Chapter Eighteen: Feigned Arrow or True Arrow?

Although Karl had agreed to Momo’s request, Momo knew this wasn’t enough. He still needed the help of the Czech left midfielder, Jan Simak; otherwise, this tactical setup would never work.

“Simak, when you get the ball, could you push forward and then send a high pass to Karl?”

Momo realized time was running short, and he had to reach an understanding with Jan Simak as quickly as possible. Unexpectedly, Jan Simak did not question him at all. In fact, Simak’s role was precisely to break through at the right moments, then decide between shooting and crossing.

Though the match had only just begun—barely two minutes in—when Simak saw Duisburg’s formation, he frowned. In such circumstances, cutting inside to shoot was out of the question; for a meaningful attack, a focal point was needed, and Karl was undoubtedly the best choice.

Now that Momo had already coordinated with Karl, Simak’s doubts were dispelled. Truth be told, Simak had his reservations about Karl’s performance, especially since Karl’s errors in the match against Bielefeld had directly led to two conceded goals.

“Ahem, in the first half, Hannover 96’s goal was breached by Duisburg’s attacking midfielder, number 21, Waters, who opened the scoring, putting Duisburg ahead 1–0. Remember before the game, Duisburg’s main strikers, number 10 Kivinesque and number 13 Ebers, claimed to be China’s nemeses. Now, though it’s hard to admit, we have to acknowledge that whenever our country’s players face them, they always end up conceding goals.”

Chen Nu sounded awkward as he said this. He didn’t really want to continue, but the director was holding up a huge sign, insisting he follow the script to stir up patriotic sentiment and keep viewers invested.

Whatever Chen Nu was saying, Momo wasn’t paying attention. He needed to focus on the match. After Karl passed him the ball, Karl turned and sprinted toward Duisburg’s backfield, while Jan Simak stood ready to receive Momo’s pass. Yet Momo noticed something even more intriguing.

As play resumed, Duisburg’s two forwards moved back toward their own half, seemingly unconcerned about their defensive duties. Number 21, Waters, didn’t show much intent to press, and even circled around Momo rather than truly attacking.

In this situation, Momo successfully carried the ball past midfield. At that moment, number 26, Guwan, suddenly surged forward, while number 29, Nisko, hovered nearby. Their positions resembled the five points of a pentagram, each guarding a direction. Now, one of those points was collapsing inward, moving toward Momo.

Momo did not rush to release the ball, despite Simak’s anxious gaze nearby. He wanted to try dribbling past number 26, Guwan. This idea came mainly because of Guwan’s aggressive pressing—he strode forward in big steps, attempting a tackle. In the German second division, what did Momo rely on most? His explosive power, rated at an impressive 15.

Under these circumstances, choosing to dribble past his opponent wasn’t so hard to understand. The Chinese fans watching at home and the spectators in the stadium were clearly excited by such moments; their noisy voices on the sidelines made that clear.

“Number 37, Momo, now has the ball. He’s going to take on his man! In the last match against Bielefeld, Momo showed his agility. Now he’s attempting a dribble—can he get past?”

Chen Nu’s voice was charged with excitement; nothing is more thrilling on a football pitch than dribbling past an opponent and scoring a goal.

Actually, if we judge by FIFA ratings, most second division players have ability scores in the low forties, with the better ones reaching about sixty. Momo’s stats, if taken at face value, would be around sixty-six, but if we focus on key attributes—explosive power, speed, off-the-ball movement—apart from his slightly disappointing shooting score of eight, he’s already a decent striker by second division standards.

Momo dribbled the ball skillfully. If anyone asked him how he managed to get past number 26, Guwan, he’d surely respond,

“I stop, he stops. I go left, he follows. I go right, he reacts as well. But when I sent the ball through his legs first, he was busy closing them, yet he couldn't stop the ball—or me.”

It must be said, Momo’s agility rating of twelve gave him the ability to slip through narrow gaps, while his vision, rated at fourteen, allowed him to judge every situation with a broad perspective. His imagination and composure, both rated at eighteen, kept his mind clear and calculations precise at all times.

A man like Momo, in theory, should be a midfield maestro, orchestrating the entire game. But like Paris Saint-Germain’s defender David Luiz Moreira Marinho in later years, he had the heart of a striker. The only difference was, Momo actually played up front, while David Luiz was a defender.

The German second division suited Momo perfectly. If he were in the Bundesliga, things would be far more difficult; forget dribbling—most strikers would have explosive power of fourteen, which equates to a rating of seventy.

Getting past number 26, Guwan, didn’t faze the Duisburg players. After all, they had their iron wall, number 30, Grugiev. Grugiev stood about 188 centimeters tall, sturdy in build, yet not slow, though his stamina was uncertain and his footwork somewhat clumsy.

Momo didn’t attempt another dribble, instead passing the ball out wide. Grugiev was momentarily confused—what was happening? The kid seemed so aggressive, yet he passed the ball out. Who said you have to dribble every time?

“Momo passes to Jan Simak on the flank. Simak has been waiting for this! He doesn’t hold onto the ball, as left-back Bess is hounding him. He quickly returns the pass—wait, no, it’s a long ball! A high cross, and it’s aimed at Karl.”

Simak’s situation, as Chen Nu said, wasn’t ideal, but he could shield the ball well enough. He noticed Karl’s position was delicate, so he launched a powerful long ball toward him.

Grugiev’s head followed the ball as it spun through the air, finally confirming its trajectory—right to Karl. With his height of 193 centimeters, Karl easily outmatched number 3, Delseck, and number 6, Ebers. He wasn’t far from the penalty area either—if he controlled the ball, he could threaten the goal with a shot.

Grugiev moved back defensively; he doubted anyone would choose to pass in such a situation, or perhaps he never even considered the possibility. Yet Karl chose to pass. With a deft nod of his head, the ball angled left and slightly behind him—a tricky ball to deal with.

In the 2015 Champions League, Barcelona faced Bayern Munich. Thomas Müller delivered such a ball to Robert Lewandowski, and even the mighty Barcelona defense ended up double-marking one player, leaving Lewandowski free to shoot. Unfortunately, he struck the ball poorly despite the perfect setup.

“Beautiful! Number 30, Karl, drew the attention of three Duisburg defenders, but he passed instead. To whom? Momo! It’s Momo!”

In truth, Momo wasn’t confident about volleying the ball in this scenario without mishitting it. His composure rating of eighteen stopped him from making a reckless shot; instead, he chose to chest the ball down and dribble into the penalty area. As Momo controlled the ball with his chest, Duisburg’s goalkeeper, Brasas, almost launched himself forward, barely stopping in time, his balance precarious.

“Momo shoots—no, he’s breaking into the box!”

Momo nudged the ball with his left foot, his body leaning slightly to the left. His right foot lifted, presenting a shooting motion right before Brasas’ eyes. Number 30, Grugiev, had turned and was chasing toward the box. Brasas could only think, “He’s going to shoot—my right side!”

The next moment, Brasas threw himself to his right, but Momo’s move was just a feint. His raised foot dropped back down, and before he could lose his balance and fall, his left toe poked the ball. The ball struck the post, rebounded, and went into the net.

“Brilliant! Momo deceived the goalkeeper and managed to trip himself as well—oh! He scored! Number 30, Grugiev, didn’t catch up to the ball. Momo has equalized! It’s only the fifth minute—what a powerful comeback!”

With a fierce punch to the turf, Momo sprang to his feet, picked up the ball from inside the goal. Grugiev, visibly frustrated, bumped into Momo and growled,

“Do you think you’ll get another chance to score, kid?”

Momo staggered, glanced at Grugiev, pursed his lips, and said,

“Next time, it’ll be you fetching the ball from your own net.”

At that moment, the referee, Karl, and the others arrived. Grugiev’s face broke into a smile as wide as a chrysanthemum. Seeing this, the referee said nothing more.

Momo, too, remained silent. There was no need for idle words on the pitch. He would keep sending the ball into their goal, again and again, until they learned just how formidable he was.