The commentators from various countries simply couldn't stop roaring.
"Sean charges through, a silky change of direction, a perfect dodge, a beautiful shot!"
"Sean has once again delivered a goal worthy of being in contention for the best of the season!"
"A long-distance run, wow~ a perfect combination of various talents!"
"3-0, Ajax's victory is secured."
"I guess Feyenoord must be very concerned about Ajax's counterattacks, otherwise they wouldn't desperately resort to tactical fouls.
But they certainly didn't expect Sean alone could deal with them!"
"..."
...
Bergkamp finally managed to compose himself.
He couldn't help it; having been teammates with Henry for so many years, it was truly inexcusable that he hadn't first connected Sean with Henry.
Of course, this was also due to the differences in their preferred dribbling styles and Sean's habit of exerting himself more in and around the penalty area.
However, he should try to give Sean more responsibility in the future. After all, his range of activity is already very wide, so developing his driving and organizational abilities shouldn't be a problem, right?
Tactical arrangements centered around Sean could definitely multiply!
That's not urgent. The current problem is...
Bergkamp looked at Sean, who was returning to his own half, then turned to Frank de Boer, "Shouldn't we substitute Sean?"
Frank de Boer pondered for a moment, then shook his head, "Dennis, you should know very well that a player's greatest wish at this moment is to score another goal and complete a hat-trick."
"Of course I know, but~" Bergkamp looked at his colleague next door.
The Feyenoord coaching bench had recovered from its silence. Head coach Koeman was fuming. He was an old fox, absolutely rich in experience, and such a display was enough to show that he had been overly provoked.
If the head coach was like this, what about the players on the field?
What if some hot-headed guy gave Sean a scissor tackle?
Frank de Boer nodded, then shook his head, "First, let the players warm up, then we'll see. If the situation isn't right, we can still make a substitution in time."
Geniuses, under permissible circumstances, always receive preferential treatment.
Bergkamp was silent for a moment, then finally nodded in agreement.
Professional players always have to adapt to various situations, including malicious fouls from opponents. There's no escaping them, so learning how to deal with them now is quite good...
On his way back to his own half, Sean inadvertently saw Van Beek being helped up, and his heart stirred slightly:
'This guy has been performing very well before, is his mentality cracking now?
If so, can I find a breakthrough from him in the rest of the match?'
The more Sean thought about it, the more sense it made. However, when he crossed the center circle and stood still, he was stunned.
Feyenoord was making a substitution.
Nelom replaced Van Beek.
This was a direct substitution in the center-back position.
Clearly, Feyenoord's head coach Koeman had noticed Van Beek's emotional issues.
Sean shook his head,
'Koeman, this old man, is too inhumane. Van Beek just failed once and he's already taken him off, not even giving him a chance to redeem himself. He's really not afraid of hitting Van Beek's confidence!'
Complaining aside, Sean could only abandon his previous idea and look for another way.
Feyenoord kicked off again.
Ajax immediately pressed high in the attacking third.
The Feyenoord players were flustered, nearly making mistakes several times, and center-back Mathijsen could only clear the ball with a long kick.
Ajax center-back Denswil headed the ball back into the attacking third before Pellè could reach it.
Blind took the ball, and Ajax organized another attack.
Sean dropped back into the penalty area to receive the ball. Just as he received it and turned, someone slid in from the front.
'Damn it~'
Sean cursed inwardly, hurriedly jumping to avoid it.
"Bang!"
He still fell heavily to the ground.
There was nothing he could do; this guy wasn't just tackling, he also raised his foot and showed his studs. Sean really couldn't avoid it.
Sean clutched his calf and opened his mouth wide, in too much pain to even cry out.
Bojan led the charge, and the Ajax players swarmed the perpetrator.
Nelom, who had just come on, didn't look so grim, successfully shielding his teammates.
"Beep beep beep~"
The referee blew his whistle and rushed into the crowd.
"Fuck!"
On the sidelines, Frank de Boer jumped up, cursing and rushing towards the fourth official.
Bergkamp, meanwhile, was urging the team doctor to get on the field quickly~
Fortunately, Sean ultimately wasn't seriously injured. After being sprayed with painkiller, he stood up smoothly and had no problems after walking a few steps.
The stretcher team the team doctor had called onto the field was useless.
However, Frank de Boer had already made a substitution: Hossen replaced Sean.
Sean could only leave the field with the team doctor and others.
Only,
Sean turned to look at the opponent's goal, his heart full of regret: if only his free-kick level was higher.
The referee had made his ruling: Nelom received a yellow card, and Ajax was awarded a free-kick.
A free-kick outside the big penalty area, to be honest, the distance was a bit too close; it was easily blocked by the wall, and those that successfully cleared the wall were also very likely to fly out of the goal area.
In short, only players whose free-kick level was high enough could handle a free-kick from this distance.
Not just Sean, but there were no free-kick masters of that caliber in the current Ajax team.
If it were two or three meters further out, Sean felt he could have had some expectation.
"Sigh~"
Sean shook his head, only able to leave the field with regret.
This match would most likely end like this, which wasn't so bad. At least he was one step closer to his first championship trophy in his professional career, wasn't he...?
Sean walked towards the substitutes' bench, escorted by Frank de Boer and Bergkamp.
Bojan looked at Sean's retreating figure thoughtfully: He's shaking his head and sighing even when the free-kick distance isn't right. Does this kid want to win by such a big margin?
"I'll take it!"
Bojan raised his hand to Blind.
Blind shrugged, cheerfully giving up the ball.
It was just a free-kick, and one with a less-than-ideal distance, so there was really nothing to argue about.
Bojan set the ball down. Upon hearing the whistle, he started his run, his left foot stepping heavily next to the ball on the last stride, his whole body seeming to stutter slightly.
As the Feyenoord wall instinctively jumped, Bojan's right foot also struck the ball heavily.
"Thwack~"
The ball, like an arrow, shot through the bottom of the wall, hugging the ground and heading straight for the bottom right corner of the Feyenoord goal.
"Thud!"
It hit the inside of the post and bounced into the net!
In the 73rd minute, Ajax 4-0 Feyenoord!
Wow~
Sean jumped up with the fans, cheering loudly as he rushed towards the sidelines.
"Hahahaha~"
Bojan also laughed loudly as he ran over, jumping into Sean's arms:
"Hey, kid, big brother got revenge for you. What do you think of that goal?"
"Beautiful, absolutely beautiful," Sean said, putting Bojan down and high-fiving him in celebration, "Thank you very much!"
Bojan nodded in satisfaction, then turned to meet his other teammates who were catching up...
...
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