Second half.
When the fans realized Real Madrid had shifted into a defensive setup, they showered them with deafening boos.
"The mighty Real Madrid, actually parking the bus?"
"So this is La Liga's so-called technical football? What an eye-opener!"
"What a brilliant 'tactical masterclass'—so tell me, which league is really the rough one, La Liga or the Premier League?"
"Cowards, Real Madrid!"
"Just wait! Our forwards will rip apart their paper-thin defense. And our backline will make Su Hang feel completely isolated in this forest of muscle!"
58th minute.
Luis García tried a long-range strike from distance.
Casillas made a heroic save, clutching the ball securely.
That effort lit the spark for a storm of Liverpool attacks.
65th minute.
Morientes drove a low shot from the edge of the area, splitting Madrid's defense.
Casillas flung himself across, stretching out one hand to deflect the ball wide for a corner.
67th minute.
Real Madrid's defensive midfielder García brought down Gerrard and was shown a yellow.
Liverpool responded with a substitution—John Arne Riise came on for Stephen Warnock, a straight left-back swap.
But unlike Warnock, Riise carried a serious attacking threat. His thunderous shots were feared across Europe.
71st minute.
Barely minutes on the pitch, Riise unleashed one of his cannons, forcing yet another save from Casillas.
But "Saint Iker" was unshaken, preserving Madrid's lead.
"Casillas has been everywhere—catching, blocking, diving—he's been Real Madrid's best player tonight."
"Without him, Liverpool would already have scored two, maybe more!"
72nd minute.
Real Madrid were struggling and made a proactive change.
Thomas Gravesen came on for Guti, who himself had only entered from the bench earlier.
It was an unusual substitution—being subbed off after coming on is a harsh blow for any player.
But coach Simon spoke with Guti afterward, hoping he'd understand the decision. Defensively, García—despite being on a yellow—was more suited to stay.
To his credit, Guti accepted it.
Another change followed: Robinho replaced Raúl.
But Robinho didn't drop into Raúl's attacking midfielder role. Instead, Su Hang moved back there.
Robinho pushed up top, poised to strike.
Though he couldn't serve as the team's pivot like Su Hang, his blistering pace gave Madrid a dangerous counterattacking edge.
This, however, shifted the burden onto Su Hang.
Could he handle the responsibility of playmaker?
Meanwhile, Liverpool made their own changes: Peter Crouch replaced Harry Kewell, and Cissé moved out wide on the left. Their attack only grew stronger.
77th minute.
Steve Finnan broke down the flank and crossed low.
Pavón reacted quickly, heading clear.
But Gerrard collected it outside the box, shaping for a shot before laying it off sideways.
From deep, Xabi Alonso unleashed a thunderbolt.
Casillas, brilliant all night, was only human.
Some shots simply can't be stopped.
Whoosh!
The ball rocketed into the top corner.
Anfield erupted!
"GOAL!"
"Xabi… Alonso!"
Nearly 50,000 voices roared his name in unison.
"One–one! Liverpool have equalized!"
"And with three away goals, they've pushed Real Madrid back to the brink! They're the ones closer to advancing now!"
"Liverpool's target is still the Champions League trophy. Could they actually defend their crown?"
The news raced across wires worldwide.
On the pitch, Liverpool celebrated wildly—so long that Su Hang had to remind the referee.
The referee stepped in, cutting the party short, and play resumed.
79th minute.
Gravesen played the ball into Su Hang.
He looked around. Behind him stood only Robinho. The rest of his teammates were still deep in their own half, offering no attacking support.
As Su Hang pondered his next move, Carragher stepped up hard from behind, putting pressure on him and forcing a heavy touch.
Alonso swooped in to steal, sparking another Liverpool counter.
Without Zidane or Figo, Real Madrid had no true playmaker.
No one!
Bang!
In a crucial moment, Baptista slid in with a tackle, regained possession, and shifted it sideways to Beckham.
"David!"
Su Hang called for it again, higher up the pitch.
Beckham, under pressure, couldn't safely play it back.
Instead, he launched a long ball toward Su Hang.
Su Hang fixed on it, feeling Carragher's presence closing in.
A sharp glint flashed in his eyes.
"Oi, your first touch isn't great, is it? Don't you know a playmaker needs perfect control?" Carragher taunted, trash talk meant to rattle him.
"Yes," Su Hang replied coolly. "That's why I don't plan to control it."
He braced, pressing his back into Carragher.
Carragher, crafty as ever, leaned back to bait him.
It was the classic "chair trick"—let the striker shove into thin air and topple.
But Su Hang wasn't trying to smash into him.
He was storing energy.
Carragher had misread it.
Bang!
Su Hang popped up slightly.
The ball hit his chest cleanly—controlled.
He half-turned, flicked his toe, and chipped the ball forward—
Figo's flick-over dribble!
Carragher's sightline was blocked at first—he thought Su Hang was heading the ball backward.
But when he saw the half-turn, he realized the kid wasn't passing.
Then came the flick.
Carragher lunged to intercept, but the ball skipped over his shin.
He quickly planted his leg, spinning off it to recover.
At the same time, he shoved at Su Hang with both hands.
This kid—he's really going to take me on?
Does he think I'm slow?
But Su Hang brushed his arms aside, breaking free to chase the ball.
Now only Hyypiä stood between him and Dudek.
Su Hang caught up, his left leg sliding over the ball, body surging past, while his right foot dragged it forward.
On the bench, Figo—his leg wrapped in ice—suddenly stood.
His pupils shrank.
This kid!
That's…
A drag-push past the right?
Hyypiä anticipated the move.
But in a flash, Su Hang's right foot shifted, angling left.
Both ball and foot flashed past Hyypiä's right side.
Which meant—Su Hang had chosen the left!
With one crossover, he was half a body ahead.
Through!
Not entirely, but enough.
By the time Hyypiä turned to recover,
Su Hang's left foot was already striking the ball.
The left-footed prodigy.
The Golden Left Foot!
...
(35 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser