Chapter 893: Twin Stars Shine
"You can see from that first touch just how exceptional Bruno's control really is. That ball was incredibly difficult to handle, yet he made it look completely effortless—simply superb."
"Bruno Fernandes is almost without weakness. Dribbling, passing, shooting—his technique is world-class in every aspect. Some say he doesn't use fancy tricks, but tell me, was that first touch just now not beautiful enough?"
"As the Chinese say, he has 'returned to simplicity.' After nine years of relentless refinement, Bruno's game has reached that pure, instinctive level—every motion seems etched into his body and soul. Wherever he is on the pitch, in whatever situation, he chooses the perfect solution instantly."
"This goal wasn't just stunning—it was crucial. It demoralized the Dutch completely while reigniting Portugal's confidence and belief."
...
"Another remarkable fact—this was Bruno's tenth goal in the European Championship finals. In 2016, he scored eight in one tournament, nearly matching Michel Platini's record of nine from 1984."
"For Platini, 1984 was his peak; he failed to score four years later, finishing his career with nine. Bruno, however, hasn't stopped. He started this tournament with a brace, and now, with two more today, he surpasses both Platini's tally and Cristiano Ronaldo's, who also had nine."
"At only 26 years old, Bruno Fernandes becomes the all-time leading scorer in European Championship history—breaking Platini's 37-year-old record, set years before Cristiano Ronaldo was even born."
...
The Portuguese supporters at the Johan Cruyff Arena were chanting Bruno's name in perfect unison—over twenty thousand voices roaring as one. The sound filled him with immense pride.
Scanning the roaring stands, he even spotted his loved ones—his family, his partners Liu Yimei and Vanessa—cheering wildly, their faces glowing with pride. They weren't Portuguese, but they were proud for him.
The Dutch surrounded the referee, urging him to cut Portugal's lengthy celebration short. The official jogged over, reminding Bruno and his teammates to return to position.
Portugal's players burst into laughter on their way back—oh, how sweet revenge felt!
...
"Portugal attack again—this time it's switched right…"
"Who's there? It's William Carvalho!"
"Oh my God—William Carvalho charging into the Dutch box on the right and sending it in!"
"Ronaldo shoots—ah, just wide! A rare miss from the captain!"
"Carvalho waves at him as if to say, 'Mate, I don't deliver passes like that often—you'd better remember this one!'"
"Maybe age is catching up with Cristiano. At thirty-six, his sharpness isn't what it once was—but for him to stay this competitive at his age is incredible."
...
"Portugal, after coming from behind, are playing with freedom now—controlling every aspect of the game."
"Look—another attack building from midfield. William Carvalho to Bruno…"
"Bruno shoots!"
"Whoa! That came from nowhere! A strike from thirty meters—high quality!"
"Stekelenburg must've had his heart in his throat—what a sudden rocket that was!"
"Bruno remains everywhere—already with two goals, leading Portugal to a 2–1 advantage. But you can tell—he's hungry for a hat-trick."
...
"This Portuguese team is truly phenomenal—every inch a champion."
"With two living legends on the field, Bruno and Ronaldo, it's easy to forget that the rest of the squad are all stars in their own right. Nearly every starter plays for one of Europe's top clubs, many as key figures."
"Portugal's depth right now is astonishing. Every position has elite talent. It's no wonder they've won four consecutive major tournaments: Euro 2016, Confederations Cup 2017, World Cup 2018, Nations League 2019. Win this one, and it'll be five straight!"
"The Netherlands are a top side too, but even at home they're being dominated—it shows how powerful Portugal truly are. No wonder they've been ranked world No.1 for three consecutive years."
...
Frank de Boer couldn't hear the commentators' praise, but he could see the truth on the field. His team was hanging by a thread.
Every adjustment he'd made since halftime was countered immediately by Fernando Santos. Portugal dictated everything, pushing the Dutch back so deep that their midfield barely existed.
From the moment Bruno gave Portugal the lead, dominance became inevitable.
With control established, the two defensive midfielders alternated pressing forward. First Danilo Pereira, then William Carvalho—it was relentless. The Dutch had no answer, trapped and suffocating in their own half.
Santos' side played clever, fluid football, exploiting every weakness. With such depth and structure, Portugal were dismantling the Netherlands piece by piece.
At the heart of everything stood Bruno Fernandes—unquestionably the man of the match.
De Boer had misjudged him completely. He'd assumed fatigue would dull him—after all, Bruno had just finished a 67-match season: 57 for Manchester United, plus 10 for Portugal. How could anyone maintain energy after nine grueling months?
Yet here he was in the 60th minute, still pressing, sprinting, and shining.
Was the man made of iron?
...
In the 65th minute, during a stoppage, the Netherlands made changes—Frenkie de Jong off, Ryan Gravenberch on; a move clearly aimed at reinforcing the defense.
De Boer was desperate. The way Portugal were attacking, the defense wouldn't hold much longer. Another goal could turn a home defeat into humiliation before thirty thousand Dutch fans.
If Gravenberch could stabilize the midfield, perhaps they could hold on.
He made three substitutions in total, while Santos hadn't used any—and still, Portugal remained dominant.
Then, just three minutes after Gravenberch came on, misfortune struck. Bernardo Silva misplaced a pass. Wijnaldum pounced, launching a counter. The ball went left to Denzel Dumfries, who drilled a low cross that Rui Patrício parried—but Wijnaldum followed up and smashed home.
2–2! The Netherlands equalized against the run of play!
...
But it didn't last.
In the 72nd minute, sloppy Dutch passing in midfield gifted the ball to William Carvalho, who surged forward down the right, cutting all the way to the byline past Gravenberch.
The crowd gasped—was this the same composed holding midfielder they all knew? But inexperience betrayed him; his cross was blocked easily by De Vrij.
Unfortunately for the Dutch, De Vrij's touch was poor—Ronaldo stole the ball back and, about to shoot, was shoved down in panic.
The whistle blew instantly. Penalty!
Ronaldo stepped up. He sent Stekelenburg the wrong way—goal. 3–2, Portugal back in front.
It was Ronaldo's tenth goal in European Championship finals—tying Bruno Fernandes at the top of the all-time scoring list.
Clearly, the captain had no intention of letting his protégé steal all the headlines. His finishing had been off all evening, but when the chance finally came, he seized it ruthlessly.
Two stars. Two goals apiece.
And under the floodlights of the Johan Cruyff Arena, the night belonged to Portugal's twin suns—Bruno Fernandes and Cristiano Ronaldo—rising together over Europe.
(END CHAPTER)
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