Chapter 776: Who Wouldn’t Be Nervous When You Frown?
In the medical room at Camp Nou, all the players lined up, waiting for Chen Yu’s physical examination.
“Lionel Messi!”
Looking at the nervous young kid standing before him, Chen Yu called out his name.
His nickname was The Flea.
Of course, it wasn’t entirely because he was short.
It was mainly because when he was a child, people called him Pulga, which is the Spanish word for flea.
Combine that with his short stature, and that’s how he got the nickname.
“Hello, sir.”
Messi greeted him nervously.
“Lie down.” Chen Yu pointed to the massage table beside them, gesturing for him to lie down for the examination.
Chen Yu also had all the players’ medical records in his hands.
As the Eye of All-Seeing scanned Messi’s body, Chen Yu asked, “By the way, are you satisfied with your current height? I heard from Frank that you play forward?”
Because of his “Flea” nickname, Chen Yu had chatted a bit more with Rijkaard and learned about the kid’s situation.
He actually had dwarfism, or to be more precise, a growth hormone deficiency.
Dwarfism can be caused by many things, like achondroplasia or premature epiphyseal fusion, but a growth hormone deficiency is an endocrine issue.
That’s why at age 11, after reaching a height of 1.32 meters, he stopped growing.
He only reached his current height by taking growth hormone injections.
You could say he was lucky to have been born at the right time.
Growth hormone, or HGH, was discovered by scientists in the early 20th century, but it wasn’t used in medical treatments until the mid-20th century.
The reason for this was that there was only one way to obtain it at the time: by extracting it from the pituitary glands of deceased individuals.
It took thousands of cadavers to extract just a few drops of growth hormone.
The cost was exorbitant; ordinary people simply couldn’t afford it.
Furthermore, it was later discovered that injecting this “stuff” could cause unexplained muscular atrophy, Alzheimer’s disease, and eventually, death.
It was speculated that the extract contained some unknown virus.
After all, it came from dead bodies.
In the 1960s, the United States FDA halted all related extraction.
Only with the advancement of biotechnology did the idea of artificially synthesizing it come back into consideration.
Messi also had Eli Lilly to thank. In 1986, the year before Messi was born, Eli Lilly finally synthesized artificial HGH and immediately began to market it.
If Eli Lilly hadn’t developed it, Messi might have remained 1.32 meters tall for his entire life.
But that was a chemical method of heightening. If Messi was unsatisfied with his height, Chen Yu also had a physical method to offer.
Just like with Oden, it involved breaking the bones and relying on the healing process to increase height.
Messi froze for a moment, then hastily said, “Sir, I’m satisfied! My idol is Mr. Diego Maradona.”
Chen Yu figured as much.
After all, Old Ma wasn’t tall either.
Seeing Messi looking at him nervously, with an expression like he could be dragged off for research at any moment, Chen Yu laughed. “Don’t be nervous, I was just joking with you.”
A height of 1.7 meters would be a death sentence in the basketball world, but in the world of soccer, it was more than enough.
Chen Yu was just making a casual joke.
Messi nodded blankly. Only after Chen Yu signaled that he was finished did he quickly get up, bow to Chen Yu in thanks, and leave the examination room.
“Next.”
A Bar?a team doctor yelled to the outside.
Edmilson walked in.
He lay down on the table like he’d done it a thousand times, casually chatting with Chen Yu about how they should celebrate that night.
Chen Yu responded noncommittally as he began the physical examination.
Beside them, the head of Bar?a’s medical team, Jordi Alderwall, watched Chen Yu’s movements, mesmerized. He was trying to analyze how Chen Yu could determine a player’s physical injuries just through a physical examination.
He’d heard that the miracle doctor from Germany, Wolffat, also had an extraordinary physical examination technique, able to determine a player’s muscle injuries simply by touch.
Therefore, he believed it was a god-like, top-tier medical skill, not some mysterious, esoteric art.
“Chen, what’s wrong?”
Edmilson had been chatting happily, but when he saw Chen Yu’s brow furrow and the smile disappear from his face, his heart suddenly dropped, and his expression changed in an instant.
Chen Yu’s hand had stopped on Edmilson’s right knee.
“Chen, don’t scare me. Don’t tell me it’s the knee.”
Edmilson instantly panicked, his voice trembling with a hint of fear.
Nearby, Jordi Alderwall was also snapped back to reality, his face changing drastically.
“Don’t be nervous.”
Chen Yu said reassuringly.
Edmilson was on the verge of tears. He wanted to stay calm, but who could when Chen Yu frowned like that?
“Relax, I’m here. Your knee has some issues, but it’s nothing major. After all, you injured it once last season.”
After transferring from Lyon to Bar?a, Edmilson suffered a major knee injury in his first season and was out for six months straight.
“Chen, are you sure it’s not a major problem?” Edmilson was still extremely nervous.
Chen Yu nodded, then said to Jordi, “Go arrange for an MRI.”
Edmilson was about to have a complete breakdown.
‘You’re already arranging an MRI, and you’re telling me it’s not a major problem?!’
Chen Yu stood up, preparing to go tell Rijkaard what would surely be sky-is-falling-level bad news for him.
Seeing Chen Yu about to leave, Edmilson scrambled to his feet and grabbed his wrist.
“Chen, I’m not going to miss the World Cup, am I?”
His eyes were filled with terror.
After the failure in ’02, he knew Ronaldo had been training relentlessly, aiming to make a run at this year’s World Cup.
And this year’s World Cup was also his best chance.