Chapter Nine: Pain and Sorrow

In the matches that followed, the Costa Rican players began to press aggressively, hoping to force China into chaos under pressure. Yet the Chinese team stood firm, like an unyielding reef, repelling Costa Rica’s attacks time and again. Amid the cheers of the fans, the Chinese players mounted a tenacious defense, refusing to concede ground in one-on-one duels and not giving up possession.

“Today, Costa Rica’s formation is very odd. Sometimes it shifts to a 5-2-3, in attack it becomes a 3-4-3, but when they fall back it’s clearly a 2-5-3. With these constant changes, China’s rhythm has started to falter,” Chen Nu’s voice betrayed his growing concern. So far, China had mounted few meaningful attacks; when they did manage to pass the ball forward, it either went too long or was forced out of play. Despite their fearless challenges and aerial duels, China’s energy would eventually be spent at this rate.

The defenders began passing among themselves at the back, trying to slow Costa Rica’s tempo. However, the Costa Rican forwards and midfielders pressed high, forcing the Chinese defenders to move the ball even more quickly, as if they dared not keep it at their feet.

“Number 21, Xu Yunlong, passes. Number 4, Wu Chengying, receives—wait, damn!” Just as the defense tried to slow the pace, Xu Yunlong’s pass reached Wu Chengying, who was immediately felled by a hard challenge from Costa Rican striker Ronald Gómez, number 11. Clearly, Costa Rica had no intention of letting the tempo drop.

Bora Milutinović watched with a stern expression, visibly worried about the situation on the pitch, his head constantly turning as if weighing his options. Only fifteen minutes had gone by.

Mo Mo sensed his teammates growing anxious. The recent free kick had been sent directly into Costa Rica’s box, but no one could reach it. They might enter the opposition half, but never got a shot on goal—what was the point? Fan Zhiyi, who had started the match relaxed, now looked increasingly flustered; the defensive line he commanded was beginning to waver, the relentless running and pressing already draining the team’s stamina.

As Mo Mo pondered, he saw a Chinese defender, baffled as a Costa Rican player shielded the ball from him with his back, finally resorting to bending down and peering between the opponent’s legs to locate the ball. How amateurish, Mo Mo thought in that instant.

“Number 9, Ma Mingyu! Ma Mingyu drives down the flank!” Chen Nu’s sudden shout, echoed by the roar in the broadcast, sent a surge of excitement through Chinese fans. Ahead of Ma Mingyu were Yang Chen and Hao Haidong, with teammates supporting from behind. Yet Ma Mingyu opted for a sweeping long pass, sending the ball straight out of play.

Mo Mo, who had leapt to his feet, felt instantly deflated by this decision. What was that? Far too many misplaced passes! Especially the earlier free kicks and corners. In this light, perhaps the media’s criticism of the Chinese team wasn’t entirely unfair.

The game went on. Hao Haidong was once again brought down; Costa Rica grew more resolute. China wasn’t playing poorly, but lacked effective methods, and their technical execution and passing truly needed improvement.

“Costa Rica breaks through! They’re nearing the box! Number 14, Li Weifeng! Li Weifeng lunges, clears the ball to goalkeeper Jiang Jin, averting the crisis!”

Chen Nu began to calm down. Though both sides seemed evenly matched, China exuded a lack of confidence. They fought bravely for the ball, but were reluctant to control it at their feet and break forward, preferring risky long balls and leaving things to chance.

Unfortunately, the Chinese players’ passing wasn’t accurate, nor were they adept at finding good positions, making it difficult for attacks to develop. Suddenly, defender Li Weifeng, number 14, launched a long ball toward the opposition’s box.

“Hao Haidong! It’s Hao Haidong!”

Four Costa Rican players, together with Hao Haidong and Yang Chen, raced toward the ball’s landing spot. Hao Haidong wasn’t particularly fast, but just as he neared the ball, he surged forward, leaving his Costa Rican marker behind. The ball bounced up as it hit the ground, and goalkeeper Lonnis left his line, bending low in anticipation.

“Shoot! Shoot! The net is open!” Chen Nu shouted passionately. Lonnis darted forward and leapt high. Hao Haidong also jumped for a volley, but Lonnis got there first, collecting the ball and knocking Hao Haidong to the ground. The Chinese fans sighed in unison.

Mo Mo furrowed his brow. That was a difficult chance—wasn’t it like using artillery to swat a fly? Even someone as explosive and skilled as Hao Haidong couldn’t handle it cleanly. Mo Mo couldn’t help but wonder if he might have done better in Hao Haidong’s place.

“Yellow card! That has to be a yellow!” Chen Nu’s voice blared like a broken horn. Moments earlier, in China’s half, the players had thrown themselves in to finally halt Costa Rica’s attack. A direct pass found Yang Chen, who spun brilliantly and was through on goal, only for number 3, Ma Lin, to commit a tactical foul out of desperation.

A rare counterattack, and it was spoiled just like that! The match continued. Around the twentieth minute, after a defensive clearance and a quick cross, number 7, Sun Jihai, accelerated down the right, heading for the box—crude sliding tackle from number 8, Solis!

A wave of boos and uproar swept the stadium. Another swift Chinese counterattack, yet again broken up by Solis’s brutal challenge. Chen Nu was in despair, and Mo Mo was deeply concerned—Sun Jihai still hadn’t gotten up.

Bora Milutinović was animated on the touchline, shouting instructions. Thankfully, Sun Jihai wasn’t seriously hurt and was able to continue.

China had a free-kick opportunity in the attacking third. Number 18, Li Xiaopeng, stepped up. Several Chinese players readied themselves in the Costa Rican penalty area.

“Good! Good! Beautiful curve on this free kick!” Chen Nu shouted. It was Li Xiaopeng’s best delivery yet—a perfect arc through the air. A flash of white soared above the rest—it was number 14, Li Weifeng, rising for the header! But Costa Rica’s goalkeeper rushed out, leapt above all, and claimed the ball, overpowering Li Weifeng.

The ball was punched far away. Mo Mo stood up, tense. Li Weifeng lay in Costa Rica’s box but, thankfully, could continue. Sun Jihai, previously injured, signaled that he was also able to return.

The match became tense again. Suddenly, Yang Chen—a brilliant through ball from Li Weifeng!

“Beautiful! Li Weifeng! Under pressure from three, he found Yang Chen in space! Yang Chen’s pace! He’s into the box! Yang Chen!!”

Yang Chen accelerated between two defenders, reaching the ball first. The entire stadium erupted. Splendid! Absolutely splendid! Mo Mo couldn’t help but leap up. Yang Chen had control before the defenders.

The roar from the Chinese fans grew even louder. A Costa Rican defender crashed in from Yang Chen’s right, but Yang Chen showed no fear.

“Yang Chen shoots! He goes in with a sliding shot!”

Realizing he couldn’t wait any longer or he’d reach the byline, Yang Chen went for the slide, but the Costa Rican defender slid in as well. The two tangled, the ball didn’t go in, and as Yang Chen rolled over, he swung his leg again, sending the ball out of play.

“What a pity! So close, but the defender reacted quickly! If only... if only... Ah!” Chen Nu’s voice was full of regret. In that moment, he almost believed China would take the lead. Not just him—even Mo Mo in the stands thought it was a sure goal, everything had flowed so well.

The match went on. China had a few more attacks, but Costa Rica’s goalkeeper Lonnis easily dealt with them. Costa Rica had a one-on-one opportunity, but Jiang Jin’s efforts kept the Chinese goal intact.

Both sides exchanged attacks. China’s defenders, even when they struggled to win the ball, threw themselves into sliding tackles to clear it, risking injury—everyone was giving their all.

During this period, Bora Milutinović grew increasingly anxious. As Sun Jihai saw more of the ball, Costa Rica’s fouls against him increased. Sun Jihai was Milutinović’s trump card; if he were injured and forced off, all their tactical plans would be for nothing.

“Ah! The earlier harsh tackle on Sun Jihai has left him barely able to run. Unless he’s on the ball, he’s limping badly. It looks like the painkillers and treatment are only a temporary fix,” Chen Nu said with a sigh. The first half was already halfway done. Neither side had scored, and the much-anticipated Sun Jihai was now injured. What would Milutinović try next?

But then, Chen Nu suddenly remembered—of course! There was still Mo Mo! Not only Chen Nu, but Bora Milutinović turned to look at Mo Mo, visibly deep in thought. Mo Mo’s eagerness to play was obvious to anyone with eyes. Would Mo Mo get his chance on the field?