"JULIEN!"
"In all this chaos, we can still rely on Julien. Lukaku had several chances, but he's not cutting it. Usually his finishing is solid, I have no idea why his legs are so soft today."
"That goal from Julien was so satisfying. That earlier foul by their number four on Julien clearly should have been a red card."
"These Ajaccio folks are just that sneaky."
At Sunset Café Bar tonight, customer flow was explosive. The main hall was packed.
But as the most iconic fan pub, most people still crowded here.
Bertrand had to tidy up the outdoor area and bring a TV outside.
When Julien's goal went in, everyone inside and out erupted. The cheers nearly lifted the roof off the pub.
Meanwhile, outside Stade Ange Casanova, waiting Bastia fans were also watching the broadcast.
They were watching in a nearby shop: a Bastia supporter's establishment, their outpost at the Ajaccio stadium.
Actually, Corsica was small enough that there was plenty of interaction between Ajaccio and Bastia.
But since there was only one TV broadcasting, many at the back couldn't see.
They relied on people at the front for live commentary.
The moment of the goal came.
A simple "Julien scored" immediately brought the atmosphere near the shop to fever pitch.
They didn't know how the goal was scored.
They didn't know the specifics of positioning and build-up, but they heard it—Julien scored.
That was the most beautiful moment!
The away trip suddenly seemed wonderful.
At Stade Ange Casanova, after Julien and his teammates celebrated, the match continued.
Ajaccio's attacking firepower clearly couldn't match Bastia's.
Veteran coach Dupont furrowed his brow, at a loss.
The on-field situation was terrible for them.
The TF1 commentator said, "Bastia scores first, putting enormous pressure on Ajaccio. They're behind, but if they try to attack, they'll give Bastia more space. And that's not even mentioning De Rocca, a top Ligue 1 winger.
Bastia also has Mané, Lukaku, De Bruyne, and other youngsters.
Their youth storm is sweeping across France, even Europe."
In Manchester, England, Begiristain and Soriano sat in their office, eyes blazing as they stared at the television.
Looking at Bastia, their eyes gleamed.
Like wolves spotting prey.
Just this past month, both had resigned from Iberian powerhouse Barcelona to join perennially loss-making Premier League club Manchester City.
City had won their first-ever top-league title last season.
Combined with the ambitious blueprint offered by the Abu Dhabi consortium, it attracted Begiristain and Soriano.
Soriano had grown tired of the power struggles within Barcelona's hierarchy.
As Barcelona's vice president, Soriano had spent five years at the club. Using his business acumen, he'd increased the giant's revenue from €123 million to €308 million!
Over five seasons, Barcelona's bank accounts went from a net loss of €73 million to a profit of €88 million.
It was a case study worthy in business schools.
It sounds impressive, but when you know that before joining Barcelona, Soriano had been chairman of Spanish airline Spanair, it makes sense.
For someone like that to manage a football club was essentially a mismatch.
Meanwhile, Begiristain was completely overshadowed by Barcelona's aura despite all his talent.
The two discussed and jumped ship to City together. They were just hired this month, and were already thinking about next season.
After finally winning their first top-league title in the club's long history last season, City decided to bid farewell to the past.
If the 2008-2012 period, just after the Abu Dhabi consortium's takeover, was defined as City's era of wild growth, then starting from this summer, the club would truly embark on polished operational development.
That's why the white-robed sheikhs of Abu Dhabi offered over-the-top compensation to bring Soriano and Begiristain to City.
City demanded change.
Not to be nouveau riche, but to be a powerhouse!
They had ambition.
One Premier League title was far from enough, they hungered for more trophies, to conquer Europe.
Begiristain and Soriano hit the ground running at the Blue Moon.
Their first target, from among countless club names, was Bastia.
This club's recent seasons had been legendary.
City wasn't interested in Bastia the club, they were interested in Bastia's players.
Especially these young talents.
"Make time for a trip to France. I think we must get De Rocca. This guy's talent is literally bursting off the screen." Soriano watched as Julien danced through the crowd like an elf on the broadcast, and praising words began flowing freely from his mouth.
Begiristain nodded. "Indeed. His style is somewhat like Messi, the kind that opponents can't stop without fouling."
Messi.
When they said that name, both men's eyes sparkled.
It reminded them of Barcelona's success in recent years.
Now they wanted to replicate Dream Team Three Barcelona's success at City!
And Julien might just be City's Messi.
The gleam in both men's eyes grew brighter as Julien made another breakthrough on the TV screen.
On the pitch, facing a three-man press from Mutu, Mostefa, and Lippini, Julien didn't choose to pass!
Julien gently touched the ball in place. Mutu and Mostefa blocked his inside route, while fullback Lippini blocked his forward path.
They'd been defending Julien this way the whole time.
The effect had been mediocre, because De Bruyne would always come to support Julien, quickly breaking down their defense.
But this time, De Bruyne didn't immediately come for support, and Julien didn't pass.
He kept his knees bent, lowering his center of gravity to enhance balance and change-of-direction agility.
He used slow dribbling to lure the nearest defender, Mutu, closer.
With teammates helping, Mutu charged at Julien without hesitation, intending to win the ball or force a pass.
But the instant Mutu lunged, Julien suddenly accelerated!
Taking long strides forward, Mutu immediately panicked and tried to grab Julien.
But in open space, Julien's height and long legs gave him a huge stride length.
Two steps shook off Mutu.
Mostefa quickly stepped up while Lippini moved toward Mostefa, they were trying to close the door.
Julien feinted toward the gap between them.
Mostefa continued sliding toward the sideline.
As Julien approached him, his right foot moved the ball to his left, then his left foot flicked it back to his right.
As Mostefa's balance wavered, Julien's right foot pushed forward.
The ball went through Mostefa's legs diagonally backward.
Whoosh!
This drew gasps from the Ajaccio crowd.
Though they were derby rivals, Julien's performance on the right wing over these twenty-plus minutes left them shocked and impressed.
Especially this sequence: the Croqueta followed by a nutmeg, the entire attacking flow was silky smooth. They'd never seen anything like it in Ligue 1.
Unless you were an old-timer who'd seen Paris's magician play like this a decade ago.
The Ajaccio fans didn't have time for more amazement. Their hearts were in their throats now, constantly praying: hold firm, hold firm...
After breaking through the three-man press on the right, Julien didn't immediately cut inside. Seeing the crowded center, he chose to accelerate straight toward the byline.
The beaten Mostefa and Lippini were furious. Tonight, their flank had become Julien's highway.
He went past whenever he wanted. Both made aggressive challenges, clearly going for fouls.
Julien didn't give them the chance. One acceleration and he was clear.
Defensive midfielder Faty and center-back Medjani quickly shifted to the flank, they didn't dare give Julien this much space.
The two united, trying to block Julien's cut inside.
However, the moment they moved, Julien immediately passed back to De Bruyne.
With Faty gone, De Bruyne's forward run was completely open.
"Hiss!"
Many in the crowd gasped, 'what a huge gap!'
'How was that defended?!'
After receiving the ball, De Bruyne quickly checked the keeper's position and shaped to shoot.
But it was a fake shot, De Bruyne played a through ball, finding Lukaku making a run into space.
A chance in the six-yard box!
Having just watched Julien's skills, and gradually getting into the match rhythm, Lukaku didn't take a touch. There was no wasted movement. He wound up and blasted it!
Whoosh!
The ball met no resistance, easily entering the net.
0-2.
Ajaccio trailed by two at home at halftime.
"Bastia!!"
The fifty-strong Bastia away section erupted.
After brief silence, Ajaccio fans resumed their support, determined to drown out Bastia.
If they couldn't win on the pitch, they'd win in the stands!
Lukaku copied Julien, pounding his chest badge. For a moment, he wanted to play for Bastia forever.
He loved it here.
Lukaku was soon surrounded by rushing teammates. He hugged De Bruyne and Julien.
"I scored, I scored..."
After celebrating with Lukaku, as Julien walked back to the center circle, he found Mané and told him, "I've drawn people to my right side. You need to find a way to finish on the left."
Mané nodded firmly.
As right winger, whether attracting defense or breaking through, Julien had indeed done everything possible.
But the left side hadn't produced much.
Though Mané wanted to say it was because opponents sat deep in positional play, not giving him space to use his speed advantage, after seeing Julien's performance, he couldn't say it.
"0-2! Ajaccio really can't stop Bastia's attacking group."
The TF1 commentator's tone was excited. "This is the power of the youth storm! This match, Ajaccio hasn't even tested Kanté, who's been playing well recently. These Bastia youngsters truly make us look forward to their future. Let's hope they use better performances to make the world listen to their story of youthful fame!"
At Stade Ange Casanova, on the sideline, veteran coach Dupont stood without much reaction.
As an old-school coach, he held firm to his understanding of football, but this match exceeded his comprehension.
In his view, a player defended by three men would struggle to create scoring chances.
But tonight, Julien had brutally told him with one goal and one assist: "Old man, you might be behind the times."
The match continued.
"Ahh!"
Faty suddenly cried out and collapsed.
Sidibé played a long diagonal pass looking for Julien. Faty and Julien competed for the header with constant contact. Julien didn't jump, at an angle the referee couldn't see, he pressed hard on Faty's pressure point.
Faty winced in pain and lost power, his jump collapsed halfway.
He missed the ball.
Julien controlled it with his back to goal. Faty fell from him to the ground.
The referee didn't call a foul.
The Play was on.
Mostefa came flying in with a tackle. Julien quickly moved the ball aside and jumped to avoid the slide.
But Mostefa's leg still caught Julien's foot.
Julien lost balance in midair and fell. As he landed, he accidentally landed on Mostefa's stomach.
Julien clutched his ankle.
Whistle!
The referee awarded Bastia a free kick.
Rothen and De Bruyne went to check on Julien.
Julien shook his head. After a quick rub, he got up grimacing.
Meanwhile, both Mostefa and Faty lay on the ground.
One clutching his waist, one his stomach.
The physios rushed about.
There was another free kick.
Today Julien and Mané had already won seven set pieces for Bastia.
This was the eighth.
If only Lukaku's heading were reliable, they might have scored another.
Rothen and De Bruyne stood over the ball.
After raising their arms to teammates, Rothen made a dummy run while De Bruyne curled the ball into the box.
The ball's arc favored the attacking runners.
This kind of ball, once headed properly, easily resulted in goals!
But De Bruyne's delivery was too close to the keeper. Ochoa came out and punched it clear with one fist.
He was just too short, if he were taller, he could have caught it cleanly.
With Lukaku interfering, Ochoa couldn't generate full power on his punch.
It went high but not far.
The ball dropped near the penalty area line where Julien had pushed forward.
He quickly turned his back and launched himself into the air.
In midair, he set his position and struck with control, executing a bicycle kick.
Whoosh!
When they saw Julien set himself, Ajaccio fans knew it was coming.
But what shocked them, even filled them with despair was that the ball flew straight for the top corner!
Swoosh!
The ball hit the net. 0-3.
Ochoa's eyes widened. He'd seen clearly, when Julien executed the bicycle kick, it wasn't purely instinctive but deliberately aimed at the corner.
Ochoa stood rooted to the spot, marveling internally at that midair adjustment ability.
In London:
"Julien!!"
Chataigner was beside himself with excitement, pumping his fist as if he were a fan at the stadium.
Watching the celebrating Bastia players on screen, Chataigner was fired up. He turned to Damian and shouted:
"Dibu, see?! This is Bastia, this is Julien De Rocca! Come with us to conquer Ligue 1, to conquer Europe!!"
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