Sports Medicine Master System

Staring at the television, Chen Yu’s fists clenched unconsciously. ’Calm down,’ he told himself.

At this moment, Chen Yu was watching a live broadcast of the Champions League on ESPN’s premium satellite channel.

The match was taking place at Veltins-Arena, the home stadium of Germany’s Schalke 04, and was now nearing its end.

But Real Madrid was trailing 1-2.

In the quarterfinals, a goal from Ronaldo had allowed Real Madrid to snatch a last-gasp victory against Monaco.

In the semifinals, it was Ronaldo again who scored twice, knocking out the Premier League’s new powerhouse, Chelsea.

Now, in the final, Real Madrid’s problems still persisted.

The defensive line was a complete mess. The midfield was star-studded, yet they could never seem to string together proper plays.

It was hard to say whether it was due to a lack of options or a lack of skill, but Queiroz hadn’t made any major adjustments.

Fortunately, he was still sticking to the magic formula from their last two victories: control the midfield, then send long passes to Ronaldo and rely on his individual brilliance to win the battle.

Unfortunately, Porto was no pushover.

Porto, the dark horse that had made it all the way, hadn’t done so purely on luck.

Under Mourinho’s coaching, Porto was tactically superb. From the very start of the match, they had massed their forces in front of the goal, parking the bus.

And Real Madrid just couldn’t break through that defensive line.

But Porto didn’t just park the bus; their counterattacks were also incredibly sharp.

Their transition from defense to offense, their ability to seize opportunities in an instant, and the quality of their coordination far surpassed Real Madrid’s.

So, 27 minutes into the first half, Porto was the first to score.

It wasn’t until the 53rd minute of the second half that Ronaldo was brought down just outside the box, earning a free kick in a prime position.

Ronaldo and Beckham worked a play, and a stunning shot, a classic Beckham’s Arc, leveled the score.

Unfortunately, just 14 minutes later, Deco provided an assist. The 20-year-old Alberto, with his elusive off-the-ball movement, suddenly broke free and unleashed an abrupt shot, making it 2-1.

Real Madrid was once again on the edge of a cliff.

What followed was a frantic offensive from Real Madrid.

Ronaldo was getting truly desperate, repeatedly dropping back to receive the ball, only to be brought down in a tangle of players time and again.

The referee rushed over again and blew his whistle.

Costa, who had brought Ronaldo down, was jabbering nonstop at the rising Ronaldo.

Ronaldo finally lost his patience and squared up to him.

All game long, Costa had been provoking him. His fouls were rough, he was full of dirty little tricks, and his mouth never stopped running, constantly taunting Ronaldo with sarcastic remarks and all sorts of jeers.

Ronaldo usually had a good temper and was never one to start trouble on the pitch.

But in that moment, with his team losing, his composure finally started to crack.

Fortunately, he only retorted with a few words and didn’t get physical.

Nearby teammates quickly stepped in to separate the two.

"Who are you trying to scare? Go on, hit me if you’ve got the guts! You coward! Hurry up and run home to cry! You don’t deserve the Champions League trophy, just like at the World Cup," Costa yelled, pointing at Ronaldo from a distance as his teammates pulled him away.

The mention of the World Cup made Ronaldo’s eyes turn red, and he was so furious he tried to charge at him.

The camera focused on Costa. Seeing the referee turn to look at him and start walking in his direction, he immediately shut his mouth.

He was already on a yellow card.

In front of the TV, Chen Yu sighed silently.

From Costa’s reaction, Chen Yu could tell he was doing it on purpose—provoking Ronaldo, combining it with aggressive fouls to break his composure.

’This kind of behavior is very common on the field. Having a stable, good mentality, not falling for the trap, and staying calm are all qualities an outstanding athlete should possess.’

’But that’s easier said than done. How many can actually do it?’

’When your opponent is constantly in your ear insulting your parents, few can remain calm and choose to answer with their performance.’

’But when you’re a star player, the core of the team, you have to endure this kind of treatment. For Ronaldo, this is also a test.’

Chen Yu let out a soft sigh. ’This must be Mourinho’s doing.’

’That man has a flamboyant, arrogant personality, and his football philosophy is incredibly aggressive. He’ll do anything to win.’

’He knows Real Madrid’s defense has been a sieve all season, the midfield is riddled with problems, and they’ve made it this far relying entirely on Ronaldo’s performance.’

’So, deliberately targeting Ronaldo on the pitch is definitely the best strategy.’

’He’s still got some principles, just messing with your mentality. A more ruthless coach might have just chosen to injure him.’

’Come on.’

’There are still 17 minutes left in the match. Including stoppage time, that’s just over twenty minutes. Now is the time to be calm.’

The clock ticked by, second by second, and Real Madrid was still on the attack.

Seeing that time was running out, Queiroz reluctantly made a tactical change.

Figo was substituted off for Guti.

But it had little effect. Real Madrid’s biggest problem now was their inability to break through Porto’s parked bus.

Moreover, Real Madrid didn’t dare push too far forward. Porto’s counterattacks were incredibly sharp; their go-ahead goal in the second half had come from a counter.

But this hesitation, this looking over their shoulder, played right into Mourinho’s hands.

’If it were up to me,’ Chen Yu thought, ’at this stage of a do-or-die match, you have to level the score first and worry about the rest later. Even your goalkeeper should be charging forward.’

A cannonball shot from Carlos was blocked by a Porto player who threw his body in the way as if to block a bullet.

Chen Yu was silently growing anxious. It was clear that Real Madrid had tried many tactics to break the packed defense.

Long shots, pulling the defense wide, headers—it felt like they had tried everything they could.

These players on the pitch were all top-tier stars. They had seen it all, and they were still capable of executing such plays.

But breaking down a parked bus is a world-class problem in soccer. And Porto’s bus—perfectly synchronized, quick to close down space, and practiced countless times—stubbornly refused to make a single mistake.

That was no easy feat, and it was the foundation of their confidence as the tournament’s dark horse.

If there were more time, they could have slowly worn them down and waited for Porto to make a mistake.

But time was almost up.

On the sideline, the official had already raised the board: 5 minutes of stoppage time.

’Feels like the ref is favoring Real Madrid a bit.’

Chen Yu sighed, got up, and turned off the television.

He couldn’t bear to watch the final result.

The entire Real Madrid team had come to the United States yesterday, and Chen Yu could sense how desperately Ronaldo wanted to win the Champions League trophy.

It was as if this was the last chance of his life.

With that kind of mentality, a loss would be an enormous blow.

But the ball is round, and anything can happen. You could only say that this year’s Porto looked more like a championship team.

"I’m heading out."

After taking care of some work, Chen Yu said goodbye to Lexi and left, preparing to head to the arena.

It was already late at night in Europe, but only afternoon here in Phoenix. Besides the Champions League final, there was another event today: the NBA Draft Lottery.

The Phoenix Suns didn’t have a first-round pick this year, but that didn’t stop him from paying attention to the other teams’ draft positions.

There were a few rookies in this year’s draft that the Suns were still hoping to get.

He got on the road, and the drive was smooth. But just as he was about to reach the US Airways Center, his phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at the screen. Surprisingly, it was Ronaldo calling.

Chen Yu found it a bit strange. ’He lost, he must be feeling terrible right now. How could he be in the mood to call me?’

While waiting at a red light, he pressed the speakerphone button.

The phone suddenly seemed to blast at full volume. It was a chaotic mess of noise, like a crowd of people shouting, a jumble of all sorts of sounds.

And then he heard Ronaldo.

"We won, Chen, we won!"

He was screaming into the phone at the top of his lungs.

’We won?’

Chen Yu slammed on the brakes, quickly pulled the car over to the side of the road, and then grabbed the phone to ask what they had won.

’The Champions League? No way. When I turned off the TV, two minutes of stoppage time had already passed. There were only a few minutes left, and from the live broadcast, the expressions on the faces of the Real Madrid stars were already looking desperate.’

"It’s me!" Even through the phone, you could hear how excited Ronaldo was, screaming his head off. Then he corrected himself, "No, wait, it’s Igor! Where’s Igor? Where’s my hero?"

His voice trailed off, as if he had grabbed the phone and run off somewhere.

’Igor?’

’Casillas?’

Chen Yu frowned slightly. ’Could it be that Casillas, who had run out of his goal, scored a last-gasp winner against Porto in the final moments?’

’No, that can’t be right. They were trailing 1-2. To win, they would have needed to score two goals.’

The call was too chaotic. Seeing that he couldn’t make any sense of it, Chen Yu simply hung up and used his phone to check the news online.

’Since the match is over, the news should be out by now.’

"Miraculous Comeback from the Brink, Casillas’s Magical Save Rescues Real Madrid!"

"The Alien Descends in the Final Moments, Forcibly Extends Real Madrid’s Lifeline and Drags the Match to a Penalty Shootout!"

Chen Yu was dumbfounded. ’What on earth happened in the last two minutes of that match?’

According to the news reports, with just over 2 minutes left in the game, the Real Madrid superstars, who hadn’t been able to connect all match, had a sudden flash of inspiration and finally found their rhythm.

Zidane, Beckham, and Guti exchanged a series of quick passes in front of the penalty area, pulling off one brilliant one-two after another. Finally, Raul drew the defense away before making a horizontal pass. Ronaldo shook off Costa, seized the fleeting opportunity, controlled the ball, cut inside to create shooting space, and then smoothly struck a low-driven shot that found the far corner of the net with precision.

Chen Yu was only reading the report, so he could only imagine from the words how fluidly the Real Madrid superstars must have linked up in that moment.

He couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion. ’That’s what a superstar is. They can be quiet for an entire match, but sometimes, all it takes is that one flash of inspiration, that one moment of finding their touch.’

2-2. At the very last moment, Real Madrid forced a dramatic equalizer, sending the match into extra time.

In the 30 minutes of extra time, neither side scored again.

Real Madrid’s Raul contributed a high-quality chip shot, while Casillas also made a miraculous, last-ditch save, tipping a dipping shot from Delray over the bar.

In fact, both sides put on extremely exciting performances during extra time.

On the phone just now, Ronaldo had been excitedly shouting Casillas’s name, calling him a hero, and it was no exaggeration at all.

He had saved the dipping shot in extra time, and then in the penalty shootout, it was him again. In the 5-round shootout, he saved Deco’s penalty at the crucial moment, helping Real Madrid win the shootout 3-2.

He was Real Madrid’s hero.

Just then, the phone rang again.

It was Ronaldo again.

The call connected. Chen Yu was just about to congratulate him—a comeback like that was truly not easy.

But before he could get a word out, Ronaldo’s crying came through the phone, starting as a sniffle, then growing louder, until he was wailing uncontrollably.

Chen Yu, who had been about to speak, held the phone, paused for a moment, and then let out a long, quiet sigh, saying nothing.

’This guy...’