Super Wingstorm

Yang Yang had long anticipated that one day he would have to face an opponent’s tight man-marking, but he never expected it to be so soon.

Faced with Van Haren’s tight marking, he really didn’t know how to react.

Delighted?

A little, yes. After all, this was a specific tactic from Eredivisie giant Feyenoord.

But mostly, he felt frustrated, because he wanted to be helping his team.

In less than ten minutes, Yang Yang tried various ways to receive the ball, but not once was he able to shake off Van Haren.

This Feyenoord left-back gave Yang Yang the impression that Van Marwijk had sent him on with a single mission: to shadow Yang Yang. He could ignore everything else.

Yang Yang had no effective solution for this kind of defensive tactic.

He had tried dropping deep with his teammates and also making runs in behind, but nothing worked.

Van Haren’s defensive strategy was simple: defend when possible, foul when not. Moreover, his fouls were subtle. The referee would call them but wouldn’t issue a card, or even a verbal warning.

This was the first time Yang Yang had faced such a tenacious opponent.

He also knew that this was a test for him.

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”De Jong still isn’t active enough on the right flank.”

In the chairman’s box at the Amsterdam Arena, Technical Director Van Gaal frowned deeply and sighed.

Yang Yang was completely locked down by Van Haren up front. If De Jong could push forward to help, Ajax’s attack on the right flank would have more bite, but De Jong remained firmly at the back.

Of course, the upside was that Feyenoord’s talent, Van Persie, was struggling to find space.

”If Talabesi were here, I’m sure he’d be more adventurous,” said Chairman Van Pragg.

Van Gaal nodded slightly. Sometimes, attacking requires taking risks.

Ajax’s football philosophy is all about creativity and a spirit of adventure, but De Jong is a defensive player at heart.

”What exactly went wrong with the negotiations in Brazil?” Van Pragg asked with concern.

Tunisia was performing well in the African Cup. As things stood, it seemed unlikely Talabesi would return for at least another half-month. Ajax had originally planned to sign a right-back before the winter break and had even targeted Cruzeiro’s Mourinho, but the deal ultimately fell through.

This was what led to Koeman having to play De Jong at right-back for this match.

”Cruzeiro knew we were desperate, so their asking price was a bit high. Besides, they weren’t particularly keen on selling Mourinho,” Van Gaal explained flatly. ”You know we won’t overpay for a right-back.”

Van Pragg nodded helplessly. The transfer window was already closed, so it was too late to sign anyone even if they wanted to.

”We still need to sort this out quickly. Talabesi is playing very well at the African Cup. I doubt we’ll be able to keep him this summer.”

”Don’t worry. Brazil is full of talent, and we’re already working on backup plans.”

Van Pragg forced a smile. ”The other three teams in the Dutch Cup semi-finals aren’t that strong. If we can beat Feyenoord in this match, we’ll be the favorites to win the cup.”

Van Gaal understood what Van Pragg was getting at. They were locked in a fierce battle with Eindhoven in the league, and there was no real hope in the Champions League—getting to the knockout stage was a stroke of luck in itself. Only by securing the Dutch Cup could Ajax bring some stability to this turbulent season.

”He has never disappointed me. I believe tonight will be no different.”

”You certainly have a lot of confidence in him.”

”Of course. If I ever leave Ajax to coach another team, he’s the first person I’ll try to buy.”

A peculiar look flashed in Van Pragg’s eyes. He knew Van Gaal was no fool; on the contrary, Van Gaal was very smart and saw things with great clarity. He was just a bit arrogant and aloof.

”Then you’d better get started on renewing his contract,” Van Pragg said with a laugh.

The implication was that Van Gaal should personally put an end to his own fantasy.

Van Gaal also gave a slight smile.

On the pitch, the referee finally blew the final whistle.

After three minutes of stoppage time, the ninety minutes of regulation play were over.

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”That guy plays dirty. He uses a lot of little tricks.”

Yang Yang squeezed his water bottle hard, letting water from the nozzle spray into his mouth, and mumbled to Luther Carroll about the situation he was facing.

”That’s how it should be. Playing dirty is normal.” Luther Carroll wasn’t surprised at all. ”You know, professional football is about doing whatever it takes to take down your opponent. Victory is everything. If you can’t win, nothing you do will be recognized, understand?”

Yang Yang nodded hard. He wasn’t a purist. While he disdained stooping to certain levels, he hated losing even more.

”I told you, you’d run into this kind of situation sooner or later. In the first few games, your opponents didn’t know you. Some teams might not have scouted you at all. But tonight is different. Feyenoord has definitely studied you in-depth. You have to be mentally prepared for how tough this match will be.”

Yang Yang nodded emphatically. If he wasn’t prepared before, he certainly was now.

”Right now, you’re the player with the most energy left, and you’re the team’s last hope. You need to figure out how to open things up on the right flank. You have to keep a clear head and not lose your composure. The more critical the situation, the calmer you need to be.”

Yang Yang sipped his water, nodding continuously.

Luther Carroll lightly patted Yang Yang’s shoulder, signaling for him to go to Ronald Koeman.

There was only a five-minute break between regulation and extra time, and they couldn’t go back to the locker room. Everything had to be sorted out on the pitch.

Coach Koeman had used his last precious substitution on Yang Yang. The message was clear: he was pinning the team’s final hopes on him. So, for Ajax now, the most important thing was how to get Yang Yang into the game.

Koeman told Ibrahimovic and Sneijder to drift towards Yang Yang’s side as much as possible, to give more support, and to try more balls in behind so that Yang Yang could attack facing the goal, instead of always receiving the ball with his back to it.

”We’ve tried several times, but it failed every time,” Sneijder said, panting as he shook his head.

They had played for ninety minutes, and everyone’s stamina was pretty much drained.

Koeman’s brow was also furrowed. He turned to look at Yang Yang. ”Yang, do you have any suggestions?”

Yang Yang looked at his teammates around him. He saw every one of them looking at him. The captain, Van der Vaart, notoriously lacked stamina. His face was pale, and it was doubtful he could even last through extra time. This made the pressure on Yang Yang’s shoulders feel even heavier.

In the last Champions League group stage match against Bruges, he had also come on as a substitute at the last minute. But the situation then was completely different. Back then, everyone had given up, and no one had high hopes for him. But now, everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to provide an answer.

If he said now that he wasn’t confident, the whole team’s morale would plummet. The game would be lost before it was even played.

But he couldn’t say that.

That wasn’t his style.

He had to win. He despised failure.

”You guys don’t need to crowd my side. It’s better if you all conserve your energy. I’ll expand my range of movement and drift more into the half-spaces. As long as I can get a sliver of time and space, I can bring the ball forward.”

As Yang Yang spoke, his expression was utterly resolute, his confidence absolute. His gaze was unwavering.

He was genuinely confident.

Of course, that was on the condition he could get that time and space.

If Van Haren continued to shadow him relentlessly like before, he really didn’t have a good solution.

”Do you have the stamina for that?” Koeman asked.

”No problem,” Yang Yang replied confidently.

From his earliest days at Almere, stamina and speed had been his strengths.

”How sure are you?” Koeman asked.

Everyone’s eyes fell on Yang Yang once again. Their gazes were all waiting for a glimmer of hope.

”I’ll make it happen!” Yang Yang said through gritted teeth, without hesitation.

Ronald Koeman looked deeply at Yang Yang, hesitated for a moment, and finally gritted his teeth and nodded. ”Alright, we’ll do it your way. I believe you can do it.”

Once the head coach gave his approval, no one else had any objections.

At a time like this, the only one on the team capable of carrying the ball into the final third was Yang Yang.

”Alright, my brother. I’ll be waiting for you up top. Just bring the ball up and get it to me. I guarantee I’ll bury them!” Ibrahimovic was exhausted, but he still spoke through gritted teeth.

Even though he had already scored a goal, he had had a frustrating match.

”I’ll be ready at the far post,” Wesley Sonck promised.

”I’ll get you the ball.” After high-fiving Yang Yang, Sneijder gave him a hug.

”I’ll hang back for the second wave,” Van der Vaart added.

”I’ll cover the back,” said De Jong. ”You got this, brother.”

Vermaelen came over, said nothing, and just hugged Yang Yang.

At this moment, the Belgian center-back truly understood why Yang Yang was able to integrate into the first team so quickly and be accepted by everyone: because he dared to shoulder responsibility at critical moments.

Success and failure are common on a football pitch, but the willingness to take responsibility in a crucial moment is a player’s most valuable quality. And Vermaelen saw that in Yang Yang.

He also saw the intense desire to win revealed in his tone and expression.

When a match reached this stage, what the players needed most was often no longer tactics. Those things couldn’t help the team anymore. What everyone needed was hope.

A hope that everyone could believe in without a doubt.

”Come on, everyone! Let’s work together. I believe the final victory will be ours.”

Head coach Ronald Koeman walked over and extended his right hand.

Yang Yang, Ibrahimovic, Sneijder, and the other players extended their hands one by one, placing them on top of the coach’s and their teammates’ hands. They all stood in a tight circle, hands stacked, and shouted in unison, ”COME ON! COME ON!! COME ON!!!”

With a final thrust of their joined hands, the Ajax players walked back onto the pitch.

In the stands, the Ajax fans all felt the players’ determination. The roar of their shouts and cheers grew louder, echoing throughout the entire Amsterdam Arena.