CHAPTER 351: CHAPTER 271: WITHOUT HART AND AGÜERO, HOW WILL MANCHESTER CITY PLAY THIS MATCH? _2

Later, Dilata found an excuse to pull Tang Long aside, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She whispered, "Wow, big star! So you like petite white girls, eh? You even managed to win over the Manchester Mayor’s precious daughter. You’re quite the ladies’ man indeed!"

Having been in the news industry for years, Dilata’s keen eyes had long developed the instinct to catch details.

Recalling the Facetime call at Milan Airport, where Tang Long was shirtless and those pale, delicate hands gently rested on his shoulders, with a slight scar on her finger joint, Dilata couldn’t help but feel a ripple of jealousy in her heart.

Tang Long waved his hand and righteously explained that it wasn’t like that. They were just ordinary friends, and he had only just learned that she was the Mayor’s daughter.

Of course, Dilata wouldn’t believe Tang Long’s nonsense. She only thought the guy was worse than she had imagined.

"Alright then, I’m off to prepare for an interview. By the way, I’ve been staying at the Hilton in the city center these past few days. If there’s any news about Manchester City, I count on you, the beloved big star, to help. Got it?" With a slight smile, she lifted her red high heel and stomped hard on Tang Long’s shoe before turning her head and walking away, leaving behind the echo of high heels in the air.

Tang Long winced and turned to find that Gracie had disappeared.

Kolarov and Ranocchia were looking at him.

"I want to be stepped on by her high heels too," Kolarov squinted, watching Dilata’s graceful silhouette.

"Where’s Gracie?" Tang Long ignored Kolarov and asked Ranocchia.

"She said she had something to take care of and left while you were talking to Dilata," Ranocchia replied, smiling.

In the afternoon, Tang Long, Ranocchia, and Kolarov continued representing the Manchester City Club.

They went to Manchester City’s training ground with some retired players, split into two teams, and played a half-hour seven-a-side football match.

Watching these gray-haired players in their fifties and sixties running and fighting on the field, Tang Long felt a wave of emotion in his heart.

He was about to turn 19.

With the ongoing advances in modern medical technology, it’s not difficult for him to play for another seventeen or eighteen, even twenty years, if he persists.

But these seniors with changed physiques and graying temples, many in their early thirties or even younger were forced to retire due to injuries or various reasons, and their figures seem somewhat forlorn under the passage of time.

Among them were warriors who had battled in England’s top league, but the glory and rewards of that time appear so humble and distant compared to the brilliance of today’s Premier League stars.

At this moment, someone scored a goal. Teammates ran over to hug and celebrate, and Tang Long rushed over, shouting together.

Reporters and spectators on the sidelines were also infected by this cross-age enthusiasm; applause thundered, and cheers echoed.

The old-timer who scored, with moist eyes, bowed deeply toward the sidelines. At that moment, it was as if time reversed, bringing him back to his golden era when he ran freely on the green field chasing an eternal football dream.

Tang Long thought, if at 60, he could still play football and indulge in the pure joy the sport brings to life, how wonderful that would be.

Then, there would be no more daily rigorous training, no sharp media critiques, nor the heavy pressure of rankings, but only a heart whose love for football never dims, perhaps the most precious gift football gives to life.

...

"Hart, has the match started yet?"

Sunday afternoon, around three o’clock.

By the roadside in the suburbs of Manchester, Agüero was cleaning the pavement with a broom alongside a sanitation worker, anxiously shouting across the street to Hart.

"It should be soon; my phone’s dead, can’t check!"

Mr. Hart, also wearing sanitation clothes, towered with the goalie’s height. With a roll of his sleeves, trash bags were obediently thrown into the garbage truck’s embrace one by one, each filled with fallen leaves, and he didn’t forget to showcase his Premier League Golden Glove-level "hand throw technique."

"I don’t know if Caballero, my backup, can handle it, eh? Last season, he didn’t have much playtime in the league. Hope he doesn’t get battered by Southampton!" Hart worriedly said.

"Don’t worry about my Argentine compatriot," Agüero said. "I’m just worried about Bony. The guy often can’t keep up with Tang’s strategy in training. Will he manage in a formal match?"

These two unfortunate comrades, Hart and Agüero, despite briefly losing their temper, resulted in a three-match suspension from the Premier League post-match ruling, along with a 50-hour community service package, but the fire for football in their hearts, even on this match day afternoon, remained fiercely burning as they swept the litter.

One is the main striker, last season’s Premier League Golden Boot, the team’s current top scorer;

One is the main goalkeeper, last season’s 14 clean sheets Golden Glove, the club’s most senior homegrown player.

If not for this suspension incident, they should now be standing at the Etihad Stadium, engaging in a "friendly" exchange with visiting Southampton under five thousand eyes.

Yet reality sees them battling against garbage, cleaning every corner of this community.

This feeling is like asking a warrior to put down his gun to embroider, that itch in the heart!

"Hey, buddy, lend me your phone to watch the match, just ten minutes, I promise it won’t interfere with work!" Agüero flattered, attempting to conquer the co-worker’s defenses with sweet talk.

"Forget it, you kept checking your phone yesterday, that’s why the supervisor confiscated it before we set out today. He said if you don’t focus on sweeping, we’ll all suffer. Watch the match? I wish I could watch it live!" The co-worker refused.

Agüero’s eyes spun, pulling the co-worker aside and came up with an idea: "Mate, if you lend me your phone to watch the match, I’ll give you a ticket to Manchester City’s home game later, a VIP box with snacks and drinks that sell for 800 British Pounds outside."

The co-worker chuckled, "Sorry, I’m a Manchester United fan."

Agüero sulked, made a "see you never" gesture at the co-worker, cursed Wenger under his breath, and continued head down sweeping.

...

Etihad Stadium.

The match between Manchester City and Southampton had reached the 72nd minute in the second half.

The score was 1-1, with both teams scoring once.

Tang Long retreated, received a direct pass from Ranocchia, made a feint to bypass the close opponent in midfield, Prowse, dribbled forward two steps, then exchanged a one-two with Sterling on the left flank, and subsequently delivered a precise through-pass to Bony!

"Now there must be a goal!" Tang Long eagerly looked at Bony, cutting diagonally into the penalty area...