Chapter 71: It's Not That I Can't Devour Them — It's That a Batigol Goal Is More Cost-Effective
The match continued!
Tottenham began to struggle desperately — whether man or beast, in those do-or-die moments strength is greatest.
Tottenham was the same; they seemed injected with adrenaline and pressed all over the pitch.
Xia Qi and his teammates knew the next phase would test whether Arsenal really were a strong team: get through this and they could still tussle with Real and Barça in the Champions League; fail and they'd just stay quietly in the Premier League, accepting being "the fourth lord."
Thud!
Bang!
Close-up microphones carried the sounds of physical collisions across the stadium,
making the skin prickle while pumping blood through the veins!
On the pitch,
Xia Qi had just received the ball when Emmanuel Adebayor came charging in like a man on fire.
Xia Qi wanted to evade, but the AI wouldn't allow it!
You can duck the 1st but not the 15th —
the AI chose to stand and fight!
He shielded the ball between his legs,
dropped his hips, braced his stance,
like a towering cliff facing the pounding waves.
"Boom!"
A muffled thunder!
Adebayor was sent flying.
Adebayor was one of the players Arsenal fans hated most; seeing him fall in such a state,
the Arsenal stands erupted.
Many fans leapt to their feet; more than half the male fans immediately tore off their shirts and waved them overhead, and a few female fans produced little bras from nowhere and waved them fiercely… ("nai" is used here as a noun)
No wonder single men always cluster around female fans…
On the pitch:
Xia Qi, who had sent Adebayor flying, calmly dribbled the ball forward.
Gareth Bale ran two steps at Xia Qi but got a glare from the AI and changed direction, charging into Tottenham's box and leaving Xia Qi to a teammate.
Dembélé and Scott Parker charged in to double-team Xia Qi; being down a man, Tottenham's disadvantage widened.
Arsenal fans' shouts of "Eat those two!" echoed above the pitch.
Parker and Dembélé shivered at the roar and quickly shifted from a two-man squeeze to one pressing and one dropping for cover.
As they changed shape, the AI made the choice: the ball went to Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain.
Chamberlain cut in from the left; Theo Walcott and Jan Vertonghen slammed the door.
Eager to score again, Chamberlain ignored the unmarked Lukas Podolski in the middle and forced a shot; the ball struck Vertonghen's arm.
Chamberlain and Walcott didn't immediately track back but ran to the referee to demand a penalty.
"Handball!"
"Handball!"
"Penalty!"
The referee ignored them and signaled play on.
"Ref you're bought!"
"Pffft…"
Arsenal fans were furious…
The wily Vertonghen launched an ultra-long pass; the ball flew from his back line toward Arsenal's box.
The AI controlling Xia Qi had him sprint back toward his own penalty area at the moment of Vertonghen's pass.
Bale received on Arsenal's right (Tottenham's left), cut inside immediately, and Bacary Sagna and Thomas Vermaelen organized to block.
Vermaelen's eyelid had been twitching while he moved out; when Bale tricked him into sacrificing his balance and slipped the ball to the middle,
he finally understood why his eyelid had twitched.
Sure enough,
in the middle, Adebayor charged like a tank — with Mertesacker like a mantis before a car!
"Foul!"
"Foul!"
Arsenal fans lost their composure; the word "foul" even broke their tone.
But the referee sprinted forward and pointed ahead — the attack stood.
"Ref you're paid!"
"You're a shitty ref!"
"Pffft…"
The louder Arsenal fans booed, the more fuel went into Adebayor's engine.
André Santos was the last line in front of his keeper; he gritted his teeth and rushed out.
But Adebayor wasn't a simple brawny big man — he gently nudged the ball past Santos's supporting foot and then slid beyond Santos, leaving some distance to the keeper.
Mannone faced a dilemma.
At the same moment his body shifted and he, like a fish in water, slipped past Santos.
In an instant, Santos' eyes went blank:
It's over!
He's gone past!
"Danger!"
"Adebayor, one-on-one!"
On the broadcast a figure sprinted in.
His back number was "9"!
"Xia Qi!"
Some of the emotional Arsenal fans were already in tears.
You can always trust Xia Qi — he is like a shaft of light in the dark.
As Adebayor brushed past Santos, Xia Qi slid in low!
He took both man and ball down with the tackle!
"Ah!"
A cry of pain;
Adebayor clutched his right leg and writhed on the ground.
Xia Qi saw two tears hanging at the corner of his eye and was stunned.
The AI had been running for two-plus years, and Xia Qi had never seen it miscalculate.
The AI has no emotions — it surely wouldn't deliberately injure, contrary to fans' imaginations.
Those watching the live broadcast had an advantage over the stadium crowd; the LED boards had delay.
Live viewers saw the slow-motion replay: Xia Qi first tackled the ball cleanly, then slid into Adebayor's supporting leg — the left.
Wait!
Adebayor was clutching his right leg and writhing!
Some eagle-eyed fans playing detective found the truth.
Then more fans found proof: Adebayor was peeking through his fingers at the referee, an acting job identical to some World Cup antics.
Damn!
Oscar-worthy actor!
The referee took the bait,
the whistle blew,
and pointed to the penalty spot!
His decision pleased nobody.
Tottenham: Xia Qi made a malicious tackle and should get a red card.
Referee: Xia Qi touched the ball first and withdrew his leg — no card.
Arsenal: Xia Qi got the ball first — great defending.
Referee: Xia Qi obstructed Adebayor's second opportunity in the box — penalty reasonable.
Zhang Lu, who's good at explaining the rules, calmly told viewers in the studio:
"This one certainly isn't a red card. Penalty? It's debatable."
"Such calls are micro-technical; there's little value in arguing them. It's the kind of call that can go either way. The referee manages and adjudicates at the macro level.
Arsenal lead by two and being given a penalty now doesn't hugely affect the match flow. In a last-gasp or draw situation, it might not have been given."
Adebayor had "earned" a penalty.
He took it himself and scored.
4:3!
Tottenham, like a cockroach that won't die, stubbornly reduced the deficit in the 82nd minute.
After scoring, Adebayor's bravado didn't stop; he sprinted a hundred meters to the Arsenal stand and made the "two" gesture.
Of course he wouldn't be welcomed, but he seemed to relish it.
Arsenal fans, angry, thought about that shaft of light and chanted his name: "Xia Qi! Xia Qi! Xia Qi!"
Adebayor looked toward Xia Qi and saw him standing at the center circle, expressionless, staring at Tottenham's goal. The heartfelt calls from Arsenal fans didn't move him.
The more that was so, the more Adebayor feared him.
He felt Xia Qi under the spotlight radiated a coldness all over; he shivered and when he remembered Xia Qi had thrown him and slid him down, he felt the image of four shining characters flash on Xia Qi's brow: You're finished.
Adebayor shrank his neck and ran back to his position; passing by Xia Qi he gave a flattering smile, but Xia Qi didn't even twitch — still looking ahead indifferently.
Adebayor's heart thumped; the left foot Xia Qi had tackled throbbed faintly.
It wasn't that Adebayor was a coward —
he was actually a tough guy who never feared the dirty hand on the pitch,
but he was afraid of someone like Xia Qi, who could lawfully, openly "retaliate" within the rules.
A dirty trick? He could meet trick with trick.
Someone like Xia Qi? He could only be on the losing end — he lacked the technique to strike back.
So he feared Xia Qi — it's his own foot, how could he not fear?
Beep!
Play resumed.
Just one goal difference made Tottenham crazier.
After Arteta kicked off, Tottenham immediately pressed like maniacs.
Arteta exchanged a wall pass with Xia Qi and passed to Podolski, but Vertonghen sneaked in from behind and poked the ball to Parker.
Xia Qi and Podolski both lunged left and right at Parker.
Parker released quickly; the ball found Moussa Dembélé and then Aaron Lennon.
The little donkey's speed was great as he advanced down Arsenal's left.
At the left corner of the penalty area, a big angled through-pass at 45 degrees.
Adebayor lunged a shot from mid-channel, was a beat late, the ball slid past his toe and toward the far post.
Although Adebayor missed, his shot had disrupted Arsenal's defenders.
Bale appeared at the right post, but Mannone was faster — he made a sharp "frog-save" and smothered the rolling ball under his body.
Bale, sprinting in, saw Mannone's save and immediately pulled his leg up to avoid kicking Mannone.
The Emirates roared applause.
A fan shouted: "Gareth, Tottenham doesn't deserve you — come to Arsenal!"
That was a sabotage attempt!
Bale's forehead crawled with a black line.
"Lennon with the pass!"
"Good ball!"
"Shot!"
"Close!"
"Bale!"
"Mannone! Mannone's crucial — on that alone he should start the next game."
"Arsenal escaped a crisis."
"Mannone!"
"Mannone, quick distribution — so clever."
On the pitch,
Mannone quickly stood and tossed the ball to Santi Cazorla; Cazorla controlled and slid the ball to Xia Qi's feet.
Arsenal fans immediately cheered: "Charge!"
"Eat them up!"
Even Zhan Jun in the broadcast joined in: "The one-dragon-per-game show is officially on — let's count how many he can eat this time."
Tottenham attacked and Arsenal countered; along this route Xia Qi could "eat" quite a few.
But the AI is cool-headed.
It chose the best option; amid the fans' cheers it fed the ball to Oxlade-Chamberlain at the near post.
Chamberlain instantly pushed forward.
Arsenal fans sighed in disappointment at first, then quickly cheered Chamberlain on.
Xia Qi accelerated through the middle to join the attack.
Tottenham's back line was short — only three defenders.
Two were sent to mark Chamberlain's burst,
the other covered Podolski in the middle.
This time Chamberlain didn't act rashly; he knew the break had to be "fast."
He was intercepted but didn't try to dribble past; instead he played it into the middle.
Whether he misread Podolski's timing or intentionally passed to Xia Qi, he pushed a knock-down to Podolski's far post.
Podolski couldn't turn to take it and had to keep running into the box to attract defenders for the arriving Xia Qi.
Xia Qi sped forward: 48 meters…45m…43m…40m — he covered that distance in less than two seconds to reach the ball, nudged it ahead,
a one-touch run-through,
wingman Podolski guided the way beautifully! The path ahead was clear!
Xia Qi took two more strides; at around thirty meters he winded up his right foot in a big backward arc then smashed the ball.
A windmill strike!
"Boom!"
A mighty bang, and the crowd actually heard two sounds.
One was the ball itself,
the other the close-up microphone picking up the impact.
The two sounds were separated by a fraction of a second, like an echo.
That shows how much power was behind Xia Qi's shot.
After the blast,
a white streak sped toward goal!
Hugo Lloris swore he'd report Xia Qi's brutality to the keepers' union after the match; the goalkeepers should blacklist Xia Qi.
Lloris thought of many things but it didn't affect his save.
He didn't try to read Xia Qi's shot — he dove instinctively toward the top right.
A man's instinct!
He actually guessed right, but he would rather have guessed wrong.
If he had guessed wrong it would make him look "slow" and make Xia Qi's strike appear faster and more valuable.
He didn't want that.
But there was no choice: he'd dived and the ball had gone in.
Ah,
a man's instinct!
As Lloris lay on the ground,
the referee's whistle had also blown.
Lloris desperately wanted the referee's arm to cross — but he saw what he least wanted.
The finger in the middle circle —
goal valid.
Thinking of having his net pierced four times already tonight,
Lloris stayed on the turf and didn't want to get up.
"Shot!"
"Windmill strike!"
"Goal."
"It's not that he can't dribble them, it's that a Batigol goal is more cost-effective."
"Lloris guessed the direction, but the ball was faster — at least 180 [km/h]."
"Xia Qi's worldie is the fourth goal."
"Tonight's match is brilliant: whenever Tottenham sees hope, someone at Arsenal steps up to knock them back."
"It's the 85th minute and Arsenal lead 5:3 by two goals. Time's running out for Tottenham."
The Emirates' atmosphere was beyond explosive — "nuclear" wouldn't describe it.
If Arsenal fans only knew: "You are light, you are electricity, you are the only legend…" they would sing that song now to express their mood.
This goal's visual impact and adrenaline rush were no less exciting than a full length dribble.
And because this goal came after Adebayor's provocation, it gave Arsenal players a sense of: the supreme hero rode in on a rainbow to save the day.
That mental image made the strike even more adrenaline-stimulating!
After the goal, Xia Qi charged to the Tottenham stand, popped his collar and crossed his arms.
That was Xia Qi spending twenty thousand units of local legend to buy Cantona's celebration…
"Pffft…"
Tottenham fans booed angrily at Xia Qi, but looking into Xia Qi's resolute eyes, the boos grew quieter and quieter…
(END CHAPTER)
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