couldn't see anything, he knew that there must be an old man looking at him over there, telling him to calm down and trust Maël.
Deschamps felt a little more at ease, mentally suggesting to himself that this was just a game, nothing compared to his life and coaching career.
Inside the commentary booth, dense equipment was set up, and hundreds of commentators from various countries and radio stations were saying something while wearing headphones.
In the commentary of Sky Sports in the UK, Henry and Lineker were the commentary guests for this game.
Today, they were not just commentators, but had their own positions.
As the French Team's all-time top scorer, Henry naturally represented France, and his commentary would be biased towards France; similarly, Lineker was the same. Don't look at him being so carefree every day, he was actually the second-highest scorer in the Three Lions' history.
"Okay, Henry, the Three Lions have been firmly in control of the ball during this period. Do you feel that the French Team is in danger?"
Lineker smiled happily, teasing Henry next to him, "I think you are not far from conceding a goal. The French Team can't always think about relying on defense to find offensive opportunities."
"You know, during Blanc's time, you were still a team that was good at Ball Control."
"After Deschamps took over, he used thunderous methods to change tactics. It seems to have enhanced the offensive efficiency, but it's okay to play against weaker teams. Once it gets to the real battlefield, it becomes a bit weak."
"Haha..." Henry laughed a few times, shaking his head and saying, "It's only been about 30 minutes, it's a bit too arbitrary to say this. Let's see what happens next."
"I think the England team has too much ineffective Ball Control, the French Team's offense is more threatening."
Lineker shook his head, his smile undiminished, he had great trust in his team.
"..."
"*Boom!*"
On the field, Gerrard helped the England team take a set piece on the right, and the Football flew quickly towards the French Team's small penalty area.
The penetration of this ball was very strong, just in a position where Lloris didn't dare to attack, and the French Team's defenders couldn't head it.
Threatening Cross!
Manchester City's iron guard Lescott pushed off the ground and jumped up, jumping ahead of the Football's flight path, waiting for the Football to fly over. Many England fans, looking at his determined appearance, had already stood up in advance.
"*Boom!*"
But at the front point, Maël, who had run back, didn't intend to give him this chance. After jumping up with all his Strength, he used his head to flick the ball backward, out of the baseline, destroying this excellent opportunity.
"Clap clap clap!" In Lescott's frustrated expression, a burst of violent applause rang out throughout the stadium.
The corner kick was taken again, but the quality was not so high, and Koscielny headed it clear out of Malouda's control area.
After Malouda stopped the ball and turned around, he immediately felt the pressure of the press. Although he was an experienced veteran, he seemed a little flustered at this time.
"*Boom!*"
Hesitating for a moment, he could only play a bouncing through ball, sending it to Nasri in front of him to try.
"Crack!" This ball actually worked! England's left-back, former Arsenal player Ashley Cole, was old and afraid that he would not be able to catch up with Nasri, so he rashly slid but missed the ball.
The opportunity is here again! "This is the European Cup, the opponent's defense sometimes seems as solid as a rock because of their strong will, but sometimes it gives people some unexpected opportunities because of being too nervous!
"Whoever can keep their brain highly concentrated at this time, and can adjust and react in the fastest time in the constant changes.
"Then he has a chance to seize this opportunity and turn it into a goal! "Of course, it is very difficult to do this in a confrontation between a group of top players. Generally speaking, this kind of person will have a title, that is, the best!"
"..."
On the right wing, Nasri dribbled the ball while observing the situation in the penalty area. After seeing three players surrounding Maël, he locked his eyes on Benzema.
"*Boom!*"
His right foot wrapped the Football, drawing a beautiful arc, and hit it in front of Benzema.
Benzema crossed the opponent's defender and shoveled out with one foot, competing with goalkeeper Joe Hart for the landing point.
"Pa!" Joe Hart was still one step faster, and took the lead in punching the ball out of the penalty area.
Nasri hugged his head again, Benzema lay in the penalty area for two seconds, and got up unwillingly with a loud shout.
Although the ball was taken down by Cabaye at the second point, their chances of organizing a second attack were very slim, and the opponent's 8-man defensive team fell back into position again.
"*Boom.*"
Cabaye looked left and right, and had to push out a kick, passing the ball to Maël on the wing.
Before Maël received the ball, he saw Glen Johnson's foot hooking over. He didn't stop in place, dodged, and rushed forward to meet the ball, heading it towards the center.
"Shirr!" Gerrard, who was chasing over, decisively shoveled down decisively, wanting to knock him down here.
Less than a half had passed, and their Stamina should still be sufficient, and they didn't want to give him the opportunity to easily reach the center.
"Pa pa. Boom.!"
Maël's determination was very strong this time. He buckled the ball inward with his right foot, pulled the ball back quickly with his left foot, and then picked up the ball with the outside of his right foot, and the person also jumped up, dodging Gerrard's press.
Fancy moves!
"Oh!" The fans' exclamations rang out in the stands. Because the styles of the two sides were similar, and they were unwilling to use high-pressure pressing to play aggressive tactics, the first half was very boring, and many people were almost asleep.
Now seeing Maël's operation, they will naturally light up, with a feeling of unexpectedness.
Hearing their voices, the determination in Maël's eyes became even more firm. After stopping the flying ball, he rushed directly to the center, and chose to slow down in the area about 33 meters away from the goal.
After adapting for the first 20 minutes, the opponent intensified their marking on him in the following 10 minutes or so, making it difficult for him to receive the ball, make moves, or take shots.
But this time, the opponent rushed too aggressively, and his chance came! He knew before the game that he now held the truth in his feet, but this truth had never been verified against Joe Hart's goal.
Time for a shot! "Bang!" He dribbled the ball a small step towards the front and to the side, not continuing to dribble into the densely populated area, but preparing to fire from the spot.
In the forward position, Nasri and Cabaye on the flanks both thought Maël was faking a shot to continue advancing, and they rushed towards the England team's penalty area with their hands raised.
Only Benzema in front and the England team's players saw the desire for the goal flashing in Maël's eyes.
He's going to shoot!
"Block him!!"
"Damn it!!"
Exclamations rang out at the edge of the penalty area, and several England players rushed towards Maël, not even caring about the people behind them.
On the England team's bench to the side of everyone, head coach Pearce was about to walk to his seat to get a drink. After hearing the sound, he looked back and didn't pay much attention after seeing the distance.
It wasn't until he turned again and saw the uncontrollable panic in Gilbert's eyes that he completely faced the goal. At that moment, he saw Deschamps next to him standing on tiptoes out of the corner of his eye.
"Bang!!!"
Maël's body stretched out as usual, and he kicked the football as usual, as if everything was the same as before, and yet, as if everything was different.
Whether it was the illusion of the onlookers' perspective, people felt that Maël's shot was much smoother this time, as if this shot was as easy as pie and didn't require much effort at all.
But looking at the violent shaking of his body before the moment of the shot, and listening to the sound of the ball being struck, how could he not have put in much effort?
Along with a clump of grass more than 20 centimeters in diameter flying up, the football also suddenly lifted off the ground, piercing the air and smashing towards the upper left corner of the goal, just like a real tomahawk missile! "Whoosh!"
In fact, no one saw the trajectory of the football clearly. In just a moment, the football smashed into the dead corner of the upper left corner of the goal. What they saw more was the clump of grass that didn't even fall to the ground after the football went into the net.
"Damn" Joe Hart wanted to shout to cheer himself on and then counterattack, but when he lowered his center of gravity, the ball had already hit the net behind him.
He didn't dare to be sure, or he was hoping for the best, but as the sound of the net shaking violently came, and as Maël's whole body seemed to be suddenly injected with adrenaline, accelerating his sprint to the sidelines, he had to believe it.
Goal! One to zero!
The French Team is in the lead! "Yeahhhh!!!" At the Warsaw National Stadium, more than 30,000 French fans let out hysterical shouts. They were completely awake, as if they had seen a game-winning goal.
"Ciel!!"
In the stands, Wenger's eyes widened. He didn't bother to hug his wife and daughters next to him, but just raised his hands and shouted again and again: "Ciel! Ciel!! Mon Dieu!"
What kind of goal is this?! From more than 30 meters away, a shot that left the goalkeeper with no reaction!
As a person who has dedicated almost his entire life to football, he has personally seen countless long-range shots, but he confirms that he has never seen a shot with this kind of speed! Is this Maël's gift to his first European Cup?
"Ahhhaaa!"
In the French Team's Wives and Girlfriends section, Isabella screamed instantly when she saw Maël's long-range goal, completely disregarding her facial expressions, her face and neck turning red instantly.
If she weren't English, this excitement would be even greater.
She loved football deeply before she knew Maël, and was willing to give everything for her favorite team, let alone after dating one of the top five or even top three athletes in the world today.
Isabella guarantees that no one can understand her feelings at this moment.
Because no one can see their boyfriend score the first goal of the England-France battle and ignite the whole stadium in such a beloved sport, in such a super competition!
"Isabella!"
"My God!"
"He's simply speechless!"
The other members of the French Team's Wives and Girlfriends also lost control of their expressions and jumped wildly in place, running towards Isabella after celebrating and celebrating with her, with many people also giving her kisses on the cheek.
The way they looked at Isabella was even more envious, and many people were imagining how great it would be if their boyfriend or husband scored such a goal first.
Unfortunately, apart from trying to empathize with Isabella, they couldn't truly experience that intoxicating feeling.
"Ohlàlà!!"
On the French Team's bench, a group of substitute players and assistant coaches jumped up from their seats and celebrated wildly in place.
Among their staggered figures was a Basque, clenching his teeth and raising his head.
He didn't make a sound, as if he couldn't speak, or perhaps he wanted to feign profoundness at this moment.
But from his frantically twitching cheeks, people could still understand the surge of emotions within him.
Deschamps stood in place, his hands behind his back, his eyes slowly becoming blurred. Realizing that he had failed to restrain his emotions well, he turned and walked towards the bench to drink water, calming himself down.
"The ball is in!! Whoa.! It's a *world wave*!! A celestial feat!"
Inside the commentary booths, commentators from various countries were rapidly moving their lips, many standing up like the fans or holding their heads. "Maël has awakened the slumbering French Team like an angel! He has changed the dullness of the game!! One-nil! The French Team is leading the Three Lions! They should maintain this score until the end of the first half!"
"Too sudden, a sudden cannon, a sudden goal! Let's take another look, whoa! The speed of this ball is too fast, no one can save this ball, no one!!"
In the Sky Sports commentary box, Lineker's faint smile froze, he held his forehead with one hand, unable to say a word.
Henry's expression also froze, and it took him a long time to open his mouth in shock, "What was that that just flew past? The French Team is leading just like that? Oh oh!"
While speaking, his hands were not idle, quickly importing the shooting footage into the high-tech equipment provided by the radio station, and starting to calculate.
234.4km/h!
An astonishing number instantly appeared, this was the speed of this shot! As a top striker, Henry was very sensitive to this number, he immediately slightly opened his mouth, took a breath of cold air before saying: "234.4km! This means that the *football* flew into the net from 30 meters away in less than 0.5 seconds! Joe Hart's sigh of despair is justified, he certainly didn't expect that at this distance, he would only have this little time to react and save!
"Is this the world's best record?"
"I'm not too sure, but I really can't figure out how this could be blasted out by an 18-year-old player?!"
He said a lot in a row, even forgetting to breathe, until the last breath was used up before he took a breath, and then continued: "I don't quite understand physics or mechanics, but I can use the perspective of *football* to say how amazing it is.
"If I remember correctly, a shot with a ball speed exceeding 200km is a rare sight even in several years!" "And generally this kind of ball is a *volley facing a clearance or a cross, which is to add a force to the football when it already has a force!" "No one can kick such a ball from the spot, even if there is, then either there is a problem with the football*, or there is a problem with the wind speed that day!
"But today's Warsaw, Poland, is almost a windless day!"
"."
In a state of shock, he even forgot to ridicule the 'opposing' commentator Lineker, and just said a lot to himself.
On the field, Maël excitedly laughed and spread his arms, shaking his head and hair towards the corner flag area on the sidelines, as if a monster was about to eat someone.
Of course, his delicate face would not give people the feeling of Haaland, no matter how crazy he was.
The first goal of the European Cup is here!
It is also the first goal of lv5 skill! Maël could feel how crazy many places in the field were at this moment, which also catalyzed his emotions, making his brain seem to enter a fairyland at this moment, incomparably happy, but his body was incomparably hot.
He verified the truth, verified the power of lv5 skills on the field!
If the lv4 *long shot can allow him to score about 8 goals in 30 high-level games; then the lv5 long shot* will definitely allow him to score more than 16 goals! In the future, other abilities will improve, and he will have more shooting opportunities. It is also possible to score 25+ goals in a single season with a simple and brutal heavy cannon!
Apart from not letting him shoot, or interfering with him so that he can't hit the highest quality, or predicting the landing point and saving early, or praying that he makes a mistake, is there any way to defend against this kind of ball? No! Although it is a *long shot*, it is better than a penalty kick!
"Vamos!!" Maël roared and threw his body out, passionately sliding on his knees on the field. No matter when, sliding on his knees to celebrate is always timeless.
This is the beginning of him on this field. From today, he will officially use goals and lv5 *long shots* to challenge major strong enemies! After getting up, he turned around and saw Sagna running at full speed, as well as Nasri and Benzema with their hands covering their mouths in the distance, and the stunned Three Lions players.
"I knew you lied to me!"
Sagna came over and jumped on his body, exclaiming: "That day I asked you if you had improved, you said a little bit, but is this a little bit?!"
"Fack! Long Shot master Gerrard is standing there, but even if he hits a hundred shots in an undisturbed state, he can't hit one of this quality!"
"Don't cue others." Maël put him down and smiled while clapping his hands: "Is the new song ready?"
"It's been ready for a long time."
Sagna nodded with a smile, "If we win this game, I'll sing it in the locker room after the game."
"Okay."
Maël was about to turn around and walk towards his own half to greet other teammates who came to celebrate. After taking two steps, he suddenly remembered something, turned around and faced the stands, making a clown ghost step dance celebration.
"Folala!!"
He satisfied the little girl who was looking forward to his goal before the game. He knew that at this moment, someone must be cheering somewhere in the stands.
"Amazing goal!"
After turning around again, Nasri was already in front of him, reaching out his hand to him, "We may win the first battle, and it is to defeat the strongest opponent in the group!"
Maël clapped his hand and raised his eyebrows and smiled: "Isn't this inevitable? Okay, don't relax, there is still a long time, we must stabilize and relieve the pressure on the defense through offense."
Nasri nodded and turned to run off. Although they had buried the hatchet, it might only be for this tournament, and it wouldn't look good to get too close in front of the cameras.
Next up were Koscielny, Cabaye, and other players, who all congratulated Maël and expressed their amazement.
Maël was very content. He looked up at the Warsaw National Stadium and felt a surge of happiness thinking that he was on the European Cup stage, celebrating a goal scored in the European Cup. It was one of the highest honors for a striker.
"Hi!" On the way back, Benzema also came up beside him and said with a smile, "Although you stole our percentage legend, and someone told me not to get too close to you if you don't join Real Madrid..." Maël's expression froze when he heard this. He didn't expect Benzema to choose such an opening.
Can you even say that? He glanced at Benzema and suddenly understood why he was later kicked out of the national team. Sometimes he just didn't know what was what.
"But that goal was too beautiful. Scoring a goal like that would be my lifelong wish."
Benzema came up and gave Maël a high-five. "I hope we can win and go further."
Maël nodded. After returning to his position, the smile on his face hadn't faded, and he clenched his fist and waved to the fans beside him.
"Aaaahh!" Many people cheered at him, which made the French fans in the stadium boil over again.
"Beep!"
After the game restarted, the French Team took advantage of the momentum from the goal and charged for a few minutes, then retreated again, playing a tactic of not wanting ball control.
On the England Team's bench, coach Pearce sat in his seat with a depressed and anxious expression. After sitting for a while, he turned to Gilbert. "Kid, did you know he had that in him?"
"I..." Gilbert was silent. He didn't know whether to say yes or no.
In fact, he often saw Maël ravaging goalkeepers like this in the EFL Championship. Later, when he went to the Premier League, he thought the other party would restrain himself, but he didn't expect it to be the same.
What he didn't expect even more was that the other party had achieved the same, or even better, results in the faster-paced and more difficult European Cup!
The intensity was changing, the level of the defending players and goalkeepers was changing, the preparation time was shortening, and the line choices were decreasing. Why didn't Maël's cannon change? Well, he had to admit that Maël had changed, and that was that his shooting accuracy and power had improved.
But thinking about it from a normal person's point of view, it was really hard to understand. Every time you felt he was at his limit, he could still bring stronger operations.
Could it be that he really could be one of a kind, as he said?
"Gilbert?"
Pearce's voice sounded, and Gilbert woke up as if from a dream, realizing that the other party had been calling him all along, but his mind had stalled. "Huh?"
"You know him best. I'll put you on in the second half. Stick to him!"
Pearce glanced at the field and then locked his eyes on Gilbert. "Can you do it?"
A look of desire appeared on Gilbert's face. He wanted to say he could try, but after thinking about it, he firmly said, "I can!"
"Good!"
Soon after, the first half of this England-France battle ended. The process was far from wonderful. On the contrary, it was a bit lackluster. Apart from Maël's long shot, the two sides were pulling at each other for the rest of the time.
For people in the football industry, maybe this kind of game was a bit interesting, but for fans, it was boring.
But in any case, everyone had witnessed a history.
A super striker who came up from the second league, after succeeding in the top league, had now blasted in his first European Cup goal.
It seemed that he was about to extend his expanding tentacles to the intercontinental arena!
After the break, the players from both sides returned to the field to prepare for the second half.
"Beep beep!" The substitution whistle sounded, and Tottenham's defensive midfielder Scott Parker was replaced. Gilbert, wearing the number 18 jersey, ushered in his national team debut.
After he gave Parker a high-five, he touched the grass, made a cross on his chest, and then stepped onto the field with his right foot first.
Maël, who was standing on the sidelines, couldn't help but smile when he saw this scene... The long-awaited competition on the same field had finally arrived.
Gilbert also looked at Maël, and he also smiled honestly, his eyes seemingly filled with mixed feelings.
"Beep!"
The game then kicked off, with the French Team sending out a center circle ball and starting the transmission in the backcourt.
The England Team accelerated the pace and began to move the three lines forward. This was also something that couldn't be helped. They had to fight in the second half.
With Rooney's muscles feeling uncomfortable, others had to take responsibility and try to get points from the French Team!
"Bang bang bang!"
The sound of passing the ball continued to ring, and the game was finally a little better, and many England fans also came to their senses.
In the 47th minute, Gilbert, who had just come on, excitedly cut in front to steal the ball from Malouda's pass to Cabaye, and passed it to Gerrard beside him.
The England team launched a quick attack, and Welbeck finally received a cross from Ashley Cole and volleyed, but unfortunately, it went way over the bar.
Six minutes later, the French Team seized a transition opportunity and passed the ball to Maël.
Facing his friend Gilbert's defense, Maël used his quickest steps and highest combat power to shake off his defense, continuing to advance towards the wing while looking for an opportunity to fire a shot from the center.
"Bang!"
Gilbert's body crashed into him fiercely, but as one of the few Premier League players who had not faced Maël, he clearly did not have a clear understanding of Maël's strength.
He quickly lost his balance and uncontrollably slammed into Maël, knocking Maël to the ground.
"Beep!" The referee came up and gave him a yellow card, which made his subsequent defense a bit more difficult.
Maël got up and looked at him with a smile, wanting to say something, but closed his mouth and focused on the game.
"Boom!"
One minute later, he once again grabbed the landing point of a high ball and smashed a header, but it went wide of the goal.
This made him a little depressed. The England team's ground defense was good today, but their high ball defense always gave him opportunities, but he failed to complete a header goal.
In the 65th minute, the pace became faster and faster, and both sides seemed to have some trouble with their offensive organization, and they began to frequently try long shots from the edge of the penalty area.
Gerrard and Ashley Young both fired a shot, and Maël and Benzema also had opportunities, but most of them were blocked by defensive players and failed to threaten the goalkeeper.
"Beep beep!"
England coach Pearce's expression became anxious. In the 71st minute, he replaced the out-of-form Milner and Chamberlain, and replaced them with Walcott and Downing.
His personnel selection definitely had some problems. Fearing the intense competition in the European Cup, he did not dare to use the two substitutes who performed better in the league, but instead used the two players he thought were more durable.
This indirectly led to the England team's weak attack, either in ball control or defense, with few ways to threaten the goal.
On the contrary, the French Team, although they didn't play very well, at least Maël was threatening when he got the ball. It took three or four people to stop him, even if they were careful, careful, and careful again, he still scored a goal.
"Boom!"
In the 78th minute, with little time left in the game, Walcott sent a cross towards the center of the penalty area, tentatively looking for the single forward Welbeck.
Welbeck stepped forward towards the near post, seeking physical contact with Koscielny as he passed him.
At the moment of contact between the two, he suddenly softened his feet and fell to the ground, ignoring the ball above his head, and then rolled painfully in the penalty area, "Ah!!"
Fell down!
"Boom!"
Koscielny jumped up to clear the ball, and after landing, he looked at Welbeck's appearance and the referee running over, and his face immediately turned liver-colored.
He seemed to have foreseen what was about to happen, and kept shaking his hand to indicate that he had absolutely no offside foul.
"Boo!" The England fans and the French Team fans stood up together and booed, expressing their dissatisfaction to the referee.
Maël also quickly ran towards the referee, glanced at the referee's hesitant face, and anxiously ran to Koscielny, demonstrating Welbeck's dive just now to the referee.
"No! Absolutely not!" He shook his head and surrounded the referee. It would be over if a penalty was awarded at this time.
"Beep!!"
The referee seemed to have made up his mind, blew his whistle and walked towards the penalty area.
Maël looked at him nervously, not understanding what he wanted to do, until he saw him raise his hand and point to the penalty spot.
Penalty!
And gave Koscielny a yellow card!
Yellow card and penalty combo!
"Boo!" A group of people immediately surrounded the referee. After the referee had no choice, he directly raised a yellow card and issued another yellow card to Sagna, who was the most excited.
Two yellows! Maël looked at him, rolled his eyes to the sky, and knowing that it was useless to say anything at this moment, he turned around angrily and walked away, waving his right hand towards the sky.
Misjudgments are really damn, VR should come out as soon as possible. Although there will be less fun, there will also be less regret and resentment. The advantages outweigh the disadvantages.
"You pig! Go to hell!"
Deschamps pointed and yelled at the referee from the sidelines, but it wasn't noticeable amidst the noisy jeers of the fans.
Maël pressed his hands down, signaling him to calm down. Nothing could be done at this point, and getting a red card wasn't worth it.
After reaching a position near the center line, he turned to look at Gerrard, who was about to take the penalty, and hoped for a miracle.
"Boo! Boo! Boo!!"
Amidst the boos from the French Team fans, Gerrard placed the ball in front of the penalty spot, facing Lloris's attempts to distract him with movements and words.
He didn't look at Lloris, but turned to stare at the referee, waiting for the whistle.
"Bip!!"
The whistle sounded, Gerrard turned to look at the goal, focused his eyes on the football at his feet, and then began his run-up.
After a few steps, his supporting foot planted firmly beside the football, and his right foot lashed out at the ball to the right.
"Pa-thump!" But at the moment of the shot, his left foot somehow slipped, causing his body to involuntarily fall forward, losing his balance.
It's over! A look of resentment appeared on Gerrard's face. In the instant before falling, he flicked his right wrist, barely managing to push the ball out.
"Yeah!"
After falling, looking at the blue sky and listening to the cheers of the French Team fans, he closed his eyes in pain, vowing never to miss an opportunity because of a slip again in his life.
"Pa!"
In front of the goal, Hugo Lloris noticed Gerrard's fall and knew that the shot would lack quality, so he stood in the center, waiting for the ball to be kicked before diving out to save it, blocking the ball from entering the net.
Saved it! Not in!! Maël immediately felt energized, turning his body towards the Three Lions' backfield, ready to sprint for a counterattack.
But he quickly saw Ashley Young rushing into the penalty area first, poking the ball towards the goal.
Danger again!
"Pa!" Lloris, lying on the ground, bounced up, expanding his defensive area and blocking the football.
Two saves in a row! Maël's eyes lit up again. He was willing to briefly call this future Tottenham goalkeeper a god.
The victory is preserved! He turned and rushed towards the opponent's backfield, pushing the two defending players backward and creating space for a counterattack.
"Aaaahhhh!!" The cheers in the stadium rose to another level. At this moment, two consecutive saves were no less than scoring an equalizing or game-winning goal.
"Thump!"
Koscielny came to the second ball and kicked it towards the frontcourt, completing the clearance, while roaring and pounding his chest, "Come on! Give a penalty! Give another one!"
He turned around, hugged Hugo Lloris, cupped his face in his hands, and kissed him heavily, holding back for a long time before saying, "I heard you're coming to an English team next year, remember, don't go to our arch-rivals!
"I love you! Lloris!"
Koscielny quickly helped Lloris up, turned around, and urged the players in the penalty area to push out, "Charge! Charge! Push out for me!"
"Hugo Lloris saves the French Team! Wonderful save!! Gerrard, a fatal slip!!
"I have a feeling that the shoes on his feet are about to usher in a sales winter!
"A good opportunity for the Three Lions to equalize, but now it's gone! Let's take a look at where the football lands, Maël and Gilbert, who is marking him, are competing for the header! Maël touched the ball, flicking it towards Nasri's position, beautiful!!
"Now it's the French Team's counterattack opportunity, not giving you any time to regret, this is the rhythm of the European Cup!"
"..."
Near the midfield, Nasri stopped the football passed by Maël while running, he kicked the ball towards the vicinity of the penalty area, accelerating with all his strength.
"Thump thump thump!"
Maël also turned around and followed quickly after landing, coming to Nasri's side to support, but Gilbert and Lescott were following him closely, cutting off Nasri's passing line to him.
There was no way around it. They couldn't outrun him, but they could outrun Nasri with the ball. As long as they blocked Nasri, it would be fine.
It didn't matter. He noticed that Clichy in the distance had also followed up. Passing to him was also hopeful! As long as they could score, this would definitely be a classic goal, a classic goal of one thought hell, one thought heaven!
"Thump!"
Nasri sent a curved shot pass, giving it to Clichy in the open space, who volleyed it without stopping the ball, hitting a bouncing ball towards the goal.
"Clang!" The height of the football after bouncing was too high. Although it passed through Joe Hart's hands, it hit the post and bounced back into the penalty area.
Didn't go in!
"Ah!!" Many French Team fans knelt in front of their seats, and Deschamps on the sidelines covered his face. They were so close to sealing the game and winning the England-France battle.
Near the penalty spot, the football slowly landed. Just as the English thought they had escaped, a figure wearing the number 7 French Team jersey rushed in with a keen sense of smell!
There's still a follow-up shot! This time it's Maël's turn!
He stretched his body in the air, making a violent volley, not planning to stop the ball and give the opponent a chance to steal it.
"Bang!!"
After flying up, his right foot fiercely struck the football, sending the ball, which was bouncing out of the penalty area, back towards the goal.
"Thud!" The football hit the ground again, bouncing and flying towards the goal. But this time, the England team didn't have such good luck. The football hit the net solidly, "Swish!!"
Goal!
Two to zero! The French Team seals the game! Right after the penalty!!
"Wowwww!!"
"Yeah!!"
"Ma-ehl!!"
A thunderous roar erupted in the Warsaw National Stadium. The most exciting moment of this European Cup has arrived. The French Team, after almost being tied by their opponents, turned around and sealed the game!
Maël and Hugo Lloris worked together to help the French Team through a miraculous 20 seconds! "Come on!" Maël grinned and patted his chest, then tore off his jersey and threw it aside.
He rushed to the edge of the field at top speed and kicked the corner flag with a violent flying kick, scaring the linesman to stay far away.
After landing, he jumped up again, reaching a height that ordinary people could not reach, and threw a rising dragon punch, roaring passionately: "Vamos!!"
If someone asks him in the future how to summarize his European Cup debut, he will laugh and tell them the story of this goal.
Misjudgment, miraculous save, crossbar, volley, slaying the Three Lions!!
-----------
This high quality machine translation is powered by: https:// randomtranslator.com/
To read the full translation, as well as more than 444+ fanfic and original translations or request new translations, check out: https:// randomtranslator.com/
You can also join the RandomTranslator community on Discord to connect with other readers: https:// discord.gg/NSWvfN7vua
-----------