Bang!
At the crucial moment, Real Madrid's center back, the underrated Helguera, launched into a decisive sliding tackle, poking the ball away just before Trezeguet could take control.
For years, fans had been unhappy with Real Madrid's shaky backline. But ever since Makélélé's departure, Helguera had practically carried Real Madrid's defense on his own. Madrid's results over the past two seasons hadn't been ideal, but without him, things would have been far worse. His strength had been severely underestimated—and today, he was proving it once again.
After clearing the ball, Helguera immediately sprang up, chased it down, and completely shut down Trezeguet.
Bang!
He sent the ball to the retreating Guti.
Guti turned and unleashed a direct through ball—sharp as a surgeon's scalpel.
The Demon Knife!
"This is… a counterattack! Real Madrid are countering Juventus's counter!"
"Danger! Juventus's midfield is wide open!"
"Guti's pass has sliced Juventus right through the middle!"
"Figo's on the ball! A feint—then a sudden burst of speed!"
"Is he going to take on Camoranesi?"
"Another feint! No—he plays it sideways! He's out of energy!"
Figo couldn't push forward anymore. Otherwise, he would have tried to break through himself and shoot. But now, he could only pass to the one man he trusted most—Su Hang!
Emerson immediately stepped up to block him.
Su Hang received the ball and, without hesitation, made a move so bold even he surprised himself.
Bang!
He pushed the ball ten meters ahead.
Emerson froze.
What was this?
He's going to take him on head-to-head—pure speed!
"Oh! Did Su Hang miscontrol that?"
"How could he make such a mistake at such a crucial moment?"
"Wait! No mistake—he's sprinting after it! He's actually going to take on Emerson?"
"My God, Su Hang's guts are unbelievable! He wants to beat Emerson purely with speed?"
"Sure, Su Hang is a striker, but most media see him as more of a target forward—he's not exactly quick."
"And Emerson may be a defensive midfielder, but he's fast! With Brazilian players, you can't judge speed and skill just by their position!"
"Su Hang is underestimating Emerson, one of the best holding midfielders in the world! He's going to pay for this!"
Su Hang had come on as a substitute and still had plenty of energy left. But Emerson's stamina was also top-notch. Nobody believed Su Hang could take him on directly…
Whoosh!
Emerson didn't even have time to grab at him—Su Hang blew past in a flash.
For a split second, Emerson was stunned.
Wait… Real Madrid brought on Owen?
That speed—wasn't it Owen?
No, it wasn't Owen.
It was Owen's Chasing the Wind!
In the final five minutes of each match, Su Hang had one chance to trigger the Chasing the Wind special effect.
This was the moment he had been waiting for!
"He's past him? What kind of terrifying speed is this? Is Su Hang really that fast?"
"My God! He just left Emerson for dead in an instant! Too fast!"
"The substitute Su Hang is bursting with energy!"
"He's past Emerson!"
"Tacchinardi is closing across to help, but he's already too late!"
"Unbelievable! Su Hang didn't even adjust his run—he just burned past Tacchinardi as well!"
"One heavy touch, one explosive burst—Su Hang has torn through two of Juventus's defensive pillars!"
Cannavaro charged forward.
The last line of defense.
He closed in quickly—if not, Su Hang would be free to shoot from the edge of the box. And that would be dangerous. No Juventus player dared underestimate him—he was Real Madrid's deadliest weapon right now.
Since joining Juventus, Cannavaro's reputation had soared. Fans constantly debated whether he, Maldini, or Nesta was the best defender in Serie A. Some still doubted him because of his height, but that only highlighted his strength.
Bang!
Before Cannavaro could fully close, Su Hang pushed the ball forward again and drove at him head-on.
Full speed.
No hesitation.
A straight duel!
But just as they were about to collide, Su Hang suddenly leapt.
A vision flashed in Cannavaro's mind—
Ronaldo's legendary heel flick!
Cannavaro spun, raising his arm.
Su Hang shifted instantly.
But incredibly, Cannavaro kept stride, matching him step for step.
As expected of a world-class center back—no ordinary trick could shake him.
But then—
Bang!
Su Hang nudged the ball deeper into the box.
The heel flick had triggered Chasing the Wind once more!
Cannavaro's eyes widened.
"He's accelerating again! After the heel flick, he's exploding forward once more!"
"My God! That kind of burst?"
"Su Hang's frame is bigger than Cannavaro's. With equal power, his acceleration shouldn't match Cannavaro's! And Cannavaro has the inside track—Su Hang is running further!"
"Su Hang! Su Hang! He's past him!"
"He's beaten Cannavaro!"
"Cannavaro grabbed at him, but Su Hang brushed him aside!"
"The referee's whistle is in his mouth—Cannavaro's move could easily be called a foul!"
"And inside the penalty box! Figo's right next to the referee, pointing it out!"
"But the ref signals advantage—Su Hang still has the ball under control!"
"Too honest! If he had gone down, it would have been a penalty!"
"He just missed his best chance!"
Most would say a penalty is the best scoring opportunity. But not everyone agrees.
The moment Su Hang broke past Cannavaro, Italy's number one goalkeeper could wait no longer.
Buffon charged out!
Because of Su Hang's heavy touch, the ball had rolled deep into the box. If Cannavaro had held him back even slightly, Buffon would have gotten there first. But even Buffon hadn't expected Cannavaro to be beaten so cleanly.
This striker was too fast!
Buffon surged forward with everything he had. He was closer to the ball, but Su Hang was accelerating even faster.
In the end, Buffon gave up on reaching the ball first. Instead, he spread himself wide—arms and legs outstretched—to cover as much of the goal as possible.
He was barely over a meter from the ball. Su Hang had almost no angle to shoot from. That was the whole point of a goalkeeper charging out.
But—
Bang!
Su Hang didn't wait to set up a powerful strike. Instead, as he reached the ball, he suddenly lengthened his stride and stabbed at it with his foot.
That tiny adjustment in step created the perfect timing gap.
Half a beat faster than Buffon could react.
...
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