"Hey, Su, Zizou, are you sure you don't want to think this over again?"
After the meeting, Simon jogged after Su Hang, practically losing his mind.
He was about to lose it completely.
If this starting lineup leaked, the press would destroy him.
If they won, fine. But if they lost—he'd be finished. Completely done for.
The football world had never seen anyone pull something like this.
This was the Champions League Final, for God's sake!
Josep the Alchemist Guardiola: "What? Made it to another final? Time for some chaos!"
"We're just pushing the backline up to play as the midfield, that's all. Relax, Simon, Zizou can handle it. He may be getting on, but he can still play like a Ballon d'Or winner for half a match," Su Hang said, deflecting calmly.
"I'm not doubting Zidane. I just don't trust your tactics," Simon replied, exasperated.
Su Hang grinned. "Then how about I share my Plan A? The one I mentioned before—One Star, Seven Arrows! Guaranteed to rip through Barcelona and turn it into an epic all-out attack!"
"Sure, two or three players might not be a perfect fit, but they're all world-class. With a few tweaks, I can make it work at 80% effectiveness."
Simon went quiet, defeated.
Forget it—better let Zidane play defensive midfield.
That sounded ten thousand times safer than that ridiculous "One Star, Seven Arrows" idea.
And what even was "One Star, Seven Arrows"?
One Defensive Midfielder distributing passes while seven players surged forward on attack.
Behind him? Only two Center Backs and the goalkeeper.
Who on earth played football like that?
Josep Guardiola (still a player at the time): "Why do I feel like I'm already living in someone else's shadow before I've even retired?"
...
As the Champions League Final drew near, more and more news began to surface.
On Barcelona's side, Messi—this season's La Liga Rookie of the Year—was ruled out of the final due to injury.
Xavi, returning after five months sidelined by a ligament tear, had lost his starting spot and would be on the bench.
Giuly was struggling with poor form and was likely to be replaced by Larsson or Iniesta.
Motta, who had suffered recurring injuries, was also expected to make the bench—not because of great form, but because coach Rijkaard feared Edmilson couldn't handle defensive midfield duties alone.
Meanwhile, at Real Madrid, there was less drama.
Aside from Ronaldo, who had been ruled out for the season early on, everyone else had miraculously recovered in time for the final—
Figo, Beckham, Raúl, García… all fit and ready.
Zidane's suspension had also ended.
Except for Su Hang's recent dip in form, Real Madrid were peaking—both in morale and in strength.
...
May 17th, Stade de France, Paris.
Eighty thousand fans filled the stands, half in red and blue, half in white.
The atmosphere was electric—thick with tension and anticipation.
The match was broadcast worldwide on ESPN International.
That year, ESPN had hit the jackpot.
They'd already secured the Champions League broadcasting rights,
but thanks to Su Hang's meteoric rise and international appeal, the final drew record-breaking global viewership.
UEFA, as always, knew how to capitalize on the moment.
Had Real Madrid been knocked out in the Round of 16, ESPN's ratings would have been average.
Reaching the quarterfinals meant strong numbers.
But now, with an all-Spanish El Clásico in the final?
They were printing money.
(Wait... is that how the saying goes?)
"Good evening, everyone! You're watching ESPN's live coverage of the 2005–2006 UEFA Champions League Final!"
"The two sides tonight—La Liga's giants, Real Madrid and Barcelona!"
"This is the first-ever all-Spanish El Clásico in Champions League history!"
"In the past three seasons, Real Madrid and Barcelona have split their head-to-head record evenly, with their last meeting ending in a draw. On paper, this could go either way."
"Both clubs have just confirmed their starting lineups."
"For Barcelona: Ronaldinho, Eto'o, and Larsson form the attacking trio—though Ronaldinho tends to drop deeper into midfield."
"The midfield three: Deco, Edmilson, and Van Bommel."
"The backline, from left to right: Van Bronckhorst, Márquez, Puyol, and Oleguer."
"And in goal—Victor Valdés."
In the broadcast booth high above the Stade de France, Derek Rae's voice rang out, rich and composed:
"Of course, joining me tonight is my longtime colleague, Tommy Smyth, to bring you every moment of this historic final."
"Good evening, Derek! What a matchup we've got here—two of the biggest names in world football, and a bit of history on the line as well!" Smyth replied, brimming with energy.
Derek Rae continued,
"Judging by the announced lineup, Real Madrid should be setting up in a 4-2-3-1."
"Su Hang leading the line."
"Robinho, Zidane, and Figo behind him."
"Baptista and Beckham as the double pivots."
"Roberto Carlos, Helguera, Sergio Ramos, and Salgado at the back."
"And, of course, Casillas in goal."
Smyth chimed in,
"Looks like Real Madrid want to dominate the middle of the park, Derek."
"Control the midfield, control the match. With players like Zidane, Figo, and Beckham, that makes perfect sense—"
He suddenly hesitated.
"Wait a second… what's going on down there?"
Derek Rae squinted toward the pitch.
"Zidane's position looks… odd. Isn't he sitting a bit too deep?"
"And why is Baptista that far up?"
The whistle blew, signaling kickoff.
After the first exchange, Real Madrid's formation became clear—
and the entire football world erupted in disbelief.
"Zidane as a Defensive Midfielder?!"
"You've got to be joking—and as a lone DM?!"
"Real Madrid has never lined up like this!"
"This is madness!"
"Changing formations right before a final? That's suicide! What's Simon thinking?"
"I said it before—Simon's a gambler! Completely reckless!"
"Baptista as a striker? They've gone insane!"
Neither fans nor commentators could make sense of Real Madrid's setup.
Forget 4-2-3-1; they were clearly running a 4-1-3-2!
=
Su Hang, Baptista
Robinho, Figo, Beckham
Zidane
Roberto Carlos, Helguera, Sergio Ramos, Salgado
Casillas
Look at that shape—what on earth were they doing?
"They're not trying to win the midfield!" Tommy Smyth exclaimed, catching on first.
"Real Madrid aren't focusing on controlling possession—they're fortifying the center of defense! Or maybe more precisely… the central backfield!"
...
(35 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser