Chapter 228: Chapter 228

Rome Olympic Stadium, the proud home of Serie A powerhouses Rome and Lazio, its name revealing its multifaceted and extraordinary grandeur.

This is a multifunctional stadium, so there is a track inside the field.

A wide track surrounds the green field, reminiscent of a colossal circular stage, awaiting the appearance of heroes.

It’s precisely because of this spacious interior that the Olympic Stadium’s spotlights are both large and bright.

Massive spotlights are hung at the four corners of the field, like four dazzling pearls, illuminating the Italian night as if it were day.

Under the bright spotlights, the sweat on the Inter Milan players is crystal clear, shining with a lustrous sheen.

At this moment, everyone, including Mancini’s assistant Herrera, the substitutes, and Chiwo, surrounded Tang Long, lifting him up in their arms and tossing him high!

Everyone squeezed towards the center of the crowd; everyone wanted to touch Tang Long with their arms, lifting him high as if to send him dancing with the stars in the sky!

This was indeed an incredibly tough match!

Looking at the data of both teams throughout the match, Juventus completely dominated Inter Milan.

In terms of ball possession, Juventus led with 75% over Inter Milan’s 25%.

The advantage in shots was even more pronounced. Juventus took a staggering 31 shots, with 12 on target.

Meanwhile, on Inter Milan’s side, counting Tang Long’s penalty goal, they had only 5 shots in total.

But it was precisely this single penalty goal, the only one on target, that helped Inter Milan secure a 1-0 victory over their opponent!

It truly proves the saying, it’s not the number of shots that matters, but their efficiency!

No wonder Sun Jihai in the Central 5 broadcast room commented on the match this way:

"There are many matches in the world of football where the weak defeat the strong, but in all the matches I’ve seen, none have been as thrilling and breathtaking as today’s!"

"In terms of ball possession and shots, Juventus heavily suppressed Inter Milan, being in an absolute leading position both tactically and in terms of player capabilities."

"But as the old saying goes, football is round. Tonight, Tang Long and his teammates have shown us that in football, anything is possible, haven’t they?"

Shao Jiayi, the Chinese star who once stunned Cottbus during his Bundesliga days with precise free-kicks and powerful long-range shots, offered his sincere congratulations to Tang Long.

"Congratulations to Inter Milan for their hard-fought victory over the powerful Serie A champion Juventus, clinching this season’s Coppa Italia title!"

"Let’s also congratulate Tang Long, this is his first championship title in his professional career!"

"At only 18 years old, to be a core starter in a century-old club like Inter, and score the winning goal, this is a dream for many Chinese players, and now Tang Long has taken the lead in achieving it!"

He Wei, as always, adhered to his commentary style,

delivering a poetic speech to the Chinese fans watching the game.

"In this ancient Olympic Stadium, on a night where starlight and dreams intertwine, a Chinese youth has written a legendary Chapter, under the name of the stars!"

"Tang Long, remember this name, tonight shining brightly under the Roman sky, like a meteor streaking across the sky, radiant and dazzling!"

"At eighteen, he bears burdens beyond measure, with a flaming heart, piercing through the strong enemy’s defenses with a penalty, building a monument of glory for Inter Milan!"

"This is not only a victory of technique but a coronation of belief and dreams!"

"Tang Long, you have painted an immortal poem on the green field with the strokes of youth, making every soul that loves football tremble."

"This is the pride of Chinese football; it is also the embarkation of dreams."

"Tonight, Rome witnesses the birth of a new star!"

After reciting this script in one breath, He Wei finally breathed a sigh of relief and slumped exhaustedly onto his chair.

This high-intensity game had kept his nerves tense for the entire 90 minutes.

Especially during the period from more than 70 minutes to more than 90 minutes when Inter Milan, relying on Tang Long’s penalty, took the lead.

Juventus’s fierce attacks kept He Wei’s nerves taut, unable to relax for even a moment, fearing that Juventus would equalize the score.

Fortunately, Inter held on till the end, and He Wei could crumple up the script prepared for Inter’s loss and toss it into the trash bin~

That’s right, even though Poet He effortlessly crafts articulate commentary in real-time, many of it is script prepared by dedicated staff before the game.

Of course, there are also his contributions within it.

At this moment, an excited voice came through He Wei’s earpiece:

"We did it, we did it, the viewership reached 7.9!"

"We perfectly achieved our goal, Old He, this half a billion spent by the station was well worth it!"

Upon hearing this, He Wei felt a surge of joy in his heart.

Who says Tang Long doing well in Europe, scoring goals and winning championships has nothing to do with ordinary people?

Look, the station’s ratings have gone up, the advertisers’ fees increased, and aren’t our employees’ year-end bonuses going to rise correspondingly?"

Hehehe, we also benefited from Tang Long’s success!

Meanwhile, on site at the match.

At the Olympic Stadium, the exclusive Sky Sports commentary box was also bustling.

Trezeget had made an early exit to avoid Ronaldo’s teasing.

Ronaldo was happily taking videos, singing, taking selfies, and still finding time to pose for photos, sign autographs, and chat with commentators from around the world from other booths.

"ESPN? Oh, ESPN is very famous. I like watching your channel’s tennis matches."

"You’re from Tokyo? I’ve been to Tokyo, the roast duck there was delicious—what, roast duck is from BJ? Oh, I got that wrong, my apologies!"

"You grew up watching me play? Come on, with that big beard of yours, you look even older than me, no need to say that!"

"Will I coach someday? If Mancini leaves, I’ll take over as head coach of Inter. Do you believe it? Haha!"

"How do I rate Buffon’s saves? He’s only brave enough to save shots from Muntari and Tang. Let him try saving one of my goals?"

"But I won’t give him the chance. When I played against Juventus before, my goals were so fast and ruthless, he had no chance to save them, hehe!"

"Let me tell you all, up until now, the only treble-winning team in Italian football is the team I played for, Inter Milan. Juventus can talk about it next season!"

"Prediction for the UEFA Europa League final? Seville is strong, but Inter is on a roll, hehe!"

"The Milan derby this weekend? Oh yeah, thanks for the reminder. I actually forgot the last round is the Milan derby!"

The leading commentator of Sky Sports, Dilata, was busy taking out a mirror to touch up her makeup. She removed her white flat shoes and slipped on her black stilettos, microphone in hand, she walked down to the field, ready to interview Inter’s players.

At this moment, the only hero in her eyes was Tang Long!

"This kid is really amazing..."

Thinking of his stylish Panenka penalty and his handsome back, Dilata, who had seen countless big events, felt her heart inexplicably flutter.

Seeing the crowded tunnel, Dilata wished she could grow wings and fly to Tang Long’s side for an immediate interview.

After the match, there was an award ceremony, so players from both teams stayed on the field.

Taking advantage of a break while staff set up the podium, Chiellini came over, leaning one arm on his national teammate Ranocchia.

"Hey, I really didn’t expect this result," Chiellini said, looking dejected. "Why do I feel like you guys don’t seem afraid of us at Juventus at all."

Ranocchia crossed his arms and laughed:

"Actually, we were afraid at first, but after Tang scored that penalty, we weren’t afraid anymore."

"In a high-stakes match , if an 18-year-old kid dares to take a Panenka penalty and can keep his cool, why can’t we experienced players do the same?"

Chiellini listened and couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly.

"Ha! That Panenka penalty really did us in. I’m telling you, even if he had placed it sharply into a corner, we were confident we could come back and even surpass you, but that Panenka, really..."

Chiellini paused, then said to Ranocchia:

"Now, the national team defense is still us four old bones. Talents like you are the future of Italian football."

Ranocchia smiled faintly, lost in thought.

Since Materazzi, it’s been a long time since the Italian national team’s defense has had a significant Inter player.

Tang Long was surrounded by reporters!

Having scored the only goal, he was undoubtedly chosen as the Player of the Match.

In front of the advertising board in the interview area, dozens of reporters surrounded him heavily.

Some reporters, unable to get a good position, had to run to the back of the advertising board, either standing on tiptoe and reaching their microphones over the top or crouching on the ground and sticking their microphones through gaps.

"Tang, how do you assess your performance in the match?"

"Can you tell us why you decided to take that Panenka penalty?"

"Does Icardi’s absence weaken Inter’s offense?"

"You’ve won your first career trophy; please share with us how you feel right now!"

"What are your expectations for the UEFA Europa League final? Are you confident you can defeat Seville just like you defeated Juventus?"

Tang Long was methodically answering the reporters’ questions when he saw a familiar figure in the distance.

It turned out, that Dilata, having been delayed from commentating the match, was almost the last reporter to arrive at the interview scene.

Most of the reporters were male. Dilata watched as she was surrounded by layers of people, only able to hear Tang Long’s voice but unable to see him. She stamped her feet anxiously!

"Let me in, let me in!"

Journalists naturally live off the news.

Those in advantageous positions were all eagerly asking questions, paying no attention to Dilata, who was stuck at the back.

This was not the time for chivalry.

"Hey! Dilata, come in!"

Tang Long poked his head out and waved at her.

Upon hearing his call, Dilata was overjoyed and hunched over, squeezing her way forward.

Finally, under Tang Long’s invitation, the crowd reluctantly made room, allowing the top anchor of Sky Sports to smoothly reach Tang Long.

Time was pressing; the award ceremony would start in five minutes. Seeing Tang Long’s face, Dilata was overwhelmed with excitement.

Her high heels had long since been lost in the crowd, and now barefoot with black stockings, standing on the grass, she ignored her smeared makeup and hastily thrust the microphone under Tang Long’s nose.

She was just about to ask a question when she noticed Tang Long’s expression was a bit off. He coughed and pointed at her collar.

Confused, Dilata suddenly realized that the other reporters’ expressions were off too, their eyes fixed on her collar.

She looked down and her face flushed instantly...