Chapter 2332 - 592: The Italian Tradition of Picking Sides
The towering Piqué looked like some clumsy bear in front of Robben, while Robben casually pulled the ball onto his left foot right under the noses of the Spanish defenders.
Then he gently curled it away with the inside of his foot.
Bang—
The ball skimmed quickly over the turf, Casillas’s view was blocked but his reaction was still sharp, he went down sideways at once, yet at such close range that tiny bit of reaction time he lacked could only end in regret, the ball slipped in under his ribs and into the net.
Boom—
The former Real Madrid man scores against the goal guarded by the Real Madrid keeper.
The same drama plays out once again.
Robben spread his arms wide as if to embrace the world, sticking out his tongue in a slightly comical way, but to the Spanish fans it felt like they were the real clowns here.
The invincible armada and the men-of-the-sea meet head‑on in a narrow strait.
The Dutch used their quick, efficient counterattacks to shatter the pride of the Spaniards.
Cocu, Inzaghi and the subs all rushed to the touchline to celebrate like mad.
While that head coach still stood on the sideline with his hands in his pockets.
The rush of excitement had already passed.
Pose‑striking Huang Kaiwen was wondering how much his sponsorship fees would go up after winning the title today.
If those sponsors still dared to drag their feet in negotiations.
𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖
Then after the Olympics he’d let them know what "price changes daily" really means.
Back in the Netherlands, Van Marwijk was sitting in his yard watching TV, even more fired up than the players.
As for Huang Kaiwen and the Netherlands team making the final.
He honestly didn’t envy them at all.
The veteran coach had a very clear idea of his own ability.
His Netherlands team had already collapsed before, and the signs were actually there as early as the European qualifiers.
"Stepping down due to illness" was already the most dignified ending he could have.
Now seeing the Netherlands team virtually having the title locked up, he was excited but also felt a bit ashamed.
No matter how you spin it, the way he left wasn’t exactly glorious.
But then he thought: if he hadn’t left, Huang Kaiwen wouldn’t have been able to take over the Netherlands team at the last minute.
Or if he’d left a bit earlier, the Dutch Football Association would’ve gone and hired another Dutch coach.
In a certain sense, he had still contributed enough to this Netherlands team.
By waiting until the European Cup started to leave, he left the Dutch Football Association no time to find anyone else, which is why Huang Kaiwen is doing what he’s doing now.
Thinking of it that way, he felt a lot better.
He raised his Budweiser, took a big swig and burst out laughing.
"Bosque is telling Pedro to get up and warm up, looks like he’s going to push the attack even more."
"Can’t be helped, two goals down, at this point you’ve got to find a way to level the score."
"Pedro’s coordination with the Barca players is a lot more fluid, that’s definitely an advantage, but Iniesta’s absence today is a huge factor too, Spain are playing in a way that feels a bit unfamiliar to the fans."
[MSI] bar.
"Fuck, in front of that bastard Huang Kaiwen, Iniesta is just a little Kara."
"You can’t compare like that, up against that bastard Huang Kaiwen, Ronaldo’s nothing too. But Iniesta really is one of Spain’s strongest players in terms of dribbling and penetration, without him Spain’s threat drops a lot."
"Personally I feel David Silva’s pretty damn good, he just doesn’t have much chemistry with the Barca lads."
"Of course, Barca has its own system, look at Bojan, he was once called the New Messi, then went to Rome and couldn’t even get into Roma’s starting XI."
"I used to think Kuyt wasn’t that good, but after watching this European Cup I feel this bastard is fucking insane, Huang Kaiwen has had Kuyt play how many different positions now."
"What’s more ridiculous is Kuyt switches several positions in one match and slots in seamlessly each time, shows his awareness is excellent, it’s just his technique that’s a bit lacking."
"Depends who you compare him with, sure he’s a bit worse than van Persie, but Kuyt’s scored plenty too, he once got a hat trick against Manchester United, and the crazy thing is the combined distance of those three goals from the goal line wasn’t even five meters—tell me that’s not some next‑level goal‑poaching."
"In the end it’s still that Huang Kaiwen’s got the touch. Kuyt went on record in interviews asking for a forward role, and under Huang Kaiwen he’s nowhere near the opposition penalty area, can’t play up front at all, and he hasn’t complained once."
"That bastard Huang Kaiwen’s status in world football is right there for everyone to see, the only thing guys like Cruyff have on him is being older."
Not counting stoppage time.
There were still 24 minutes left to play.
That was the distance between the Netherlands team and the Deloitte Cup.
Right after the goal and the celebrations, Huang Kaiwen immediately clapped his hands on the sideline and reminded them: "All of you, stay the fuck switched on and hang in there. You can’t relax for a second now, play it like we’re drawing, keep those nerves tight as hell, don’t you fuckers dare repeat what happened two years ago, almost throwing away the Hercules Cup!"
"Hey, I’m talking about you! The guy who blew the one‑on‑one."
van Persie curled his lips and said.
Robben’s eyes went wide.
Fuck, you son of a bitch!
He really wanted to raise his right hand and shout "Bring me the stick!" then smash van Persie’s dog head in with one brutal swing.
Sneijder was snickering on the side.
The European Cup is almost over, soon they can go back to being the Netherlands team everyone knows.
Whether it’s van Persie or Robben taking a hit, he’d be happy to see it.
Best‑case scenario, Robben cuts van Persie down and then gets himself sent off too.
Then, under Huang Kaiwen’s coaching, he’ll go on to win the World Cup two years from now and take home the first Ballon d’Or of his career.
"Tsk tsk."
Guti clicked his tongue, making teasing noises.
He just couldn’t understand why Raul was still worrying about the National Team.
"If the media catch you like this, it’ll be hard to explain."
Raul muttered softly.
"He didn’t actually say anything though." Morientes, sitting next to Raul, chimed in.
"Yeah, I didn’t say anything."
Guti pointed at the pitch and said, "I told you before Kevin was definitely going to win, and what did you guys say?"