"Beautiful!"
"Owen!"
"Zidane's pass was absolutely sublime!"
"Owen didn't let Real Madrid down! He calmly finished the one-on-one!"
"One-nil! Real Madrid take the lead away from home! They temporarily move three points clear of Barcelona and rise to the top of La Liga!"
"As long as Barcelona don't score, Real Madrid will..."
"Oh! Bad news from Camp Nou."
"Almost at the same moment as Owen's goal, Real Madrid's nemesis Eto'o found the net as well."
"That puts Real Madrid and Barcelona level on points again."
"But Barcelona hold a three-goal advantage in goal difference, taking them closer to the title."
"My God! Two goals in five minutes! Ronaldinho is simply unstoppable! Two-nil! Barça extend their lead!"
"Their goal difference advantage over Real Madrid is now four!"
"Real Madrid may have scored here, but the gap with Barcelona has only widened!"
"Oh! Zaragoza aren't giving Real Madrid any more chances. They're sitting deep, determined not to let Madrid run up a big win."
"Halftime whistle! Real Madrid gave everything, but they came up short."
"Unless Madrid score five unanswered goals in the second half, and Barcelona don't score again, this season's La Liga title belongs to Barcelona!"
"And both of those scenarios are practically impossible."
...
At halftime, media outlets everywhere weighed in on the situation.
Barcelona not scoring in the second half?
Highly unlikely.
Ronaldinho and Eto'o are simply too dangerous.
Real Madrid scoring five goals in the second half?
Even less likely.
One or two goals, maybe. But five?
Come on, this is football.
Even three goals already counts as a thrashing.
Soon, sensational headlines started pouring in.
AS: "Camp Nou preparing champagne to celebrate the league title! Rumors say the dressing room has already ordered a bottle to toast in advance!"
Sky Sports: "Barcelona rubbing salt into AC Milan's wounds? Sure, Liverpool overturned a three-goal deficit in Istanbul, but there's no way Real Madrid can pull off a five-goal comeback at La Romareda!"
Gazzetta dello Sport: "The Catalans are ruthless—kicking Milan while they're down, and stabbing Real Madrid too!"
France Football: "Barça midfielders pop champagne again! Determined to prove they're scarier than any curse!"
Sport: "Cheers, Madrid! Hurry and salute the champions!"
Marca: "Barça show no mercy, lacking the grace of a true giant—acting like they've never won a title before!"
...
The second half began.
By the 60th minute, nothing had changed.
A frustrated Luxemburgo substituted an ineffective Beckham for Guti.
Against opponents camped in their own box, Beckham's trademark curling crosses should have been deadly.
But without a target man up front, Madrid's endless crosses only fueled Zaragoza's counterattacks.
At the same time, Luxemburgo sent on Soldado for Solari, pushing him into the center forward role, with Raúl and Owen moved wide as supporting strikers.
Real Madrid shifted from a 4-4-2 to a 4-3-3.
The frontline now carried more firepower.
But if the plan was to strengthen the attack, Beckham shouldn't have been sacrificed—Gravesen should have gone off instead.
Madrid desperately needed goals. What use was a holding midfielder now?
The truth was simple.
Luxemburgo was still afraid of being punished on the counter.
If Madrid finished level on points with Barça but lost the title on goal difference, it would be bad luck—a lack of attacking punch.
But if Madrid conceded on a counterattack and fell behind Barça on points, that would be pure managerial incompetence—failing to even guarantee three points.
So how was Luxemburgo supposed to choose?
It was like having a knife at his throat, yet still haggling over pennies.
The hallmark of a cautious manager.
But maybe even the heavens couldn't stand it anymore.
In the 63rd minute, Gravesen collided with an opponent and went down injured.
Madrid had to use their final substitution.
Luxemburgo called Celades to warm up.
But Su Hang stepped forward. "My injection has taken effect. I can play."
Luxemburgo shook his head. "But you're not a defensive midfielder."
As Su Hang rose, fans thought he was about to come on.
The Madrid supporters erupted in cheers.
Su Hang answered, "Do you really think the fans want to see a defensive midfielder right now?"
Simon shouted from the sideline. "Before we left today, Mr. Florentino said he wanted to see a Real Madrid team full of fighting spirit."
"And I believe sending on a striker shows a lot more fighting spirit than bringing on another holding midfielder!"
Luxemburgo's expression shifted.
Maybe Simon was bluffing.
But Florentino always cared about Madrid's momentum.
"Put me in," Su Hang told the assistant coach by the fourth official.
The assistant hesitated and looked at Luxemburgo.
The coach reluctantly nodded.
The substitution board went up.
Real Madrid substitution.
Gravesen off.
Number 24, Su Hang, on.
"Su!"
"It's Su! He's really coming on—he took the injection!"
"Su is here!"
"Real Madrid! Real Madrid! Real Madrid!"
The stadium erupted.
The fans roared in unison, pushing Su Hang forward.
The reporter analyzed: "With Su Hang coming on, Madrid might actually end up defending more."
"Soldado and Su Hang as twin strikers, Raúl and Guti pushed wide, Zidane and Guti in central midfield..."
"That's practically a 4-2-4 formation!"
"Madrid are going all out now!"
But another voice warned: "Neither Zidane nor Guti are natural holding midfielders—especially defensively."
"That leaves Zaragoza wide open to strike on the counter."
"This is dangerous."
"No matter how many goals Madrid score up front, if they concede at the back, it's worthless."
"A 5-3 win counts the same as a 2-0 defeat."
Su Hang knew it too.
Attacking football isn't just about piling on strikers.
Balance matters.
Su Hang dropped straight into the holding midfield role and gestured to his teammates.
Signaling that he'd play there.
The stadium buzzed in shock.
"What's going on? Su Hang's gone into midfield?"
"Su Hang as a holding midfielder?"
"Is this a joke? Su Hang is only a striker—his skill set is too limited!"
"Shouldn't Su Hang be scoring goals? Why put him back here?"
"Was this Luxemburgo's decision?"
"No! Luxemburgo looks just as confused—he's even shouting at Su Hang?"
Zidane also turned his eyes toward Su Hang.
...
(35 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser