Whoosh!
Against the backdrop of Bilbao's keeper diving in textbook fashion, the ball slipped into the net, sending white spray flying.
"GOAL!"
"Three-nil!"
"What a thunderous strike!"
"Su Hang! A wonder goal from Real Madrid's captain, Su Hang!"
"Su Hang finally scores!"
"Who would've thought, faced with two defenders pressing him, he'd charge straight at them?"
"That Elastico—are you sure I'm not watching Ronaldinho?"
"A brilliant one-vs-two move!!"
"Even with teammates like Cassano, Baptista, and Zidane up ahead, Su Hang clearly felt the moment was right. He pulled the trigger from distance, completely catching the Bilbao keeper off guard!"
"Such bold decisions often bring harsh criticism if they fail. Many young players hesitate in fear of that."
"Su Hang showed signs of that hesitation earlier this season, but he seems to have overcome it!"
"One assist and one goal—Su Hang's form is returning. Has he finally adapted to Real Madrid's new system?"
Real Madrid erupted in celebration.
With a 3-0 lead in this match and a 1-0 advantage from the first leg, Bilbao would need four unanswered goals. Otherwise, Madrid were firmly headed to the Copa del Rey quarterfinals.
After the celebrations, Simon made a substitution.
Figo replaced Zidane, who had already provided an assist.
Zidane once again shone brilliantly today, the unquestioned leader of the team.
But the sweat pouring off him showed he had already given his all.
With Figo on the pitch, Madrid shifted to a different rhythm—his dribbling and directness creating new threats and guiding the flow of play.
...
65th minute.
David Beckham threaded a pass through the right channel.
Antonio Cassano sprinted wide, using his burst of speed and aggression to reach the ball.
He wasn't blisteringly quick, but compared to Su Hang, he looked like a racehorse.
Thud!
Cassano, pinned near the byline with no clear chance, laid the ball back.
Figo arrived and swung in a cross from the right edge of the box.
The ball ricocheted off a Bilbao defender's body before the keeper collected it.
Figo, Cassano, and others threw up their hands, appealing for a handball.
The referee shook his head—it wasn't.
Cassano stormed over furiously to protest and was immediately shown a yellow card.
Su Hang then approached to discuss it calmly, with the referee explaining his decision.
...
71st minute.
Figo sliced through the midfield and slipped a pass forward. Cassano received it but was hacked down, winning a free kick.
But instead of walking away, Cassano jumped up and charged at the defender, forehead to forehead.
Bilbao's style had always been rough—big tackles, heavy fouls.
When you face them, you must be prepared.
Above all, you cannot lose your temper.
Once you let them drag you into their kind of fight, you're finished.
Cassano had clearly lost his cool.
And he already had a yellow card.
Madrid players rushed to pull him back.
Simon signaled for a substitution from the sideline.
The referee gave Cassano a stern warning but no second yellow.
Madrid then replaced him with Raúl.
Cassano had played well, but he was furious.
He felt he was in form—why take him off? Even if Su Hang were subbed instead, why him?
At the very least, they could've waited until after he took the free kick.
Su Hang: ???
Beckham: ???
Even Figo seemed puzzled, realizing why Cassano had been so upset about that earlier handball.
He probably thought he'd get to take the penalty too?
This kid...
A wild little wolf.
Ten seconds later, the Bernabéu erupted.
Beckham unleashed his trademark free kick, cutting Bilbao down where they stood.
A direct goal!
"GOAL! Four-nil! Real Madrid are back!"
"They've found their rhythm again!"
"Free kicks have become Beckham's most reliable weapon! He hits them like penalties!"
"It's been a long time since Real Madrid won this big!"
"Finding form now isn't too late—they still have a chance to climb back in the league!"
...
76th minute.
Madrid used their final substitution.
Guti came on for Beckham.
Beckham accepted it with understanding.
If not for the looming World Cup, though, he probably wouldn't have. His peak years were numbered, and every extra minute on the pitch was precious.
Such is the reality of a World Cup year.
...
82nd minute.
Madrid's attack pressed on.
Figo cut through the center, beating Bilbao's holding midfielder before flicking the ball ahead.
Su Hang suddenly accelerated, activating his Wind Chaser effect.
He outpaced the center-back and drove into the box.
But another defender stepped up to challenge him head-on.
Su Hang caught the ball, pulled it back, and flicked it over the defender's shin.
But the defender clipped Su Hang's leg in the process.
Beep!
The referee blew for a penalty and showed the defender a yellow card.
"Penalty! Su Hang wins it!"
"Yes, no question about that call, even if Bilbao's players try to argue."
"Su Hang looks braver tonight."
"The fearless Su Hang is back!"
"Daring to fight, daring to charge, daring to shine—that's Su!"
Su Hang placed the ball on the spot.
He touched his captain's armband and began his run-up.
Thud!
A firm strike, straight down the middle!
Not a Panenka, but Su Hang knew the keeper would dive.
And with a 4-0 cushion, he had nothing to fear.
It was a bold gamble.
And it paid off.
The Bilbao keeper launched himself full stretch, never expecting Su Hang to shoot straight down the middle. He never even considered it.
The ball slammed into the back of the net.
"GOAL! Straight down the middle! A daring penalty from Su Hang!"
"Zidane smiles on the bench—it's as if Su Hang paid tribute to him!"
Su Hang sprinted toward the bench.
Simon grinned from ear to ear. My Su really honored me, celebrating with me so grandly!
"Thank you, Zidane! You're incredible!" Su Hang bypassed Simon and wrapped Zidane in a tight hug.
Zidane returned the embrace, smiling, "I only spoke simple truths anyone could see. But you— you've actually lived them out."
"You're the incredible one!"
Simon stood awkwardly nearby.
His arms wide open.
Yet his hug remained empty.
Two men embraced—while three arms stretched outward.
Who could possibly understand that feeling?