Chapter 81 — My Brother, You Have the Bearing of an Emperor
In the 65th minute of the second half, Kevin De Bruyne came on to replace Jack Wilshere.
Wilshere's face read: displeased.
When he came off he didn't high-five De Bruyne. Arsène Wenger angrily called him back and reprimanded him in front of everyone.
Wilshere kept his head down and said nothing, his face full of grievance.
"A title-challenging team shouldn't show scenes like this. Wilshere should learn how to handle healthy internal competition, not throw a tantrum."
"Back in the day, the Zebra Prince Alessandro Del Piero and Filippo Inzaghi parted ways and that precipitated AC Milan's second spring, while Wayne Rooney and Cristiano Ronaldo's coexistence built the Red Devils' grand ambitions."
On the sidelines, Roberto Di Matteo looked at Wenger's substitution with disdain.
Although Kevin De Bruyne had never played under him,
he knew De Bruyne — after all, Di Matteo had signed off on the deal himself.
He clearly remembered the scouting and coaching reports on the player:
has certain playmaking ability in midfield; characteristic is being able to make passes in tight spaces; upside like Riquelme, but timid and tearful, afraid of physical confrontation... the floor is Gago.
Thinking that, Di Matteo gave a sideline gesture that said, "Take good care of him."
De Bruyne's imprint at Chelsea was shallow — he'd only played one friendly with the first team.
Players like John Terry and Frank Lampard would only nod in greeting; not the sort of teammate bonds you speak of.
A nouveau riche club like Chelsea had huge player turnover every season; Terry, Lampard and the others couldn't be expected to develop real affection for every passerby.
(Only later, when De Bruyne broke out, did Chelsea receive the label of being 'cold.' But come to think of it, isn't that the truest face of football?)
...
On the pitch De Bruyne looked ragged — a mess he brought upon himself. When Lampard closed down on him, he could have simply released the ball early.
But he wanted to test the intensity of the Premier League.
And testing nearly killed him.
Lampard shoved him lightly and De Bruyne went down, embarrassed and sprawling. It was as humiliating as it was obvious.
(In his Wolfsburg days De Bruyne bulked up physically — Mourinho didn't fancy him when he first returned to Chelsea, but a stung De Bruyne trained his body up at Wolfsburg.)
Seeing De Bruyne frail, Chelsea fans burst into joyful laughter.
The gloom that had been cast by Xia Qi earlier evaporated.
On Arsenal's bench Wilshere felt even more aggrieved. At least while I was on the pitch I didn't let the team down, he thought.
Wenger smiled: "Pat, if your hands are itchy, this can train strength. After you train it I'll buy you a drink — of course, single or round, you pay."
Pat Rice: I want to marry in — no one stop me!
...
Lampard's success lifted Chelsea's morale; they believed Arsenal were running dry and pressed forward ever more aggressively.
For a time Arsenal were forced to cede inches in midfield after inches, retreating to avoid conceding. De Bruyne dropped in to help Mikel Arteta mark Eden Hazard.
But Hazard isn't easy to mark.
He's a top-class player,
and defense isn't De Bruyne's strongest suit.
Hazard got past De Bruyne as easily as crossing an empty street at four in the morning.
On the sideline Wilshere's look of grievance deepened; he kept glancing at Wenger.
De Bruyne's defending wasn't great, but an extra defender is better than none.
Not everyone is like Xia Qi, who can single-handedly take on a crowd.
As time passed, De Bruyne and Arteta's cooperation grew more synchronized.
In the 72nd minute, Hazard had just danced past De Bruyne when Arteta, prepared, seized the moment and slid in, taking both ball and man.
The referee signaled good play and allowed play to continue.
"De Bruyne and Arteta combined, cut out the ball at Hazard's feet — Arsenal break!"
When De Bruyne collected the ball his whole air changed,
like a languid orange-cat queen.
He walked forward with elegant feline steps and gestured for his teammates to "blossom" outward.
Chelsea's defense was momentarily caught off guard.
Previously, when Wilshere was on the pitch Arsenal's play was simple: pass to Xia Qi.
Thus Chelsea's defensive plan was simple too: don't let Xia Qi get the ball easily.
Now everything changed — Xia Qi was no longer Arsenal's sole true love.
Mata pressed De Bruyne; after a wall pass with Arteta De Bruyne brought the ball back, and before Mata could recover he fed it to Theo Walcott.
Walcott grabbed the ball and burst forward, one quick rhythm to skip past Ramires.
Lampard had no answer; he signaled to Terry to abandon the double-team on Xia Qi and rush to cover Walcott.
At that moment De Bruyne had already arrived at the right edge of the penalty area; Walcott's ankle push returned the ball to De Bruyne's feet.
De Bruyne signaled to his teammates: except for the two central defenders, everyone should make runs, including Xia Qi.
Di Matteo on the sidelines deflated — it turned out Wenger had a tactic. The reason he was giving the ball to Xia Qi was because he knew his squad deserved it.
So now Di Matteo, forced to use his full strength, wondered: should he be proud, or proud?
He saw through Wenger's intention: if Chelsea continued to double up on Xia Qi, somewhere on the pitch would be left open, and the man who was left unmarked would deliver the finishing blow.
Di Matteo knew the way to break it: single-mark Xia Qi. But if they did, Xia Qi would score as easily as drinking water. If single-marked?
Di Matteo shivered; the image was too beautiful to dare imagine.
But whatever you fear most tends to happen.
On the pitch,
De Bruyne ordered everyone to spread out, and the Chelsea players reluctantly obliged.
Then suddenly De Bruyne surged and shot!
Lampard, defending him, was stunned and lunged to block.
But De Bruyne's raised right foot came down not as a shot but as a diagonal pass; the ball rolled across Lampard's original position into the box, curling toward the far post.
On the bench Di Matteo steadied his pounding heart — his suspicion was confirmed.
Arsenal not only had Xia Qi as a killer weapon, they had another god on the bench, a deity who could deliver "east wind express, mission accomplished."
He had been Wenger's guinea pig!
He had sold that god away!
Di Matteo wept: Premier League tactics run deep; I want to go back to Serie A.
...
"Pass!"
"Fake shot, real pass!"
"De Bruyne's feint successfully fooled Lampard."
At the far post a red figure sprinted for the ball.
"Mario Balotelli!"
"Onside!"
"Beautiful combination — the charm of team football."
On the screen Balotelli sliced past the crowd, piercing the entire back line — only ball stood between him and the keeper.
What a chance.
But Balotelli's first step was a beat late; he barely made contact with the ball and couldn't generate power.
Petr Čech cradled the soft shot into his arms and went down, heart racing.
"What a pity — Balotelli's start was a little slow."
"The timing between the two wasn't quite there."
Balotelli knew it was his fault; as he walked back he applauded De Bruyne in thanks.
Though the move didn't result in a goal, it showed the team another possibility.
Whenever Arsenal had possession, players now didn't hesitate to hand the ball to De Bruyne.
Once De Bruyne had the ball, teammates moved with fluid interchanges without needing his gestures.
Chelsea's defensive difficulty doubled; naturally they began to lose ground.
Chelsea fans saw their players in trouble and cheered desperately, while looking around asking: who is that cartoon-looking player?
"Who can tell me? How does Arsenal, so effeminate-looking, have so many talents — one Xia Qi, one goalkeeper, and now another?"
"Is number 30 the one we sold to Arsenal?"
"Isn't he a Bundesliga player?"
"We loaned him out."
"Fuck! Di Matteo out!"
"Di Matteo out!"
"Di Matteo out!"
On the sideline Di Matteo looked calm; when De Bruyne showed his attacking gift he knew he would take the blame.
On the pitch De Bruyne became more and more at home; his controls and passes were concise and efficient, not needing time to set himself — he could release the ball in the smallest of spaces.
That made it very hard for Lampard to cut off his passing lanes.
Beautiful rainbows kept appearing in Chelsea's box.
If the players' coordination had been a touch sharper, Arsenal would already have widened the lead.
In the 78th minute, Walcott saw the Chelsea defenders drawn in by Xia Qi and Balotelli and noticed a gap at the near post.
The killer's instinct!
Walcott surged forward — his acceleration was rapid; Ivanović's turn became as slow as an aircraft carrier pivot.
At the same moment,
De Bruyne struck the ball with the right instep,
powerful and domineering,
the ball spun violently, tracing a dazzling rainbow toward the near post.
One ball, one man,
in the next second they would meet at the near corner.
Arsenal fans erupted like an avalanche.
"This one is in."
"One pass brilliant, one run perfect."
Walcott reached the landing point before David Luiz could get back.
No interference.
Player there, ball lands.
"Shot!"
Čech launched himself —
At the critical moment,
with a near-perfect save,
he parried the ball out for a corner.
A phenomenal save!
Chelsea fans roared like a tidal wave.
Walcott stood with hands on hips, shaking his head in disbelief — that shot...
"God!"
"This wouldn't go in?"
"No wonder he likes ice hockey. That dive looked like he skated in on blades."
"Tonight it's gods fighting gods — each one more divine."
Wenger stood on the touchline clapping for his players, telling them not to be discouraged — keep playing like this.
A goal would come sooner or later.
Di Matteo couldn't sit still; he brought Oscar on for Ramires.
He hoped Oscar could organize Chelsea's midfield; using an attacking midfielder to counter an attacking midfield is a good idea.
But in reality, Oscar couldn't change Chelsea's passive state.
De Bruyne's pinpoint passes were sublime; to avoid Arsenal increasing the lead, Chelsea spent more time defending than attacking.
Playing like that meant being the passive side.
In the 85th minute, after a quick exchange, Terry and Lampard huddled and decided: "Push all three lines forward, spring an offside trap."
They knew it was risky, but they had no choice — time was against Chelsea.
If they continued to be slowly boiled alive, they'd be worn out; better to press high and gamble.
Chelsea began fierce pressing in the final third. Despite De Bruyne's one-touch passing, which was very Arsenal-like, anyone who understood football could see the risk.
If one-touch passes were intercepted, Arsenal would counter with a storm.
Both managers involuntarily wore heavy expressions on the sidelines.
"Arsenal are playing very well tonight. This fluid combination is unique in the Premier League."
"Chelsea are also showing fight."
"If Arsenal want to win, they must capitalize on field advantage and increase the lead; otherwise, being dominant but not scoring risks a counter-reaction."
The ball came back to De Bruyne after successive passes.
As soon as the ball was at his feet Oscar rushed at him.
De Bruyne performed a pushing motion; Oscar, thinking it was another one-touch pass, lunged to De Bruyne's left.
De Bruyne pulled the ball back, shifted it slightly to the right and darted off to the right, escaping Oscar's defense and immediately switching into breakthrough mode, charging toward Chelsea's goal like a runaway stallion.
This is the downside of high pressing: when defending fails, great open spaces appear behind for the opponent to run into.
Arsenal's front and midfield instantly accelerated; Chelsea's backline scrambled desperately to recover.
Balotelli spearheaded the counterattack.
The moment De Bruyne broke free of Oscar he surged forward.
After De Bruyne passed the halfway line, he found himself between Chelsea's two center backs.
"Chelsea defend stoutly; Arsenal's counter offside didn't work."
"David Luiz and Terry's defending is very seasoned. The Pillar That Steadies the Sea lives up to its name."
De Bruyne passed to Xia Qi, who launched an explosive run down the flank.
Reaching the edge of the box he laid it back to De Bruyne.
De Bruyne did not look; he played the ball.
The ball flew toward Balotelli at the near post.
"Beautiful!"
"Tonight's match quality is top-notch."
"Balotelli's reading of the trajectory is spot-on — indeed better than Giroud."
"Terry and David Luiz's defense is also brilliant. Balotelli's chance is slim."
"Those two keepers' saves could be textbook examples."
Chelsea fans and commentators like Zhang Lu thought the defense was secure.
They waited for Balotelli to receive and be dispossessed by the two defenders; they expected Chelsea's counter to arrive immediately.
Balotelli may lack smarts, but his football IQ isn't low.
At the instant the ball dropped,
Balotelli leaped high and, as he looked back toward the goal, cheekily winked at Xia Qi.
Always one to steal the spotlight.
But Xia Qi liked it.
Everyone's gaze followed the ball's flight.
Two figures sprinted for the second landing point.
Xia Qi and Lampard.
Ace versus ace!
Shoulder to shoulder during the run,
the sound of the clash was broadcast into every ear, arousing adrenaline.
The whole stadium went wild for their players; cheers rose in waves, many hoarse and screaming their lungs out.
One,
two,
three, four...
The seasoned Frank Lampard strangely found himself disadvantaged; his steps were disordered, his face pained. Where once the two ran neck-and-neck, Lampard now trailed Xia Qi by a shoulder.
Xia Qi, however, remained calm and expressionless.
The crowd gasped;
they gained an intuitive sense of Xia Qi's power.
On the pitch Lampard summoned the last of his strength and charged into Xia Qi.
But Xia Qi could still accelerate, like the "acceleration maniac" Kaka — always able to squeeze out a little more from the tank, finding top speed at critical moments.
Kaka's breakthroughs covered great distances and were hard to defend, like a meteor racing across the moon.
Xia Qi could do the same now.
Despair washed over Lampard and all Chelsea.
Arsenal fans wildly pumped fists and chanted: "Xia Qi! Xia Qi! Xia Qi!"
[Too strong — even the genie lamp is being crushed.]
[Xia Qi tonight is absurdly powerful.]
[One-on-one! Since De Bruyne came on Arsenal have played wonderfully.]
[Even through the screen I can feel the fear of Chelsea fans.]
[Not necessarily — Čech is a great shot-stopper for one-on-ones.]
[But tonight Čech's been beaten three times by Xia Qi already. Psychologically Xia Qi has the edge.]
"Čech rushed out at the right time."
"Čech is the Premier League's top keeper for covering space and stopping one-on-ones. Even though Xia Qi has ripped through Čech's defenses three times, two were heavenly goals."
"Now is the moment of true showdown."
Xia Qi began to slow down; as they neared each other he performed a "Messi shoulder drop" leaning right.
Čech judged it a feint and didn't react.
His defensive strategy works against ordinary players, but it was the wrong choice against AI.
The AI instantly seized his mistake: the feint became real and Xia Qi sailed to the right and past him.
The stadium fell into stunned silence.
Where was the famed one-on-one stopping ability?
Where was the great duel?
Is that it???
[Čech has been kicked out of people's psychological comfort zones...]
Čech: Your whole family are psychological shadows. That move really was a feint — ask Messi if you don't believe me!
Xia Qi glided in like flowing clouds and water, and finished with the nonchalance of a leisurely stroll.
Facing the open net he eased the ball in.
A natural four-goal haul, in the bag.
"Brother Tong, do that Harland lotus-leg meditation."
Xia Qi beckoned his teammates and ran to the Arsenal stands, sat cross-legged in front of the fans and meditated.
Kevin De Bruyne sat right beside him and also folded his legs to meditate.
What a show-off!
Perfect score!
Balotelli looked on with envy, jealousy and hatred!
Suddenly he blurted an Italian saying, which translates to Chinese roughly as: "My brother, you have the bearing of an emperor."
(END CHAPTER)
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