I Am Scouted by Real Madrid

Chapter 35: Chapter 6: What

Stepping onto the pitch, watched by tens of thousands, taking on a crucial role.

La Liga’s opening match, Derby de Madrid, Real Madrid’s championship ceremony.

Fans worldwide are watching this match, and when they hear the commentator mention Chen Zhong, just a 16-year-old player, they can’t help but question it.

”Is Real Madrid serious?”

”Did he offend the coach? The opponents are Fernando and Aguero up front.”

”16 years old? Real Madrid? As a center-back? Can a player this age really play at such a level?”

Questioning, questioning, and more questioning.

Even the Merengue fans feel mostly anxious inside. Some are even directly cursing Schuster, questioning why he has placed Chen Zhong on the bench, when even Torres would have been a better choice!

Schuster has his reasons, though. He had all planned out; Pepe’s speed, stamina, and experience were perfect for the center-back role in his tactical setup. Paired with Cannavaro, his central defense was stable.

There was also Metzelder, who came on a free transfer, along with Chen Zhong and Torres from youth development, plus Ramos could fill in as a center-back. The team’s defense seemed adequately staffed.

However, before the season even started, injuries plagued the team, reducing their numbers repeatedly. Schuster asked Disalvo several times to adjust the team’s physical training, but was ignored each time.

In this match, due to Torres’s inherent height limitation, plus Chen Zhong’s impressive performance in the last game, Schuster decided to put Chen Zhong on the bench. But truth be told, he never planned to let Chen Zhong play; he wasn’t crazy. The opponents were Fernando and Aguero.

Diego Forlan, who once beat Eto’o to claim the La Liga Golden Boot and shared the European Golden Boot with ”The King of Highbury,” Henry.

Sergio Aguero, Atletico Madrid’s record signing at 20 million euros, broke Diego Maradona’s record at 15 years and 35 days, becoming the youngest player to participate in Argentina’s top league, a super genius.

The striker duo they form is one of the most threatening combinations in La Liga.

Anxiously, Schuster paced the sidelines, occasionally glancing at Aguirre.

”This damn bastard!”

”He’ll surely focus the team’s attack on exploiting Chen, Drenthe’s weaknesses.”

Indeed, Schuster was right about Aguirre’s intentions. This season’s Real Madrid was no longer the Galaxy Battleship; they had brought in many young players.

After seeing Real Madrid’s starting lineup, Aguirre devised a strategy focusing on Drenthe’s side, which proved successful. And now there was a 16-year-old Chen Zhong, doubling the opportunities.

Aguero and Forlan, understanding the coach’s instructions, already had their plans formed, and the clear orders caused the Atletico Madrid players to cast malevolent glances at Chen Zhong.

The looks seemed to say, ”Welcome to the adult world, little brother. Soon you’ll find out what it feels like to be beaten by society.”

Robinho was completely off his game this match. When the ball reached his feet, before he could even turn, Garcia had intercepted.

Schuster widened his eyes in disbelief: ”What is he doing? Damn! Is he still asleep?”

His curses couldn’t stop Atletico Madrid’s attacks. With the ball, Garcia feigned an inward movement, and Drenthe quickly closed in to intercept.

Just as Drenthe shifted his weight, Garcia played the ball down the flank, then surged forward with the ball, leaving Drenthe struggling in the physical confrontation.

The Dutch defender stumbled and was forcefully pushed aside.

”Drenthe looks clumsy.”

”He can’t defend against the opponent at all.”

”Garcia made a diagonal pass to the center.”

”Rodriguez received the ball.”

Both teams used the 4-4-2 formation. After Rodriguez received the ball, he had three passing options: giving it to Simao for a baseline run or cut-in, or to Aguero or Forlan.

The three Atletico Madrid players formed a diagonal line—Simao at the base, Forlan in the middle, Aguero between Cannavaro and the tracking-back Drenthe.

Chen Zhong quickly assessed his surroundings, mentally constructing a positioning chart.

Rodriguez made a first-touch pass, sending the ball towards Forlan in front of Chen Zhong. Before Rodriguez even made his pass, Cannavaro shouted: ”Chen!”

Chen Zhong understood Cannavaro’s intention—it was for him to use his body to push against the opponent, seizing ball control the moment Forlan attempted to control it; it was the best opportunity, and Chen Zhong’s height gives him an advantage.

Forlan was a 180cm man, wearing a ponytail, with eyes sharp as an eagle’s. His high nose added to his imposing aura. Now, he faced away from Chen Zhong, seemingly saying, ”Come on, take me on, I’m up for it.”

”Move! Move! You damn bastard!” Schuster stood at the sideline, seeing Cannavaro point in Chen Zhong’s direction. Although he didn’t hear Cannavaro call Chen Zhong’s name, he had a general idea of what Cannavaro wanted Chen Zhong to do.

And the other fans, seeing Atletico Madrid suddenly launch a ”blitzkrieg,” switched from seeing Real Madrid in offense to the home team being dangerously invaded, were suddenly anxious.

At this crucial moment, right when Forlan was about to receive the ball.

When they saw Chen Zhong standing still, some quick-thinking fans couldn’t help but speculate: ”Is this kid frozen in fear?”

Soon, the answer became clear.

”Forlan didn’t opt to control the ball.”

”The ball was flicked up.”

”Then he turned around.”

”Facing the goal directly.”

Atletico Madrid’s speed was incredibly fast, from Garcia’s diagonal pass, to Rodriguez’s immediate pass, to Forlan flicking the ball—there was only a slight ”pause.”

Cannavaro quickly moved inward, closing in on Forlan. Forlan’s posture indicated he intended to turn and shoot.

Merengue fans gasped, Schuster almost lost his mind and wanted to jump onto the pitch to help defend. Almost everyone’s attention was fixed on Forlan.

Forlan glanced at Chen Zhong, seemingly trying to block him, the glint in his eagle-like eyes showed a hint of amusement, as if saying, ”Got you, young man!”

He turned, lifted his foot, but didn’t shoot, instead gently tapped the ball.

In a flash, the ball jumped over Cannavaro’s side. Cannavaro turned in horror to see Aguero, whose short hair seemed like a venomous snake hidden in the grass, revealing its vicious face, aiming for Real Madrid’s throat’s a lethal strike.

His gaze was fierce, with Drenthe merely playing catch-up behind him.

No one could stop him, no one!

Even if Cannavaro hadn’t moved inward, he couldn’t stop him. This duo’s ”combo move” had been practiced many times.

Just when Aguero intended to shoot, a long leg extended from the side, directly swiping the ball from under Aguero’s feet.

It was Chen Zhong, who seemed to be blocking the shot but actually intercepted by crossing with Cannavaro.

”Chen Zhong!”

”It’s Chen Zhong!”

”When did he appear here?”

”Wasn’t he supposed to block Forlan’s shot, then watch me score?”

At that instant, many thoughts crossed Aguero’s mind, yet that didn’t stop him from immediately attempting to tackle. His goal was clear: force Chen Zhong to pass back to the goalkeeper or repossess the ball.

Meanwhile, Forlan also accelerated, charging towards Casillas. If Chen Zhong passed back to the goalkeeper, Forlan could intercept to finish the shot, or even strike midway.

An ordinary person facing such circumstances might panic, but not Chen Zhong. He always kept his head up, observing the field placement. Upon realizing only Aguero moved in to tackle.

He slightly angled himself and drew back.

As Aguero approached, Chen Zhong forcefully leaned into him.

Aguero originally intended to stick close to Chen Zhong, attempting to force a pass or tackle. But Chen Zhong’s hit lifted Aguero’s legs, causing him to fall flat backward.

The crowd’s exclamations were audible, with some looking at the main referee. Seeing the referee didn’t react, it confirmed that this rugby-like scene wasn’t a foul!

”This kid, this kid!” Schuster was both stunned and thrilled at the sight, yet soon he couldn’t resist shouting, ”What is he doing?”