Chapter 224: One Thrust to the Throat — Gama Over!
"Xia Qi!" Huang Jianxiang was so excited he could hardly contain himself.
He screamed hysterically: "An overhead kick! A bicycle kick! Xia Qi used such an incredible way to score and has stretched the lead again, crushing Italy's hope of equalizing."
He Wei's voice cracked with excitement: "A bicycle kick! Xia Qi snuffed out Italy's comeback flame with a bicycle kick."
"Rooney sent a lofted pass, Xia Qi timed the offside run, and facing the retreating defenders and the rushing goalkeeper, Xia Qi ran a little farther then cut back — that was the masterstroke…"
…
…
When the referee's whistle followed the goal, the England players exploded with joy!
No denying it: after Italy had scored two quick goals, the England players were genuinely rattled.
The intensity of the jubilation now matched how deep the earlier panic had been. That same emotion mirrored the feelings of the England supporters in the stands.
England fans were delirious, as if the World Cup trophy had already been tucked safely away.
Their cheers, like thunder, reverberated around the stadium.
Their faces were lit with irrepressible smiles, their eyes sparkling with excitement.
Some fans jumped for joy, liberating their inner happiness; some embraced and kissed each other; others stripped off their shirts, waving the jerseys aloft...
In contrast, the faces of Italy's fans showed only disappointment and dejection.
They sat in silence—some with their hands on their heads, unable to accept the cruel reality; some with blank stares, seeming lost; others sighed quietly, worried for the team's dark prospects...
On the pitch,
the instant the whistle sounded, a tide of despair washed over the Italian players—their faces full of melancholy and helplessness.
Seeing the England players performing acrobatic celebrations in front of their goal, they felt anger but were powerless, their hearts heavy with deep frustration.
When Italy had scored two to pull level, they had felt hope for a turnaround; reality, however, poured cold water on that flame.
Marco Verratti and Andrea Barzagli hung their heads low as if the weight of the world pressed down on their shoulders. Their eyes conveyed endless disappointment, a pain beyond words.
Gianluigi Buffon wanted to step up and console them but ultimately refrained. He knew that any comfort now might be pointless.
Even the team's joker—Mario Balotelli—couldn't cheer up. Xia Qi's impish smile kept appearing in his mind, and he kept hearing a voice: "Not teasing you anymore, Gama Over!" He felt a helpless lament, like wanting to strike but unable to change fate.
The whole squad sank deeper into disappointment; players' steps grew heavy, and their fighting spirit seemed to evaporate in an instant.
…
…
Cesare Prandelli stood at the touchline looking toward the bench, his expression grave, his mood awful.
This result was worse than if Balotelli hadn't scored those two! There were still over twenty minutes left; down 2–4, two goals behind, there was still time—reignite the team's spirit; substitutions would be more effective than words.
Words were pale and powerless now.
But who to bring on?
After brief thought, Prandelli decided to go all in, making a bold change: he withdrew Marco Verratti and Claudio Marchisio and sent on Lorenzo Insigne and Antonio Cassano.
He guessed that two-goal-up England would sit back and play counterattacking football; being two up, why keep attacking?
…
…
After the restart, just as Prandelli expected, Xia Qi led his team to dig in and defend with everything.
But Italy's morale had clearly been dented by conceding; they were anxious to recover the score and played hurriedly,
even producing unforced passing errors.
On the field,
England's shape steadily retreated; the forwards didn't press up to intercept, allowing some of Italy's mistakes to go unpunished.
One of England's double pivots, Jordan Henderson, dropped back into the defensive line, forming a five-man backline.
Xia Qi dropped into Henderson's old spot and stood parallel with Steven Gerrard.
Although Wayne Rooney wanted to complete a hat-trick, he obeyed Xia Qi's instructions and retreated into his own half—deeply—back to around forty meters from his own goal.
Antonio Cassano drove forward wildly, encountering virtually no resistance.
He looked up to inspect England's defense and was speechless.
This is ridiculously cautious!
A Mourinho-style bunker seemed to have come into effect!
At this moment England had nine players around their box; except for Rooney a little further out, everyone else swarmed the penalty area.
Italian fans let out deafening boos.
Online, the crowd-loving spectators vented strong displeasure:
[Stayed up for this? What are they even afraid of? They're not only leading by one.]
[Is this the coach's tactic or Xia Qi's idea? This is way too defensive.]
[England, you're strange to me. I curse you not to keep this. There's still nearly half an hour!]
[If you're the Ballon d'Or, then fight! What are you afraid of?]
…
…
Cassano on the right couldn't find a breakthrough or shooting chance and passed to Andrea Pirlo, hoping Pirlo's orchestration could find a gap.
Pirlo took a touch and fed Balotelli. After Balotelli's run through was blocked, he reached back for the ball and slid a diagonal return to Insigne. Insigne reached the byline but couldn't find a good crossing point into the box.
The ball came back across to Pirlo.
But when Pirlo stretched to receive, another foot was already in front of him.
With a thud,
the ball bounced to the left—unfortunately England had no player in that direction.
"Again Xia Qi!"
"That press was aggressive!"
"Xia Qi's vision and reading ability extend his defensive coverage greatly…"
Insigne dropped deeper and crossed from above the goal line.
The ball flew toward the box; Henderson outjumped Balotelli and headed it away.
Pirlo tried to contest the second ball but was shoved aside by Xia Qi's shoulder.
Xia Qi first controlled the ball with a touch, eluding Pirlo's closing pressure.
He then angled the ball at 45 degrees.
Rooney and his marker Giorgio Chiellini exchanged trash talk.
Chiellini's eyes were sharp; he was the first to spot Xia Qi launching a counter and strode forward a step to cut in front of Rooney and snatch the ball.
"Such a pity—an excellent one-on-one chance has been ruined."
Rooney, having lost the chance, folded his hands and apologized to Xia Qi.
Play continued.
Down by two goals, Italy made no personnel changes immediately, but they adjusted positions slightly.
Pirlo, nominally the deeper playmaker, pushed forward into a more advanced attacking midfield role—the position of his early years.
Anyone who saw this would know Pirlo had something up his sleeve.
Whether this was Pirlo's own decision or a tactical tweak by Prandelli, Xia Qi, Huang Jianxiang and England coach Roy Hodgson didn't know.
In any case, Italy were desperate and began experimenting.
Hodgson was a little tense, pacing the touchline, watching closely.
He kept consoling himself: Pirlo is king in the deeper role; up front he's only average—otherwise Carlo Ancelotti wouldn't have moved him backward in the first place.
Prandelli also noticed Pirlo's position creeping forward, but said nothing, letting Pirlo play the more advanced role.
At this moment, the coaches had to trust the players fighting on the front line; they understand the pitch better.
Pirlo must have his reasons.
…
…
Pirlo moved forward to get closer to England's penalty area.
But with England parked as a bus at the back, a player who excels at dictating tempo finds it hard to make rhythm.
So they looked to change!
But such a change had downsides.
The pressure on Pirlo increased; the space and time he once enjoyed were gone.
He couldn't waltz as before.
It felt like a deadlock—playing deep, he was no threat; playing advanced, he was still limited.
When Pirlo's role just shifted, England's defenders treated him with extreme caution.
As soon as he received the ball, players like Henderson or Phil Jagielka immediately pressed him.
Pirlo's wiry, artistic frame wasn't built for such rough treatment.
He fell at the slightest touch!
Italian fans, heartbroken, showered Jagielka and Henderson with the worst insults.
Pirlo got up from the turf without complaining to the referee.
Seconds ticked by... Pirlo went down and up again, over and over.
In the 85th minute, Pirlo received the ball on the edge of England's box; Henderson stuck closely to him, not allowing him to turn.
Henderson believed that if he prevented Pirlo from turning, England's goal would be safe.
But Pirlo leaned back, braced against Henderson, then shifted his body to the right as if to turn that way,
tricking Henderson into shifting his center of gravity.
When Henderson moved, Pirlo suddenly clipped the ball left-backwards,
the opposite direction to Henderson's adjustment.
The ball was flicked toward the area near the penalty spot inside the box.
Balotelli charged forward and reached the ball.
"Great chance!"
"What a lovely back-heel pass!"
In Huang Jianxiang's shouts, Balotelli didn't control—he struck immediately!
"Shot!"
Balotelli's shot slammed into a mountain.
It hit Xia Qi!
"Ah... Xia Qi! Xia Qi tracked back quickly."
The attack wasn't over yet!
Xia Qi used his body to block Balotelli's shot, the ball sprang high.
Xia Qi sprinted to the bouncing ball and with a clearance-plus-assist,
the ball flew toward Rooney's near post.
This time Rooney was alert; at the moment Xia Qi played the pass he made a perfectly timed run.
"No offside!"
"Rooney is through!"
"This is a perfect one-on-one chance."
Buffon did not choose to come off his line.
Rooney was still some distance from goal; Buffon feared a lob.
Xia Qi, after making the pass, did not take time off—he charged forward at full speed,
quickly catching up with the retreating Italian midfielders and defenders...
Rooney had already burst into the box, facing the legendary keeper Buffon on the goal line.
Rooney feinted to shoot.
There was a pause,
then he hit the ball with a fierce strike.
However, Buffon was not fooled. Facing Rooney's powerful shot,
Buffon didn't risk catching it with his hands for fear of spilling.
He launched a huge, wing-like dive, stretching his body to the limit,
and punched the ball wide.
Chiellini, catching sight of a white figure chasing back, lunged at that silhouette,
but instead he was shoved aside.
Stumbling, he saw Xia Qi surging toward the ball.
They couldn't allow Xia Qi to get the rebound!
Even if it meant a red card, it would be worth it!
Chiellini, before hitting the ground, managed to grab at the hem of Xia Qi's shirt.
Chiellini fell to the turf but failed to stop Xia Qi's sprint.
His body drew a five- or six-meter line across the grass.
Xia Qi dragged him along and reached the ball with a windmill volley.
The ball rocketed like a cannon.
Buffon scrambled up and tried a double save,
but was just a fraction short!
The ball slipped past his fingertips and nestled into the net.
The referee's whistle blew, and he pointed toward the center circle, signaling the goal was valid.
Then he beckoned Chiellini over, lectured the veteran, and produced a red card.
The Amazon Arena burst into boos.
2–5! Trailing by three goals at the 85th minute, Italy's hopes had effectively died; and now they're gifting a red card to a defensive leader?
Italy's future suddenly looked bleak.
Italian fans' anger ignited instantly!
Conversely, England fans began to sing and dance...
"Xia Qi's follow-up!"
"Goal!"
"Xia Qi completes a hat-trick! Who says midfielders can't win the Golden Boot? I'll outscore you forwards from midfield..."
Huang Jianxiang's voice brimmed with passion and immersion—he had fully put himself in Xia Qi's shoes!
His partner He Wei remained relatively cooler but equally excited, his voice raised high:
"My God! Xia Qi with three goals and two assists—he's the king of the pitch! He dominated the match."
"That strike, a perfect blend of power and technique."
"Amazing—he ran from the back to the front; that stamina! Does Xia Qi have three lungs?" He Wei continued to shout.
"His speed, awareness, and finishing are simply flawless! Xia Qi is the focal point of this game!"
"Time and again, Xia Qi steps up at critical moments—he is the soul of the team!"
"This hat-trick will surely be a career highlight! Xia Qi, let's cheer for him!"
Huang Jianxiang and He Wei's praise rose in waves, full of admiration for Xia Qi.
On the pitch,
Xia Qi sprinted around the field blowing kisses to the stands,
England fans' screams, laughter and roars filled the stadium sky...
Meanwhile Italy's supporters were overcome by disappointment and dejection.
They stood in stunned silence, their eyes empty and full of loss. Their expressions seemed crushed by a heavy weight; once passionate smiles had vanished without a trace.
Some bowed their heads, hands hanging limply as if strength had abandoned them. Their gazes wandered, unable to accept what they had seen.
Others bit their lips, holding back tears, full of helpless sorrow. They had hoped for their team, and now were bitterly let down.
Some covered their heads with both hands, steeped in self-reproach, regretting not giving the team more support.
(END CHAPTER)
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