The game continues, and so does Hydward's observation of the game.

He sees the contradiction between Luis and Drinkwater, and he sees that Drinkwater deliberately did not pass it on several occasions, but he is not prepared to meddle in the contradiction between the players. When Hydward first started as a coach, he deeply understood a truth: what won you the white robe was neither the promotion of your peers nor the praise of the media, but the fans only looked at the crown on your head and the holy grail in your heart. It's the same for the players, although the coach's on-demand and the rapport between teammates are important, but it won't make you worth a penny, and the real good players are trained in blood and fire.

"Ward, look!" Finnan pointed to the field and shouted.

He followed the sound as Mane swung his left foot around the side of his right foot to flick the ball out and then deftly swiped past skate defender Gunnarsson. Ward seemed to see the Icelander's pursed lips and the anger under his strong muscles, Gunnarsson, who had been a professional player for more than six years, was not something to be found casually.

But the Icelander was not just angry, beneath his wounded self-esteem, Gunnarsson was vaguely aware of a latent unease, a tension bordering on fear. He's already a veteran with hundreds of professional league appearances, and he's fearless against forwards who can handle them with speed, strength and skill. But Portsmouth's Sadio Mane is nothing like what he's used to face, the Senegalese play like a hungry wolf, biting you tightly, and Gunnarsson feels like he's under a cold, inexplicable sense of surveillance from the start of the game, and he can bite you hard when you make a mistake, as he just did.

“shit！ Why don't I have such players! Nirvonoko couldn't help but whisper and complain with envy, his team played for a while and was pressed into the penalty area by the opposite side and couldn't raise his head, he had the illusion that he was playing a giant team like Manchester United. If it's just Mane, Icardi and N'Golo Kante have had a good presence for the first ten minutes, and they are both in good form.

Icardi kicked the ball like a howling north wind, coming and going without a trace, and this is not the most terrifying, what really hurts is the low temperature he brings. Catch you silently, quieter than a sleeping cat, at first you will tremble and your teeth chatter, but when your muscles slowly relax, it will be like dreaming of hot wine, warm bed, like a woman's soft wattle, very hot, nothing is as hot as the wind anymore. It only takes a moment for him to come to you, and he doesn't know where the danger is coming from, and when you think about resting and even your mind is full of Hawaiian beaches, everything that belongs to you will slowly fade away. It is said that this process does not feel pain, it is like drowning in hot milk, peaceful and quiet.

Icardi appeared in the box like a ghost, receiving a pass from Mane and firing a cold shot, and the Cardiff City defenders watched as if they hadn't seen the Argentinian stop the ball and hit the goal, and if it weren't for Tom Heaton's crucial moment remembering to hold his sword, the ball would have been lost.

Argentines are like ice, then Mane is a mountain fire in the summer, the red flames burn the clouds, and the atmosphere is steaming. I don't know the yin and yang charcoal, why burn it alone? Everyone knows his characteristics, a spark can make the whole stadium blaze, his temperature is almost everywhere, burning 90 minutes of a football game, the short man with a perpetual motion machine, tireless, running hard, running constantly.

Of course, it was not the three of them who dominated the game.

'Luiz, the farther away from goal, the less dangerous you are, you should go ahead,' Kante said suddenly.

"I can also hear the saying that the fist is retracted to fight more powerfully." After two brief exchanges in the game, he ran away, but Luiz's slightly proud and winning tone still gave Kante a huge shock.

………………

At this moment, Luis was jogging on the field, watching everyone's movements as he ran, and the place where there was the ball was messed up, and he was far away.

And he was still muttering to himself: "No, no, boy, you are only allowed to use your left foot now"

"Put the ball on the left foot, the left foot is the best, the left and right side upside down, the enemy will be very unaccustomed, don't face them, body side a little. Move your fingers ......"

"Yes, that's it, don't be forceful, be flexible, be elegant."

As he spoke, Brent adjusted his posture, from left to right, from top to bottom, every joint of his body had to be adjusted to the peak, which was a kind of physical rhythm.

"Your ball and your man have to be one and keep it that way...... Wonderful......"

Louis Brent knew he was a genius from an early age, a genius in the sport, but unlike everyone else, he didn't have a good reputation, unlike Mustafi who had his name on the desk of the all-Bundesliga youth director before he was ten years old. Coach "Don" always treats him as a baby bump, for fear of being abducted one day, so he rarely plays with all his strength since the youth team competition, and even then he is still the best in the entire academy.

The biggest difference between Luis and Mustafi is that although the latter has a more developed motor nerve, Mousse puts a considerable part of his energy into horse racing, tennis, golf and music, which are things that most of his teammates do not understand, while Brent is different, he squeezes his talent every minute and every second every day, and football is his only thing.

It's hard to control every muscle and nerve in the night, so when life was raging at Faton Park in the night sky, Portsmouth was whipping up a free-kick from the back, and Mendy made a very ordinary through ball to Brent, Brent, who was waiting outside the Blue Jays box, narrowed his eyes and made an incredible move - he picked the ball up like a dance in the water, and then he half-turned and completed the Cardiff City goal.

Waterdance, who was agile and stabbed the enemy with the tip of his sword, and the ball arced high towards goalkeeper Tom Heaton's goal, barely having time to react before the ball went into the net.

Half a second, like half a century.

The narrator was already frantic and almost roared: "What did we see? Incredible, a stroke of genius! Fans, what do you think, on October 1, 2000, Vieri Henry scored the exact same goal in Highbury, against the Red Devils, it was the best goal of Henry's long career, I used to think that it was impossible to replicate, oh my God, after 12 years, Louis Brent, let's remember the name of this talented teenager, he took us back 12 years ago! ”

Portsmouth and Cardiff City are staring at the ball in the goal in a hellish way, it is not Mane, not Icardi, but this new nobody, Tom Heaton spreads his hands as if to say: I have been guarding the door for a few years, I have never seen a ball like this, have you ever seen it? Portsmouth was smiling and Margery was already crazy, and even though he was at the back of the pitch he was the first to rush to Louis's broad back and yell: "Brent, you're red!" The media will eat your !! "Well, a unique way to celebrate, isn't it?

Brent walked slowly back with Margery on his back, with a big smile on his face and a love tune in his mouth, and when he walked to the center of the pitch and waited for kick-off, the spotlight was on him, and his back was clearly sprinkled on the ground, and in that moment, Louis stood tall like an emperor.