Chapter 222: Could England Be Paying for Liverpool's Night Back Then?
On the touchline, Italy coach Cesare Prandelli shouted hoarsely in panic: "Defend! Defend! Defend!"
While the Italian players were still marvelling that Xia Qi was a tough nut, Xia Qi had already chased down the ball,
and the game flipped from defense to attack in an instant.
The Italian players retreated frantically…
Italy's retreat was fast and orderly;
all three lines kept reasonable spacing and showed no glaring gaps.
In the box Gabriel Paletta reacted quickly;
he charged toward Xia Qi at once.
Seeing him rush in, Xia Qi didn't rush to release the ball.
For one, Italy hadn't exposed a killer weakness; for another, England's front three were slow to react and hadn't found ideal positions.
Unable to find a suitable passing outlet, Xia Qi decided to take it on himself.
When Paletta closed in, Xia Qi suddenly dragged the ball sideways, slipped it behind Paletta and dashed past him.
After the dribble,
Xia Qi signalled with his hand for his teammates to all press forward,
just then Marco Verratti, responsible for shadowing Xia Qi all match, closed in.
Xia Qi didn't want to go head-to-head with him—after all, Paletta was still behind him.
Before Verratti lunged in, Xia Qi passed to Wayne Rooney at the near post.
Rooney's turn and control were a bit careless; Daniele De Rossi intercepted successfully. After winning the ball, De Rossi passed to Verratti.
Verratti was now only four or five metres from Xia Qi, but Xia Qi didn't close down on him.
Instead he sprinted toward Antonio Candreva.
Sure enough, Verratti who received the ball assumed the nearby Xia Qi would try to press him; instinctively and without thinking he passed the ball away the moment he received it.
Xia Qi had anticipated Verratti's anticipation.
He raced forward ahead of everyone to get in front of Candreva, and the ball returned to his feet.
"The Italian pass-and-move broke down; the ball has been returned to Xia Qi."
Candreva, robbed of his "first bite" by Xia Qi, charged at him furiously.
Xia Qi protected the ball on the inside of his ankle, then took the collision on his side, bearing the impact on his hip and shoulder.
They crashed into each other solidly.
Xia Qi stumbled and nearly fell—showing how forceful Candreva's challenge had been, and that Xia Qi's balance (even in AI-mode) was being truly tested.
Of course Candreva didn't feel great either; he was knocked down by the reaction force.
That was an opportunity.
As he staggered, Xia Qi released the ball and passed to the retreating Theo Walcott.
At that moment Walcott was facing away from the Italian goal and facing Xia Qi.
After steadying himself, Xia Qi ran forward and took position behind Walcott.
Walcott received Xia Qi's pass and didn't turn—he merely adjusted the angle of the ball slightly.
When Xia Qi arrived behind him, Walcott flicked the ball back to Xia Qi with his heel.
Seeing the ball come back to Xia Qi, Claudio Marchisio abandoned his marking of Walcott and charged toward Xia Qi.
Verratti and Candreva tracked back—one toward Walcott and one toward Xia Qi—preparing to double-team Xia Qi.
Xia Qi of course wouldn't allow himself to be boxed in; before the encirclement formed he shifted the ball out to the right flank.
Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain sprinted forward and received the ball.
Damian stood in front of Oxlade-Chamberlain; De Rossi positioned on Damian's right, forming a sixty-degree wedge to block a cross.
Oxlade-Chamberlain shimmed and feinted as if determined to get to the byline,
drawing De Rossi toward Damian, then laid the ball off to Xia Qi.
After the pass, Oxlade-Chamberlain surged forward, dragging Damian with him.
His intention was to play a wall-pass with Xia Qi, planning to receive it back behind Damian.
But Xia Qi had no such plan.
Instead he suddenly shifted the ball sideways and sprinted toward the centre.
De Rossi expected Xia Qi to combine with Oxlade-Chamberlain and moved to cut the Xia–Oxlade link.
Xia Qi didn't follow the usual route; De Rossi's sideways movement ended up blocking nothing.
After a few sideways dribbles, Xia Qi nudged the ball forward on a diagonal, turned, and oriented his body toward Italy's goal.
At that moment Xia Qi was more than forty metres from goal.
None of the Italian players, keeper included, perceived immediate danger.
De Rossi saw Xia Qi moving away and didn't accelerate after him—he believed Xia Qi would pass as before.
De Rossi's thinking was pretty much shared by the other Italians.
However, in the next second,
Xia Qi spread his arms, planted his left foot and winded up his right…
"He's shooting!"
Salvatore Sirigu cried out!
De Rossi and Andrea Barzagli charged toward Xia Qi in a rush,
but it was already too late.
The ball screamed over Barzagli's head—Barzagli leapt but could not head it.
"Xia Qi! A super long-range strike!"
Sirigu saw Xia Qi set himself and knew a long-range shot was coming.
He started to backpedal, but before he'd taken a few steps the ball was already over his head;
by then he could only spring up and raise his hand, a desperate try to keep the ball out.
Sirigu leapt and could not reach it; he turned and watched the ball again,
and this time it curled into the net from the far corner.
Damn!
I didn't check the almanac before leaving today!
Sirigu was left helpless; England had already reduced him to a substitute in one half.
If no surprises, Gianluigi Buffon would start the next match for Italy.
On the pitch, Xia Qi looked unbelievably cool!
After the shot he did not, like others, follow the ball with his eyes and heart into the net.
He turned early toward the Italian fans' stand, spread his arms and struck a "rule the world" pose.
Just like a movie hero who doesn't look at the explosion.
That kind of confidence!
…
When Xia Qi wound up the strike, everyone in the Arena amazement froze; eyes fixed on the moment Xia Qi's boot met the ball and it skimmed past Sirigu's fingertips, struck the inner side of the far-post angle and bounced into the net!
"Ah! A super worldie!"
"Hail! Xia Qi is invincible!"
"3–0! We've killed the match!"
England fans roared and leapt Uproariously, opening their arms as if to embrace Xia Qi on the pitch as he ran—thinking they could hold him that way.
Commentators in the broadcast were equally excited, shouting hysterically:
"The blue Titanic has been sunk by the Crusaders!"
"So brutal—England used just half a half to book Italy's return tickets."
"Losing the decisive game in the death group, Italy must now win both remaining matches to secure their fate.
With England taking this game, their prospects of advancing look bright."
Although Xia Qi's third goal came in the 42nd minute of the first half, by then no one doubted England's eventual victory.
Xia Qi's early celebration spread confidence among English supporters;
no one thought the half-time celebration was premature "popping champagne."
This was the confidence Xia Qi gave them!
Online it buzzed:
"Fuckin' beautiful! A 40-plus-metre worldie!"
"My mom asked why I'm kneeling in front of the TV—because I worship him!"
"We used to joke about four World Cup misconceptions… Italy's trash, England's strong… After tonight, I believe even our national team drawing would be enough to qualify!"
"Xia Qi one goal and two assists already, sending Italy home in a half—too strong!"
"The best part isn't the goal—it's the damn pre-celebration!!!"
…
Seeing the ball actually nestle in the net, Wayne Rooney ran to Xia Qi, grabbed his head and yelled:
"Fuck! Either don't celebrate, or when you do it has to be super cool! Do you know that your celebration was more beautiful than the goal?"
Steven Gerrard shouted at Xia Qi: "I don't need a wall to lean on—I salute you! We can clock out early today."
England's coaching staff poured out of the dugout and embraced each other.
Roy Hodgson and his assistants hugged; the substitutes' bench was already empty.
Players had already run to the sideline shouting at their teammates on the pitch...
…
Because the first half was nearly over, Italy coach Prandelli didn't make substitutions.
When play resumed,
Italy's morale was low while England's soared.
After kick-off Italy didn't cooperate much: a few simple passes, then Marchisio ignored Mario Balotelli's outstretched hand and struck a world-class shot from the edge of England's box that Joe Hart parried onto the crossbar.
Later Pirlo swung a corner; De Rossi threatened at the far post and headed the ball onto the stands.
Joe Hart took the goal-kick.
England couldn't extend the lead.
The referee blew for half-time after a Walcott shot.
Italian players hung their heads and quickly walked back down the tunnel; Balotelli dawdled on purpose at the back.
Xia Qi—having deactivated autopilot—and his good friend Joe Hart walked and chatted as they exited.
At some point Balotelli sidled up and said in a mysterious tone: "Xia, your early celebration was sick!"
Before Xia Qi could answer, Joe Hart protested: "Mario, can you do anything right? I'm out of the shot!"
Xia Qi scolded them both: "You two really are something! Team traitors? Birds of a feather!"
Balotelli saying that is not surprising—at Inter he once posed in an AC Milan shirt in front of the media.
To be friends with Balotelli, Joe Hart's wiring is unique…
They didn't take Xia Qi's rebuke seriously and both laughed.
At the tunnel fork, Balotelli patted Xia Qi: "It's great to be your teammate."
Xia Qi waved his hand: "Singing my praises now? Too late—I only slaughter friends."
…
In Italy's dressing room, Prandelli was rallying the squad.
With the example of Ancelotti's "half-time champagne" humiliation in mind, Prandelli wanted to fight back.
First, Sirigu could not continue—he'd been psychologically knocked out by Xia Qi; if he couldn't recover, Xia Qi would have destroyed him for life.
Second, single-marking Xia Qi across the pitch had no effect, so they must switch to double-marking and tactical fouls…
"For marking Xia Qi, one of you must stick to him man-for-man, use some fouls if needed—as long as it's not a red card. Be careful to avoid dangerous zones..."
"They popped champagne at half-time last time—it was us who suffered, but the English laughed last. Same scoreline, same half-time champagne—this time it's our turn to turn it around."
The memory of the Istanbul miracle night was persuasive; the Italian players' fighting spirit and confidence surged back to full.
Especially Pirlo, who pumped his fist and shouted: "Revenge!"
He firmly believed he would score in the second half—after all, nine years ago it was Gerrard's near-post header that sounded Liverpool's counterattack!
Funny, isn't it? Today's England squad even includes one of the protagonists—Steven Gerrard.
Pirlo believed fortunes turn over: thirty years east, thirty years west; surely it was his turn now...
In England's dressing room there hadn't been champagne either, but it felt similar.
Players joked about when they could clock out—at 60, 70, or 80 minutes?
Joe Hart even complained: "I'll be the only goalkeeper frozen at the summer World Cup..."
They laughed and had no idea that across the tunnel Italy was sharpening their knives.
…
Before the second half began, Italy made a substitution: the ageless Gianluigi Buffon replaced the keeper Sirigu who had been beaten three times in the first half.
In the players' tunnel Balotelli asked Xia Qi mysteriously: "Do you believe in fate?"
Xia Qi didn't know he meant an "Istanbul cycle," and nodded.
Receiving affirmation from his friend Balotelli, Mario charged onto the field with a flush, leaving a bewildered Xia Qi to stroll onto the pitch leisurely.
The second half kicked off with England in possession.
Xia Qi had barely taken control when Verratti shoved him from behind and knocked him to the ground.
The referee blew and called a foul on Verratti but gave only a verbal warning, no card.
This angered the England players, who protested the decision—but it didn't wake up the officials' vigilance.
In the next several minutes, Xia Qi was targeted four times.
Sometimes they resorted to using hands when single-marking Xia Qi wasn't enough;
sometimes he was double- or even triple-marked—no chance for a single hero to take on three.
Xia Qi was repeatedly subjected to tactical fouls; it served Italy's cause well.
In those minutes they managed three shots that hit the frame—ultimately they failed to convert, but at least they saw hope.
Then in the 58th minute Italy launched another counterattack.
Pirlo, near the penalty area line, feinted a shot and instead delivered a diagonal pass.
Marchisio cut in from the left to the edge of the box with what looked like a shot,
the ball threaded through Joe Hart's outstretched side…
Red alert in England's box!
"Danger!"
England fans in the stands screamed.
From their view Balotelli had already moved into the ball's trajectory,
bow drawn, ready to strike.
England fans booed themselves raw,
but what use was it?
Balotelli poked his foot, the ball changed direction and rolled into England's net.
"Balotelli!"
"Goal!"
"The score is now 1–3! This plot feels familiarly eerie, just like that Istanbul night nine years ago—could England be paying for Liverpool back then?"
"England won't really pop champagne at half-time again, will they?"
(END CHAPTER)
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