"Ouf!"
On the coach's bench, Didier Deschamps's lips curved into a wide grin as he raised his arms, almost getting knocked over by the excited coaching staff.
"Semi-finals! Deschamps! Semi-finals!" Someone grabbed his arm, adding to his joy. "We're in the semi-finals with Germany, Portugal, and Spain!"
"It's unbelievable! I feel like I'm dreaming! Who would have thought that after so many disappointing major tournaments, we could be at the top with them!"
"Ohhhh!" Someone roared as they rushed up and lifted Deschamps off the ground, making the Basque's red face even redder.
After being put down, he seemed to want to vent as well, turning to the stands and throwing a few farmer punches. "OhOhYeah!!"
He shouted out the pressure he had been holding in, as well as his desire for glory and the ultimate championship!
They didn't want to return to France after this tournament to the sound of fans' scolding and disappointed faces; instead, they wanted to walk proudly under the Arc de Triomphe, waving to the cheering fans!
"Maël!"
Deschamps looked at Maël, who was celebrating near the corner flag, his eyes filled with love.
He didn't hide it, openly displaying this expression to the cameras, while excitedly saying, "Six goals! He can definitely do more, right?!"
"Definitely!" Someone clenched their fist in excitement. "He could break the European Cup's single-tournament goal record and the all-time goal record."
"Mr. Platini holds both records; he scored nine goals in a single tournament, which is also the highest cumulative total."
"Four more goals..." Deschamps smiled slightly, as confident as ever. "I believe he can do it; he always does better than others.
"Look, some people might not score a single wonder goal in their entire career, and he scores one almost every game."
Deschamps was already thinking that at the upcoming press conference, he would enthusiastically praise Maël to the reporters, expressing his admiration and love for the player to fans around the world.
Maël had truly appeared in his world like an angel, and like a lucky star, he had allowed the French Team, which still needed to wait for its golden generation, to bloom ahead of time.
In the stands, in the VIP area.
"Clap clap clap!"
Mr. Wenger and Hollande smiled and applauded as they stood up, both looking proud. Van Persie, Arshavin, Rosický, and others also smiled and embraced.
"That goal was fantastic!"
"An unexpected way to kill the game! He is the pride of our Arsenal!"
"Although we fell, seeing a teammate reach the European Cup semi-finals is something to look forward to. I'm ready to prepare a celebration for Maël before the next season starts."
"Haha...!"
Compared to them, Michel, who was not far away, was even more conspicuous.
Although he didn't stand up immediately, he suddenly jumped up after realizing what had happened, shouting, "Dieu! Mondieu! Est beau!"
This startled Hollande and many dignitaries, and then everyone looked at him with strange smiles, finding his appearance very amusing.
As a meticulous economic expert, Michel was usually very serious. Except for dancing with his teacher, he rarely showed such passionate emotions.
"Excellent! Truly excellent!"
Michel didn't care about their gazes, immersing himself in the passion and joy that football brought him.
After a long time, he turned around and proactively asked Mr. Wenger, "Mr. Wenger, I haven't had time to watch football for a long time, and I've only seriously watched a few games in this European Cup.
"Do you think God gave him this unique football talent, or is it related to his own efforts?"
This was a difficult question to answer. Mr. Wenger raised his eyebrows and pondered for a long time before replying, "I think it's both. Maybe he had the potential to reach this height, but what really pushed him to this point was himself.
"He insists on extra training after completing the regular training every day, putting in 4-6 hours more than others day after day, which allows him to achieve the training results that others take 3-4 years to achieve in just one year.
"And he has maintained this kind of training for two consecutive years, which means that without considering other factors, between the ages of 17 and 19, he has accumulated 6-8 years of results."
Seeing Michel nod, he became more and more excited, as if showing off his precious treasure to others. "This is the fundamental reason why he seems to be improving so quickly, the primary driving force.
"He has very vigorous energy and a monstrous body." Of course, maybe it wasn't like that at first, but he kept working hard, constantly optimizing, and finally making himself perfect."
Michel kept nodding, and after listening, he frowned in surprise and proposed a point of view, "Can I understand it this way: he is an unparalleled genius, but his efforts allowed him to realize his talent before he was 19 years old.
"Realizing talent may not be appropriate... I mean, can we regard the 19-year-old him as a complete genius of about 26-27 years old."
"Just like Portugal's Ronaldo and Argentina's Messi, he's now on par with those two in their prime."
Mr. Wenger frowned with a smile after hearing this, feeling the statement was inappropriate but unsure how to express it, so he simply said, "You could say that. He's very mature and has reached a very high level."
"What about the future?"
Michel asked the question he most wanted to ask, "Is he going to be fixed like this? This isn't belittling the player, it's just that we were just discussing how the player is like a complete genius, as if he's reached his peak ahead of schedule."
He smiled in amazement, "There are other reasons, I really can't imagine what kind of player he'll become if he continues to improve like this.
"People can't imagine things beyond their understanding, so..."
He spread his hands, his final explanation to avoid Mr. Wenger misunderstanding his meaning.
Mr. Wenger leaned forward slightly, as if he found this a topic worth discussing. He thought for a moment and said, "I don't think he will, but like you, I really can't imagine how he'll develop.
"Perhaps we can find common ground with Messi and Ronaldo and extend our imagination as much as possible. Before they emerged, no one believed that a striker could maintain 40+ or even 50+ goals in a single season.
"But now people seem to be used to it and think that top strikers should be like that."
He also spread his hands, but to express his confusion, "Maybe when Maël can score more goals, people will first express amazement, then slowly get used to it, and finally become completely numb.
"At that time, some interesting things might happen, such as a league silver boot with 40 or 50 goals, or the powerlessness when other players are compared to Maël.
"A coach tells young players that you must score 60 goals in the youth league, your goal is Maël, and then the child will be confused."
Mr. Wenger's expression became wonderful as he said this, he was clearly imagining that scene, "Haha... that's really interesting."
"Haha..." Michel and Hollande, along with the others, smiled. They then heard Mr. Wenger continue, "But that's too far off. Let's hope he surpasses Messi first.
"The Argentine striker scored 70+ goals last season and had 100+ goal involvements.
"Especially in the natural year of 2012, his form has clearly increased. People think he has a chance to score 100 goals this year, leaving a record that is difficult for future generations to reach.
"Maël's primary goal is to catch up with him." Mr. Wenger's face showed anticipation as he said this, "The world of football is becoming more and more exciting. It's been a long time since there's been such a free-for-all.
"The competitiveness brought about by this three-way battle, and the excitement brought about by the competition, will attract people to love football even more."
Michel nodded in agreement after listening. In fact, after understanding Messi's data, he felt that Maël might still have a short distance to go.
But at most, it should be 100 goals in a year, or 100 goals in a single season, right?
Any higher than that should be beyond the realm of what humans can do.
"Alright." Michel also stood up to applaud Maël and the French Team. He concluded, "No matter what the future holds, all I know is that we have the potential to stand at the top of Europe again with him.
"And this won't be the end. I believe he will lead us to stand at the top of the world.
"I'm waiting for that day. After the game, I'll go find him. I want to give him a hug and a promise."
Hollande glanced at him sideways at this moment. As an experienced player, he understood the reason why Michel liked Maël so much, because he saw someone similar to himself.
Energetic, constantly striving upwards, extremely ambitious... He had some thoughts of guarding against Michel, even though this person was promoted by him. But from the bottom of his heart, he and the other party were not in tune on certain points.
"Beep!"
The game restarted, and time ticked away towards the moment the referee blew the final whistle.
Everyone couldn't sit still and watched the game standing, ready to celebrate again after the game.
In the German Team's box, people were also chattering, many with worried expressions, obviously concerned about the upcoming impact from Maël.
"I think the Italian Team at least provided an idea, which is to give him physical confrontation when he shoots, and try our best to interfere with him."
"That's right! No matter how good a shooter is, if his supporting foot isn't stable, he won't be able to make a high-quality shot."
"What about the referee factor?"
"Don't worry about the refereeing standards. Maël can't get more than 6 chances in a game. If we can limit him to death and advance to the final, it's worth it even if we get 6 yellow cards."
"What else? The Italian Team did this today, and Maël still had 1 goal and 1 assist. That's the scariest thing."
"."
The discussion stopped there. Hummels, Khedira, Müller, and others who had been talking eloquently all fell silent.
Löw was writing something in his notebook, but he also stopped at this moment, seemingly thinking of countermeasures.
Whenever he thought about something, his hands couldn't stay still. His right hand dug into his nostril again, and after digging, he gnawed on his fingernails.
Matthäus watched him like this from the side and felt an inexplicable fire in his heart. As the coach of the Germany team, Löw's work ability was good, but his image had always been questioned by fans.
The Football Association had communicated with him many times, asking him to pay attention, but he couldn't help but often stand on the sidelines picking his nose.
"I still think it's the midfield."
Löw got up at this time and pointed to the tactical board, apparently having an idea, "You just said that he can't get more than 6 chances, so let's reduce his chances.
"If we let him only get 2-3 shots on goal, and only have 1 excellent chance or none at all, we are very likely to limit him.
"I will convey the specific tactical arrangements to you in training, relax."
His eyes turned left and right, looking for something, and after seeing one person, he pointed at him and said, "Boateng, I will put you at right back at that time, marking him closely.
"Remember, he is a top striker, and you are also a top defender, you can do it, defend Maël like Cambiasso defended Messi."
Boateng's body trembled slightly, and he slowly straightened his back. Yes, he is also a top defender.
"In short, the core analysis of the French Team is on Maël. Let's brainstorm and prepare well in the next few days."
Löw clapped his hands and looked in the direction of the Warsaw National Stadium, "We must know that the final is waiting for us in that direction, and the glory of the German tank depends on us!"
...
On the field, the stoppage time board was raised, with 2 minutes of stoppage time in the second half.
"Quick, quick, quick!!"
Prandelli waved anxiously on the sidelines, signaling the players to press forward and attack.
Knowing the importance of the European Cup, the Italy team did not give up this last hope. They kept crossing into the French Team's penalty area, launching a bombardment.
All 10 players of the French Team returned to their own penalty area to conduct a dense defense.
"Boom!"
Maël jumped up and headed Pirlo's long pass out of the penalty area. His expression was full of excitement. He could feel that the semi-finals were getting closer and closer to them.
"Everyone in!"
"Everyone! Everyone!"
Pirlo shouted anxiously outside the penalty area, waving his hand to signal everyone to rush into the penalty area. He was going to cross a few more times to try.
"Boom!"
"Boom!"
After another few waves of attacks, the game came to the final moment. Every player on the Italy team knew that they had no hope of pulling back two goals in such a short period of time.
Many people had tears in their eyes, and many others had despair on their faces.
But a force still supported them, carrying out the final charge. They had to do their best, only in this way could they be worthy of themselves.
"Boom!"
In the 92nd minute of the game, Pirlo's long pass was lobbed to the back post. Cassano rushed past Sagna and headed towards the football that was slipping towards the baseline.
Realizing that the football was about to lose control, he ran two steps with all his strength, and then burst out all his power to slide and kick, trying to shovel the football into the penalty area.
But he failed, and the football still rolled out of the baseline. The French Team got a goal kick.
"Beep! Beep! Beep——!"
Immediately afterwards, just as Cassano rolled over and knelt, preparing to get up, the referee blew three long whistles, announcing the end of the game! "Yeahhh!" In the waving hands of the French Team fans, all the players of the French Team jumped up from the spot, then spread their hands and rushed to the center circle to celebrate.
From Cassano's perspective at this time, he could see countless Italian players standing in place with their hands on their hips unwillingly, and even more kneeling and pounding the lawn.
A surge of sourness rushed into his eyes, causing him to kneel forward involuntarily, like a walking corpse.
"The game is over! The French Team defeated the Italy team with goals from Maël and Nasri! They have won the last spot in the final 4!"
He Wei's poetic voice rang out in the commentary booth. He looked at the polarized scene on the field and felt a lot of emotions, "Congratulations to the French Team! They can slide and kneel to celebrate on the field as much as they want. Gdańsk is their carnival at this moment!
"Maël led this team out of the group stage as captain, and after the turmoil, he led them to sweep away the decline and enter the final 4! "They are only two steps away from the final championship throne!! I believe they are ready to compete for the championship! "At the same time, we must also say goodbye to the Italy team. They qualified from the most deadly group and also drew with the European Cup World Cup double champion Spain! "In the past 3 games, their exquisite cooperation and steel defense have given people the feeling of being invincible countless times!
"But Maël, who stands out from the crowd and has played countless personal highlights in this competition, still tore a hole from them and eliminated them!
"I think the players of the Italy team are helpless. There are many players among them who shine with the light of superstars.
"But when they gathered their light together, they thought they could illuminate everything, but they found that a genius who grew up in Aix, Maël, alone burst out with more dazzling light than them!
"Maël is too dazzling! He is terrifying, truly invincible; he is also outstanding, accustomed to being the victor!!"
"Farewell, Azzurri! Farewell, Bonucci and Chiellini! Farewell, young Balotelli! Farewell, maestro Pirlo!"
...
On the field, amidst cheers and applause, the French Team players gradually approached Maël, seemingly wanting to celebrate this moment of victory with their captain.
Maël didn't run towards the center circle with the others from the start; as a forward, he was more accustomed to celebrating in the corner flag area.
"Oh! Oh!!"
He raised his arms and shouted several times, then spread his arms wide to embrace the wind and sunshine of the Gdańsk Stadium, passionately sliding on his knees.
"Aaahhh!!"
As he slid to the corner flag area, he roared one last time, shaking his arms, then twisted his body, sliding towards the field, his whole body falling to the grass, his head lowered.
He was thoroughly enjoying this moment; he wanted to truly immerse himself in it, savoring it under the exhilarating gaze of the fans! "Whoa...! Maël is like a mech, having exhausted all its fuel after completing its mission!!"
"He has dedicated everything to the green field! Dedicated to the fans who deeply love him!!"
"What is he thinking? Anyway, I'm reminded of a lyric... a wildflower dreamed a rose-like dream!!" "However, how could he be a wildflower?! He is elegant, calm lavender, a laurel symbolizing honor, and also a snow lotus representing pride and tenacity!"
"Bless him, for completing another important achievement on a new field!!"
...
The French Team players came to Maël's side, and many people wearing substitute vests also came over, along with some photographers who came close to take pictures, making the area extremely crowded.
People couldn't hear what they were exclaiming, only the phrase "Vamos!!" was heard from time to time.
"French Team defeats Italy! Advances to the European Cup semi-finals!!" - Global social media headlines
Soon after, Deschamps sat in the press conference room. The reporters hadn't even asked any questions yet, they had only greeted him, and he was already talking non-stop.
It was a classic example of a normal attack leading to a big move; he couldn't control his emotions.
"If someone asks me who the best player in active service is, I will answer Maël; if someone asks me who the best player in history is, I will also answer Maël."
He started with exaggerated statements, knowing that most fans wouldn't take it too seriously; he was just expressing his love, "He is a super phenomenal TOP1, the most ridiculously data-filled demon king in history!" "He will become a legend, he definitely will, because he started at his peak, he is already recorded in history!
"Who would have thought that he would score 6 goals in 4 European Cup games? Platini is the pride and legend of France Football, but I want to say that Maël has the potential to equal or break his record.
"3-4 goals in 2 games, it's not impossible for him, is it?"
Deschamps laughed and started talking about himself, "Meeting him is a blessing in my coaching career. He not only strengthened my confidence in taking over as the French Team coach, but also helped me complete a good debut in a major tournament.
"There's nothing better than this. You know, reaching the European Cup semi-finals in my first time leading the team, even if we can't go any further, the fans will be satisfied with me and Maël, and will have expectations.
"But of course, we must go further. Saying this is just to express that the team is now single-minded and doesn't need to consider public opinion or pressure anymore, just focus on attacking for glory."
He was right. The French Team, having already reached the semi-finals, had indeed eliminated most of the pressure. They were fighting for glory only!
"Isn't this a bit too much praise for the player? Over the top?" A reporter asked a provocative question.
Deschamps wasn't angry and smiled, "Maël's admirer? If there was such a position, I think I would be the first to apply.
"But I don't think I would succeed, because there are too many applicants, I might have to face competition from Wenger, Mancini, Ferguson, and others."
"Hahaha!" A burst of laughter erupted at the scene. Deschamps answered cleverly, without making the atmosphere tense. It was like a press conference after a win.
At the same time, in front of a billboard inside the stadium, a group of reporters surrounded Maël, the player holding the man-of-the-match trophy in his hand.
"We noticed that you smiled when you completed the volley, which is rare. Can you tell us why?" A reporter asked.
Maël smiled and shrugged, not expecting them to observe so carefully, "Because I enjoy it. I do what I love every day, tens of thousands of people cheer for me, and I often taste the joy of victory.
"This feeling is very good, which is why I smile."
He was in a good mood and talked more, "And when I lose, even if I may be very unhappy, I will try to accept everything with a smile, and enjoy every minute on this field.
"It's like surfing. Sometimes you get knocked down by the waves, but you know you can always get back on track, find the right wave, and then return to your rhythm and succeed.
"Life is the same. Sometimes it goes smoothly, sometimes it doesn't, but as long as you never give up, you will succeed."
After speaking, he saw a familiar face waving to him in the distance. It was Michel, the 'Raging Celestial Michel' of France in the later World Cup.
He knew what the other party wanted to say to him, so he ended the interview and raised the trophy, giving the reporters a smile, "I'm really happy, please take more pictures of me smiling and put them online, I will watch them."
After arriving next to Michel, Maël was about to embrace him when he heard Michel introduce himself first, "You may not know me, I am the newly appointed Deputy Secretary-General of the Presidential Palace.
"Actually, we had a chance to meet earlier, I almost participated in the acquisition of ins."
Maël then realized that he and Michel were 'unacquainted,' and he almost took the initiative to greet him.
He quickly nodded, feigning surprise, and then embraced Michel, "Nice to meet you, it's a pleasant day, I hope it is for you too."
"Of course." After Michel separated from Maël, he expressed what he wanted to say in the shortest possible language, "You and I may be the same kind of people, wanting to do everything the best, and also extremely ambitious.
"I hope you can lead the French Team to win the long-awaited World Cup trophy. That day, if I have the status and the qualifications, I will personally award you the Legion of Honor."
"Haha.!" Maël gave Michel a high-five, looking at Michel's handsome and young face, and had a lot of expectations for this matter, "I will wait for you, and you have to wait for me."
"Okay."
After Michel finished speaking, he prepared to leave. Before he left, he patted Maël on the shoulder, "Come on, I will watch every minute of the next 2 games, I hope you lift the trophy at the Poland National Stadium."
"We will." Maël also patted him, promising, "That day, I will lend you my medal to play with."
Michel stepped onto the elevator and pointed at Maël, "I'm very interested, really."
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