"Everton has been relentless since the restart, tightening their grip on midfield possession!"
"The new philosophy Martinez has injected into this side has transformed a team that looked dull and conservative under Moyes into the Premier League's synonym for 'sexy football'!"
"However, Wolfsburg's defense remains resolute—especially the connection lines near the thirty-meter mark!"
James Zhan offered an objective appraisal of the unfolding drama. When James McCarthy received a pass from John Stones, he shrugged off harassment from Caligiuri to find Steven Naismith. But before the Scotsman could secure the ball, a green-and-white blur streaked across the pitch, colliding with him like a falling boulder.
Bang! The powerful Naismith stumbled, losing control as Kevin De Bruyne swooped in for the interception.
"Brilliant interception! He isn't just the offensive engine for the Wolves; he is a pivotal figure in the defensive phase as well!"
"Remember, while Mourinho and De Bruyne might have clashed over tactical philosophies, the 'Special One' once admitted that Kevin's physical gifts are among the elite in all of European football!"
"Look at the Wolfsburg counter!"
At Goodison Park, the field looked like a kaleidoscope of shifting blue jerseys to the advancing De Bruyne. To judge the true strength of a team, one only needs to watch the transition from defense to attack. Everton's double-pivot of Barry and McCarthy blocked most central lanes, but movement always births a crack.
"Don't let him pick a pass!" Barry shouted, a sudden sense of foreboding washing over him as he barked at McCarthy.
McCarthy, a 13-million-pound arrival from Wigan the previous summer, had become a fan favorite at the "Old Lady" in just one season. His high-octane performances made him the blue engine of the defensive midfield, evidenced by his average of 3.3 tackles per game. He lunged forward, attempting to shut down the optimal passing lane.
Optimal. A top defender doesn't just worry about the opponent making a pass; they worry about which direction that pass will yield the most damage.
In the next instant, an unbelievable scene unfolded on the pitch.
De Bruyne's body tilted slightly, forming a perfect 45-degree angle with the ball. The laces of his right boot met the leather with surgical precision.
Snap! The crisp sound echoed as the ball hissed across the grass. Under the gaze of tens of thousands, the ball traced a flawless, sweeping arc. The double-pivot shield Everton had constructed was sliced clean in two, left and right.
The camera tracked the ball at high speed, locking onto Wolfsburg's Number 13. David Qin was in full flight, his long strides eating up the ground in the cool breeze blowing off the River Mersey.
The man and the ball met in perfect synchronization.
Gasp! The stadium collectively caught its breath at the sheer quality of the pass. The Everton faithful turned their anxious eyes toward Seamus Coleman. The fullback, whom Everton had snagged for a mere 70,000 euros from the Irish league five years ago, had grown into a formidable veteran. His greatest asset was his maturity; he knew exactly where to be.
David's eyes were like burning coals as he stared down Coleman, searching for a weakness. Finding none, he simply increased his pace, intending to burn him on the outside. The golden rule of fullback defense is "show them outside, not inside," so Coleman's body was naturally angled toward the interior.
Instantaneous explosive power surged as David launched himself like an arrow from a bow.
"He's forcing it down the wing!"
"He's half a step past Coleman, but look at John Stones covering! His defensive awareness is incredible!"
David saw Stones closing in; the wing run was reaching its dead end. As his peripheral vision caught Coleman chasing back, his mind and feet synchronized in a single command: STOP!
Simultaneously, he used the momentum to drag the ball back with a half-turn.
"Fuck!" Coleman overshot the mark, cursing under his breath. However, he wasn't panicked; Stones was right there. At just 20 years old, Stones hadn't just replaced Sylvain Distin; he had conquered Martinez's heart. A man who plays with his brain—that was Martinez's verdict.
But as Stones stepped in with confidence, his eyes widened in shock. After dragging the ball with his left, David immediately transitioned into a right-footed push. The ball traced a nimble path across the turf, dancing just out of reach of Stones' lunging leg.
"Beautiful! Brilliant! Sublime!"
"With two simple movements, David Qin has eluded the combined press of Coleman and Stones! He's in the clear!"
"Only Phil Jagielka stands in his way now!"
James Zhan felt his vision blur; one moment David was swarmed, the next he had burst through, a lone figure charging toward glory. Everton's left center-back glanced at Olić, hesitated for a heartbeat, and then chose to engage the ball-carrier. He had no choice. He was the closest man; he had to gamble on the tackle.
"David!"
Hearing Olić's call, David gave the ball a soft flick of the ankle just as Jagielka approached, slipping the pass through. But David didn't stop. He ghosted past Jagielka and sliced into the penalty area.
As expected, Olić was on the same wavelength. A textbook "one-two."
Receive, trap, adjust! All in one breath!
In the blink of an eye, the preparation was complete. David's eyes locked onto the far post as he opened his hips and pushed with his right foot.
The strike!
Thump! Tim Howard—the former Manchester United man and deputy to Van der Sar—dived instinctively. But even with his frame stretched to its absolute limit, he couldn't touch the surgical precision of that low drive.
As the ball crossed the line and rippled the back of the net, the away section exploded.
"It's in! It's in!"
"De Bruyne's magic pass, David Qin's spectacular escape on the wing... these two have turned the impossible into reality!"
"Look at that turn and push to beat the defenders! His talent is practically overflowing from the screen!"
James Zhan was so overwhelmed that his words stumbled. It was Zhang Lu who took a deep breath and spoke into the microphone with a gravitas that matched the moment: "42nd minute, Wolfsburg equalizes!"
"Not only that—the curse of zero goals for Chinese players in a European main tournament has been broken. And the man to shatter it is David Qin, just seventeen years old!"
"Carrying the weight of public scrutiny and immense pressure, I believe he has just proven exactly what he is capable of!"
Goodison Park grew significantly quieter. David sprinted toward the corner flag, letting out all his pent-up passion in a triumphant knee-slide.
"Vamos!!!"
He stood up, pumped his fist, and roared. He had seen countless players on short-form videos scream that phrase after a goal; he had to admit—it felt damn good.
The significance of this goal was monumental, both for himself and for Chinese football. The thrill, uncontrollable and raw, surged through his nerves to every corner of his body. In this moment, even his fatigue seemed to vanish.
"You did it, kid!" his teammates screamed, swarming him. They had assumed the best-case scenario when he was double-teamed was a throw-in. None of them had expected a miracle.
---------
Hope you guys are digging the story so far! If you are, drop a comment or a review. And don't forget those power stones! Appreciate the support