After signing with AC Milan, I will be the king of football!-Chapter 672 - 0260 It’s normal that the front waist scoop pass is not good (please subscribe)_2

Stepping back can solve the problem of dealing with half-volleys?

But 0.01 seconds later, Alves’ smile froze. He saw Huang Kaiwen step back, supporting himself on his left foot, twisting his body, and forcefully launching into the air. His right foot fiercely struck the ball.

Bang—

Alves instinctively wanted to reach out his hand to spoil the shot, but as soon as his elbow went up, he felt a gust of strong wind blow past him, blowing his curly short hair wildly backward.

Although he hadn’t turned around yet, the rustling noise of the ball spinning against the net let Alves know.

Turning around, Alves saw the ball bounce on the ground and roll slowly out of the goal line.

They had conceded another goal.

Boom—"Saint Kevin!"

"Saint Kevin!"

"Saint Kevin!"

Numerous fans at Stade Louis II leapt up excitedly from their seats and clapped frenetically.

The local fans were even more feverish than the visiting Real Madrid supporters, almost as if Catholicism were Monaco’s official state religion by constitutional decree.

Huang Kaiwen pointed to the sky with both hands, mimicking Kaka’s celebration, igniting their emotions perfectly.

After a few steps, Huang Kaiwen lifted the outer shirt over his head, revealing the white undershirt beneath.

The message on Huang Kaiwen’s white shirt read, "Wishing Angel good health."

The other Real Madrid players on the side weren’t in a hurry to celebrate; they were just hugging Huang Kaiwen’s shoulders and waving to the stands.

In the stands, the little old man with the oxygen tube in his nose waved his scrawny hands, turning in place, excitedly yelling to those around him: "It’s me, Kevin mentioned me, I’m such a lucky person, it’s so good to be alive..."

The head referee, Plautz, looked over. Since Huang Kaiwen hadn’t completely removed his jersey, he lowered his raised arm.

An infuriated Alves charged up to Plautz and shouted, "Why don’t you give him a yellow card? Didn’t FIFA stipulate that players are not allowed to remove their shirts?"

Plautz turned and looked Alves up and down. Two seconds later, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a yellow card, and raised it high towards Alves.

"Fuck, damn..."

Alves’ cursing was muffled by Boulahrouz’s hand covering his throat.

Jose Marti quickly approached to help Boulahrouz hold back the struggling Alves.

Having already received a yellow card, now daring to challenge the referee, did he really think the referee would indulge him?

Strictly speaking, Alves could have been sent off by now.

It was only because Plautz hadn’t taken those two words too personally.

Juan de Ramos clenched his teeth as he watched everything unfolding on the field.

He now understood why the opposing coaches of Real Madrid and Milan often sought the help of a wizard.

Because that number ten was too strong!

Like a gravely ill person, who, knowing it’s pointless, still kept giving money to charlatans for a bit of comfort.

Alves was too eager to see Huang Kaiwen booked; the pressure from Huang Kaiwen was too much for the entire Sevilla team, all of whom wished Huang Kaiwen could be taken off the field.

Juan de Ramos felt the same way.

That number ten hadn’t even moved much today, yet he’d already scored two goals and provided one assist.

If he actually runs hard, will Sevilla end up like that South Korean team?

Fortunately, the first half was almost over.

In the locker room at halftime, it wasn’t about changing tactics but at least calming the players down.

The second half began with Kanoute passing the ball back after the kickoff, then receiving Renato’s pass.

Kanoute pushed the ball forward quickly, but De Jong rushed up and tackled fiercely, sending the ball behind Kanoute.

Head referee Plautz blew the whistle for halftime.

Robben jogged to Huang Kaiwen’s side, and while Sneijder thought Robben’s behavior amusing, he soon realized his teammates were rushing past him, clustering around Huang Kaiwen towards the sidelines, leaving him walking back alone.

Sneijder finally realized there was a reason for Robben’s actions. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Shit, the bald ones are indeed the slyest!

Sneijder decided to preserve that bit of innocence in his heart, to protect his already high hairline at all costs, definitely not to collude with the baldies.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable today, Kevin?"

Capello asked, passing him a towel.

"I’m alright, just don’t feel much like running, playing against Sevilla is enough."

Huang Kaiwen said with a smile.

[Being Berbatov] is also a pretty good experience.

The Yellow Ball King wanted to try if he could break Beba’s record of an entire game with 2033 meters covered.

That record was so ridiculous, even goalkeepers like Casillas, who stayed on their goal line, had to run over 3000 meters when the opposition barely attacked.

"Well, if you’re not feeling well, tell me, I’ll have Higuain substitute for you later,"

Capello said, nodding.

Standing behind Capello, Higuain clenched his fists.

He had no complaints about substituting for Huang Kaiwen, but Capello’s easygoing tone irked him.

As if he, Higuain, was some nobody.

Higuain decided next time he’d go out and buy a box of awls to replace the previous bricks.

"Let’s celebrate the championship at my house tomorrow. I’ve invited a band to perform,"

Guti said.

"You just want to take the opportunity to let journalists photograph your band for some publicity!"

Salgado accused without mincing words.

Guti, a music enthusiast with a record company that signed several rock bands, also had business interests in wineries, restaurants, and real estate.

"It’s all the same, we have to celebrate anyway,"

Guti replied with a smile.

"Alright then, if we win the championship, we’ll celebrate tomorrow,"

Raul agreed, nodding.

Always freeloading off Huang Kaiwen didn’t seem right.

Amid the Real Madrid fans’ anthem, players from both teams returned to the field.