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"This schedule makes me want to puke."
At the Castilla training ground, Cristiano Ronaldo came to the sidelines for a drink. He took a big gulp of electrolyte water from the bottle, swallowed a small portion, and gargled with the rest before spitting it out.
Cristiano Ronaldo, who always held his head high and looked radiant in front of others, had not a trace of a smile on his face recently.
If in the previous two seasons, there was still that determined, bitter look on his face, now it was gradually becoming numb.
Marcelo, in particular, felt this deeply, watching the proud, arrogant leader of the team have his spirit worn down by that Asian man.
"It's our home game. We won't lose again this time. If we lose again..."
"Stop talking."
Cristiano Ronaldo frowned, impatiently cutting off Marcelo's "oath."
What was the point?
In the end, he would still be defeated by that lucky kid.
He would work hard for 90 minutes only for that kid to steal the limelight, and he would become a background character.
He was 31 years old; he had to admit he was getting old.
Cristiano Ronaldo, who had just celebrated his 31st birthday, felt the unwillingness in his eyes fade, replaced by a growing sense of resignation.
"Ronaldo, it's not that bad..."
Modrić still wanted to persuade him, but Cristiano Ronaldo just shook his head.
"Logically, for a striker, around 29 is the golden age for physique and experience, which was 2014."
Thinking of this, Cristiano Ronaldo's eyes were full of regret.
"That year, we were truly just one step away from the championship. When I walked onto the pitch for the final, I could even touch the Champions League trophy next to me."
What a pity.
In that Champions League semi-final, although they eliminated Bayer Leverkusen, Real Madrid was severely depleted.
Alonso and many other key players were unable to play, and Atlético Madrid ultimately snatched the trophy in the final.
Their city rival winning the championship was a huge blow to the Real Madrid players.
"Ronaldo, the responsibility is mine."
Ramos sighed deeply.
If he had been calmer in the semi-final and hadn't fouled Lance, earning a yellow card and a cumulative suspension...
Perhaps in the final, he could have found an opportunity to score for Real Madrid.
As long as it went into extra time, Real Madrid could definitely defeat Atlético Madrid and win the championship.
Everything, absolutely everything, was disrupted by the dark horse Bayer Leverkusen, which completely messed up the Champions League landscape that season.
Real Madrid had fallen short every time since 2013, and ultimately, it could all be blamed on Lance.
Sometimes Ramos even wondered if this guy was sent by God to torment Real Madrid.
Why was it always Real Madrid that suffered?
Especially this month, after being eliminated from the Copa del Rey, they faced each other again in the league.
If they lost this league match, Real Madrid's title contention would once again become passive, falling to third place, meaning they would be further and further away from the La Liga title.
Both the Copa del Rey and the La Liga title were missed because of Lance.
Ramos was truly fed up.
Seeing Ramos's conflicted expression, Cristiano Ronaldo, who was the most emotionally bruised, instead patted his shoulder to comfort him.
"Sergio."
"What?"
"It's meaningless now."
"Have you given up?"
The Real Madrid players around him all felt a bit disheartened.
If even Cristiano Ronaldo, the most driven player and the team's benchmark, had given up, then what was the point of them continuing to fight?
Just as Modrić, Bale, Casemiro, Kroos, and others lowered their heads, Cristiano Ronaldo suddenly chuckled softly.
"That's not what I mean."
"Then what is it?"
"Instead of dwelling on past grudges, regrets, or this guy Lance, we should focus on playing every upcoming match well."
"That's true, but..."
Ramos didn't know why, but he was full of anger, even redirecting it towards Cristiano Ronaldo.
"What you're saying is even more meaningless. Everyone knows we need to win, but how do we win? Tell me."
"I just want to say, don't be too emotional. Remember the first leg of the Copa del Rey semi-final?"
"What about it?"
"Regardless of Lance's equaliser, at least for most of the match, didn't we play very smoothly?"
"Indeed."
Modrić nodded.
During the period when Real Madrid equalised 1-1 and then led 2-1, they felt invincible, continuously threatening Atlético Madrid's goal and almost overwhelming them.
Everything they tried worked!
Atlético Madrid, on the other hand, perhaps had their mentality disrupted and continuously missed opportunities.
Modrić even thought that match would surely be a win, but in the end, Lance turned the tide.
"My point is simple: when we had the advantage, didn't we not think about anything else, just focusing our energy on football?"
"It seems so."
Bale also came to his senses.
Although he secretly didn't quite respect Cristiano Ronaldo and always wanted to compete with him for the position of Real Madrid's leader, it was undeniable that Cristiano Ronaldo had his own charm.
No matter how many times he lost, he always got back up to fight again, like a Saint Seiya from a Japanese manga, an unkillable cockroach.
You could defeat him, but you couldn't destroy him.
Cristiano Ronaldo, who was flashy, loved the spotlight, enjoyed pressuring teammates, had abundant tabloid news, and liked to be the boss, always had a pure desire for victory.
31 years old?
Perhaps for other strikers, this was the age of gradual retirement.
For Cristiano Ronaldo, it was the age to fight!
"Ronaldo."
Bale looked into Cristiano Ronaldo's eyes seriously for the first time.
"Were you a little shaken just now?"
"Yes," Cristiano Ronaldo smiled, "but I've figured it out now."
"That fast?"
"Figuring it out happens in an instant. What I want to say is... amigos! Every game is a new beginning. I still believe in you, so please believe in me too."
"..."
Modrić, Bale, Benzema, Ramos, Navas, and others exchanged glances.
They felt Cristiano Ronaldo was being a bit eccentric; he was depressed just a moment ago, and in less than a second, he was suddenly back to full energy.
But did it matter? It didn't seem that important.
Cristiano Ronaldo was still Cristiano Ronaldo.
"Why not?"
Modrić spoke first, shrugging his shoulders with a simple smile.
"I chose to come to Real Madrid, of course I believe in you, and I believe in my brothers."
"Exactly, me too."
"Me too..."
They were all superstars, the lineup was so strong.
After losing so many times, there had to be a time to win, right?
If not this game, then the next game, as long as the team was still there, there was always a chance!
On the other side, Zidane, having finished his meeting with the coaching staff, hurried over, intending to do some psychological work with the team.
Zidane had prepared his speech for a long time.
He even wanted to share the deepest pain in his heart, the 2006 World Cup final, with the guys to let them know it was no big deal.
Real Madrid was truly strong; as long as everyone worked together, why couldn't they defeat Lance?
After preparing for a long time and standing in front of the team, Zidane found that the Real Madrid players seemed to... have a light in their eyes again.
"WTF?"
Zidane had his hands in his pockets.
I prepared for so long, and now you're telling me I prepared for nothing?
"Coach!"
Cristiano Ronaldo saw Zidane, raised his hand, and greeted him loudly.
"Should we do another extra training session? The tactical coordination doesn't seem smooth enough."
"Yes, I think we could practise set pieces a bit more. Atlético Madrid's defence is quite tough, so set pieces are a good opportunity."
Modrić also suggested.
"Coach, do you have any arrangements? I don't feel tired yet!"
Ramos grinned, a grim smile on his face.
Zidane had his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath.
"Alright, then we'll train for another hour! The game is the day after tomorrow. Do you want to win the championship?"
"Yes!"
"Let's get to it! ¡Vamos! ¡Vamos!"
Meanwhile, dozens of kilometres from the Castilla training ground, in the same city, at Atlético Madrid's training ground.
Lance, who was training with the team, suddenly felt his right eyelid twitch.
"What's going on? Left eye jumps for wealth, right eye jumps for disaster... Is this a bad omen?"
"The next game is Real Madrid... Could it be?"
Lance felt that he had already captured Real Madrid multiple times in a row, comparable to Zhuge Liang's seven captures of Meng Huo.
Meng Huo should surrender by now, right? Now he could just sweep them away with one click.
Could there still be variables?
Real Madrid hadn't given up yet? Could Cristiano Ronaldo still make a comeback?
"Lance, what's wrong?"
His midfield teammate Koke looked at Lance and couldn't help but ask.
"Nothing."
Lance's lips curved into a faint smile.
Interesting!
He wasn't afraid of Real Madrid being strong, only afraid of them giving up.
True high-level competition was what was interesting!
Since that was the case,
"Let's continue our grand battle for three hundred more rounds!"