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Chapter 207 - Chapter-207 Pride

Even years later, the moment Tavenot was most proud of in his heart was coaching Julien to victory in the Corsican youth derby.

He brought this up repeatedly during team training sessions.

Tonight, everyone from the reserve team was at the training ground watching the broadcast.

Usually, they could attend matches in person, but now Bastia's games were so popular that the club couldn't reserve enough tickets for their own people.

The halftime whistle blew.

At this moment, Tavenot said proudly, "Thank goodness we have Julien, otherwise we'd definitely be getting hammered in this match. With Julien's presence up front, PSG doesn't dare to commit too many players forward. You all need to learn from this. Whoever can become the second Julien will make me proud too."

He laughed as he spoke.

The reserve team players felt like fish seeing the sky.

Was this something they could actually learn?

The reserve team was still filled with legends of Julien—that one reserve match Julien played, the Corsican derby. Not only did Tavenot reminisce about it, but the players who participated still cherished those memories.

When talking to new reserve players, it was always "Last season, we and Julien did this and that."

Mathieu would often say, "Back then, Julien wore my training bib for practice, and the entire reserve defense couldn't stop him."

However, whenever they spoke of these things, while their voices carried pride and glory, their hearts held some melancholy.

At this moment, though the halftime whistle had blown, watching the sea of fans on television, their minds were already filled with earth-shaking cheers.

This was Bastia's sound!

In PSG's dressing room:

"Maxwell, if you keep pushing forward to attack, I think you'll need to take a rest."

Ancelotti outlined the second-half tactical arrangements to his players, focusing particularly on left-flank defensive coverage.

This was where PSG faced the most defensive pressure!

Julien De Rocca.

Every time Ancelotti heard this name, his head ached. Julien's pressure on the defensive line was too intense.

Maxwell had decent attacking ability, but Ancelotti didn't dare use it.

"And Marco," Ancelotti turned to Verratti, speaking in Italian, "I need you to help defend, but don't risk sliding tackles. Trust me, it's very difficult to dispossess De Rocca—that kid's feet are like they have glue on them."

Verratti nodded.

In fact, from the few attacking moves Bastia had in the first half, he'd already experienced Julien's dribbling and breakthrough ability.

It had to be said, to be called a genius by both media and fans, De Rocca really had something special.

"Alright, I believe you all felt that Bastia isn't an opponent you can easily defeat. Give me everything you've got! I believe you're stronger than them! Don't worry about conceding—we need to score more than them!"

Ancelotti spoke, looking at Ibrahimović. "Zlatan, you need to show them what you're capable of."

Having been subjected to Bastia's "specialties" several times in the first half, and even tasting them once, Ibrahimović was furious.

He nodded insistently. "Yes, I need to show them our attacking firepower!"

On the other side, Hadzibegic's tactical arrangement was simple: "Defend, then counterattack!"

"Kevin, your position is crucial." Hadzibegic then looked at Kanté and Rothen. "So, you two must create space for Kevin. Don't let him get caught in their pincer movement. Of course, if they really want to lock down Kevin, you also need to take on the distribution duties and get the ball forward. Whether it's Julien or Sadio, whoever has more space gets the ball."

Hadzibegic spoke about every detail, even pulling out the tactical board to draw diagrams.

He knew that if they could take points from PSG in this match, everyone at Bastia would undergo a mental transformation.

They needed a winner's mentality, the courage to attack fearlessly!

"FORZA BASTIA!"

When halftime ended, the players rallied together in the dressing room as always.

Walking out of the dressing room, Chataigner and Geronimi high-fived every player at the door.

When Julien came out, Geronimi gave him a hug and said. "Captain, beat PSG and let Ligue 1 hear Bastia's voice!"

Chataigner beside him echoed, "This match has the highest TV ratings in Ligue 1 so far. I think after tonight, more people will know about our Bastia."

In the tunnel, Silva saw Julien again. This time, all the curiosity in his eyes had been replaced by gravity.

After witnessing Julien's ability, he could no longer associate him with being 18 years old.

"Let's go, it's time to enter."

The referee checked the time and called the players to enter.

Returning to the pitch, both PSG and Bastia players felt completely different from the first half.

After half a match of intense battle, both sides had each other's measure.

Both were wary.

In some ways, Bastia had already succeeded—PSG was worth ten times as much as them.

As the players stood in the center circle waiting for kickoff, the cheers throughout the stadium quieted down.

From the North Stand came the melodic singing—

"From the mountains to the Mediterranean shore!

BASTIA! BASTIA! Forever more!

Blue blood runs through every street!

BASTIA! BASTIA! We'll never retreat!

We are the storm from Corsica's coast,

Ultras Bastia: we are the most!

Through fire and rain, through glory and pain,

Our blue hearts beat like thunder again!

(Clap-clap-stomp, clap-clap-stomp)

Julien runs like the island wind,

Every touch, every goal, the legends begin!

From the Furiani stands to the enemy's fear,

Our number ten makes the whole world cheer!

ALLEZ! ALLEZ! The blue wave rises!

BASTIA! BASTIA! No compromise!

Until our dying day we'll sing,

For the island, for the badge, for everything!

BASTI-A! (stomp-stomp-stomp)

BASTI-A! (stomp-stomp-stomp)

FORZA CORSICA!

BASTI-A!

When the singing ended:

Tweet!

The referee's whistle sounded again.

The second half began.

Clap clap clap!

The fans burst into applause.

Bastia kicked off.

Julien collected the surging emotions in his heart. This feeling of being wholeheartedly supported and remembered by an entire city was truly intoxicating.

He took a deep breath, cast aside distractions, and threw himself completely into the match.

Bang!

Mané kicked off, and De Bruyne immediately passed the ball ahead to Julien.

Verratti and Matuidi quickly moved to pincer Julien's position.

Julien sprinted at full speed, and with his explosive pace, few could catch him.

Before the two could complete their pincer movement, Julien had already collected the ball and charged past.

However, Verratti and Matuidi had blocked the inside lane, so Julien could only take the outside.

Maxwell watched Julien, retreating while defending, waiting for teammates to help.

Right from kickoff, Bastia displayed such attacking intent, lifting the stadium atmosphere to new heights.

"Julien!"

"Julien!!"

The fans chanted over and over, their eyes locked on Julien, anticipating his every move.

Meanwhile, PSG's entire defense immediately went into high alert.

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