You don't know if you don't watch football, hell and heaven are only in a moment.

In the '99 Champions League final, the final between Manchester United and Bayern Munich was played until the last minute, and in stoppage time, UEFA staff had already begun to tie the ribbon symbolizing the Bundesliga giant to the trophy. David Beckham took two corners, Sheringham volleyed in a 180° rotation and in the second minute of stoppage time, the baby-faced Ole Gunnar Solskjaer returned from hell and fired the ball into the net.

The winners are crying, and the losers are dancing, which is a true portrayal of that night.

Compared to the Champions League, Portsmouth's experience looks nothing short of pale.

Andrews, who was the winner, flew directly from behind the goal over the billboard, took off his blue and white jersey directly, and held it in his hand.

When will you not take it off at this time?

At this time, there were still about ten seconds before the end of the game, and the referee obviously had no desire to continue, and blew the final whistle after making up a yellow card for the undresser.

It's ironic that the more you want something, the more you end up losing what you originally had.

On one side of the stadium is a raging flame, but on this side it has become a dry sea. The players, including Edward, couldn't figure out exactly what had happened in the last three minutes.

Ricardo looked at his hands and if he could have committed a foul at that moment, he would have used all his strength to drag Cresswell down.

Lawrence crouched on the ground, his head buried in the crook of his arm, and it was a chance to be aspired to. As long as the shot is on point, on point!

On the football field, there is not only the body, not only the speed, the technique; Shooting is also a weapon to destroy the city, and he should have discovered it earlier.

Everyone was sluggish or squatting, and Margery was slumped on the turf.

Are white pants green? Or is it yellow? His right hand was grasping his thigh, and the five finger prints were clearly reflected on the muscles behind the knee, and the knuckles were white.

The fingertips rested on the tendons, jumping and jumping, and the feeling of powerlessness rushed from the soles of the feet to this.

Royer's free-kick in the first half is still fresh in his memory, and he leaps high into the air, but the ball only flew when he was about to hit the ground.

Margery ran and ran as hard as he could, not daring to stop, but at last he lay down here.

He remembered a lot of inconsequential things, like the note that was attached to the cabinet door:

Margery

1995.10.01

Central defender

It was the most marginal place, the most dilapidated place, and he wanted to put the cabinet next to the captain.

I think about the school homework that I haven't finished yet, and Hydward is not only the coach of the team, why do you care about my homework?

Where's the workbook?

On the team's bus? Or in the locker room?

If I still have the strength for Andrews's ball, I will never let him go!

Hey? I think what is this for?

……

Margery's mind wandered into the world, but what was the matter with the tears in the corners of his eyes?

His right hand clenched into a fist, smashing his knee over and over again, chagrin, blame, pain, and hesitation.

It was said on TV that in Britain there were football hooligans everywhere, fighting, smashing cars, tearing down seats, and that they didn't dare to do anything if the team lost.

The player is the father-killing enemy of the hooligans, insulting, greeting the three generations of ancestors, this face should be a hundred times more terrifying than the boss's angry appearance.

"Margery, stand up!"

His voice was soft and deep, but he didn't have the slightest desire to get up.

"Margery, stand up!"

The voice accentuated the tone, like an alarm clock when you wake up in the morning.

The voice looked annoyed, and grabbed Margery's arm and lifted it up like a chicken.

"Margery! Stand up!! ”

Those who have fallen should still look at why they insisted on this in the first place.

Edward, calmly with a kind of command, said, "Go to the court." ”

The lad is a little scared, and it doesn't matter if he plays well, but the two goals of the two Ipswich are related to him, is this kind of performance good?

This is the three points on the road to relegation, all gone.

Ward saw his fear and said, "Do you know Peking Opera? ”

Nodding, this is a great art from China.

"At the end of a Peking Opera performance in China, the performers are going to step off the stage and respectfully send the audience out of the hall, and these audience members are the actors' food and clothing."

"The reason why Magri football can be called football is that the fans are our food and clothing, and without them, football is nothing."

Hydward gave him a push and said, "Go." ”

The performance on the pitch is good, the players want to stand with the fans and sing and dance, and the performance is not good, far away, as if everyone in the stands has become a flood of beasts.

5 meters is not enough, then it is a little farther away, 8 meters, 10 meters are fine.

Human beings are strange creatures, they can only share happiness and hardship, and this is the case with human nature.

…………

…………

Glenn, the big fat man's president, also made an expedition here today, lost, lost again. is still so aggrieved, it's a lore.

Most of the people in the stands didn't look very good, and some were discussing Lawrence's foot; Some are scolding the club's higher-ups, even though they don't know where the current Portsmouth is coming from; And then there's silence, like Glenn.

The players walked past the low stands, the eyes of three thousand people watching, to use an inappropriate metaphor, they are all monkeys waiting to be exhibited in the zoo.

Haim takes the lead, followed by Danny; Alan; Jonathan; Ricardo and so on. As I walked, the discussion and even some scolding of the fans came into my ears, and I unconsciously followed my inner choice and stayed away from the fans.

That's why Glenn is silent.

After the fat president finished the game, the feeling of loss has been buried in my heart, I lost, I didn't get a point, I was the first to last, and I was relegated!

But he's not going to blame any player, Portsmouth is so strong, everyone is running desperately, what is there to blame.

Just like Chinese fans often say to the Chinese team, they love you when they win, they love you when they lose, and they don't love you if they don't fight.

Glenn wants to sing some fan songs to boost morale, but what are you all doing so far away?

…………

Covered in mud, Margery mustered up his best courage and finally stood in front of the fan stands, and many people could see clearly in their nostrils and eyes.

He tugged at the corners of his coat and lowered his head and back.

In his own voice, he shouted, "I'm sorry!! ”

The boss is right, how can any parent kill their child, it is useless to apologize to the coach, the result of the game is already doomed, and the real apology is for the fans who have been shouting for the whole game.

Glenn shouted, "Margery, come here, come closer." ”

He beckoned, and finally stopped being silent.

The stands were low, and if the fans wanted to, they could turn over the pitch at any time, and President Glenn easily hugged Margery.

"Margery, there's no need to say I'm sorry."

The surrounding fans also reacted, and everyone was gossiping.

"We don't blame you!"

"Lad, you've got a long stick, and we owe that goal to you."

"Margery, you just didn't guard Andrews once, and you had so much success."

……

The young man was surrounded by the crowd, and the tears in his eyes couldn't stop sliding down, which was a completely different feeling from the previous tears.

"Margery, you are our hope, you are our future."