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Best Manager: I'll summon the best player and conquer the Europe

Rashid Alfaro faced a personal tragedy with the death of his daughter. Leaving his previous role behind, Rashid traveled to Italy to coach A.C. Aeterna, a once-legendary club now languishing in the third division due to a financial collapse and mounting debts. Rashid was fully aware that the club was on the brink of dissolution, struggling with unpaid wages and financial ruin. He took on the role not to save the club but to perhaps share its downfall. One night, while playing an old casino machine at his hotel, Rashid received a mysterious card featuring a legendary player. It turned out the card was part of the Legendary Spirit System, a powerful cheat that allowed him to summon the souls of legendary players to possess current players, granting them their prime abilities. “I summoned [Franz Beckenbauer].” “I summoned [Johan Cruyff].” Armed with this newfound power, Rashid’s ambitions shifted. No longer resigned to despair, he set his sights on conquering European football.

Sukar_Dipercaya · sport
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14 Chs

Miracle of San Siro

Sandro and Enzo nodded in agreement. Despite still looking uncertain, Enzo glanced towards the field and then walked back to his teammates to relay Rashid's latest instructions.

Meanwhile, Martinelli observed their movements with suspicion before snorting. "No, no, no. What am I even worried about? No matter what changes in strategy they plan, the outcome won't change. Their fate is sealed."

Martinelli couldn't help but pity them. What was supposed to be a confidence-building pre-season match for Aeterna would end in disaster.

He quickly called his players to set up a set-piece as they practiced. Andrea Bozzolan, Milan's best free-kick taker, stepped up, while Marco Nesti positioned himself near the goalpost to disrupt Aeterna's defenders.

The whistle blew, and the ball was kicked.

It didn't even make it past the sturdy human wall formed by Aeterna's players.

Martinelli briefly thought this would be another golden opportunity, but it didn't pay off. Although Milan recovered the ball, it kept circling around Aeterna's final third.

Aeterna's compact midfield was proving highly effective, crowding the defense and causing Milan to lose momentum repeatedly, leaving them stuck in the middle.

Adrian Bacetti, Milan's right winger, finally ended the attack with a frustrated shot that didn't even threaten Aeterna's goal.

The score was 3-0 in the 70th minute. Martinelli said nothing about the wasted effort. "This is annoying. I probably won't win by 10 goals, but a 5 to 7-goal difference is still possible."

The Aeterna goalkeeper played the ball out again, aiming for E. Moretti, who moved it forward as before.

"Naive kid." Martinelli wasn't going to let what happened in the first 25 minutes go unnoticed. He just needed tighter pressing, especially since only one of Aeterna's three defenders was comfortable on the ball.

"Body advantage? There's always that in football." But it's not without a solution.

So, Martinelli positioned Kevin Zeroli to block E. Moretti's vision and deployed Nico Neta, an aggressive Brazilian box-to-box midfielder, to intercept.

The three closed in, waiting for E. Moretti to panic, make a mistake, or clear the ball.

This was Aeterna's naivety. There's a reason why the original tiki-taka is hardly used in modern football. Not every team can have its own Messi, and more effective strategies have emerged. It's not as boring as "Parking the Bus." It evolved from Germany's hard-pressed, physical play: Gegenpressing.

Gegenpressing puts the ball-holder under the pressure of not one, but two or even three players. When executed, the ball carrier has no room to move, forcing them to either pass the ball or be taken out. It's the perfect counter to slow-paced play like tiki-taka.

Its impact was immediate. E. Moretti looked baffled as Kevin Zeroli and Nico Neta closed in. He didn't even notice Marco Nesti moving in from behind.

"Just as planned." Martinelli's smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Gegenpressing might look like a perfect tactic, using physical attributes and momentum to create dynamic playmaking, but it's not without flaws.

Sending too many players to one spot opens up gaps in the areas they leave behind.

A perfect setup for direct play.

E. Moretti launched the ball to the far post. It wasn't a precise through ball, but in direct play, you need only three things: power, a bit of luck, and a nimble forward.

Francessco Mancini, Aeterna's forward positioned on the right, was quickly closed down by two players, leaving him no room to cut inside.

But he didn't need to. Mancini sent a low cross, allowing the ball to bypass Milan's defenders, rolling toward the far post. Waiting there was another Aeterna striker, Paolo Conti.

Paolo Conti took aim for a historic goal at San Siro.

Then he slipped.

It happened so suddenly that everyone was left gaping.

The ball kept rolling, and the first to react was Samir Khan, Aeterna's only Asian player and their left-back. With a single touch, he took the shot.

It wasn't as powerful as Marco Nesti's strikes, but it was a cold, calculated shot.

"GOAL!"

The scoreboard changed to 3-1.

Martinelli rubbed his face in disbelief. Milan dominated the game, creating more chances. So why had the goal come for them?

Martinelli clicked his tongue. Even after the kick-off resumed, his curiosity lingered. One chance, one goal—that was just pure luck. 'My players don't seem used to this kind of situation either.'

He ordered his team to return to their quick-passing game, aiming to break through Aeterna's backline, but it was futile. Milan couldn't manage a single shot on target. All their players looked more exhausted than before.

Aeterna had adjusted their formation, pulling their defense deeper. Their packed midfield had transformed into an impenetrable barrier.

'Especially that big guy.'

If he remembered correctly, his name was Alessandro Bianchi. After fouling Marco Nesti, he had stepped up as a solid wall in defense, blocking several of Milan's attacks and even cutting off plays before they could begin.

Like now. When Kevin Zeroli received the ball, Sandro didn't mark Marco Nesti anymore. Instead, he moved forward to confront Kevin directly.

The sudden move caught Kevin off guard, nearly forcing him to lose possession and creating a counterattack opportunity for Aeterna.

During a brief water break, Andrea Bozzolan approached Martinelli. "Coach, maybe we should slow down the tempo. It's already the 78th minute, the players are exhausted, and it's just a pre-season game. We need to consider the injury risk."

"Hey, kid." Martinelli snatched the water bottle from Andrea's hand. "Do you know who I am?"

Andrea looked at him, puzzled. "I'm not sure what you mean, Coach—"

"I'm the coach! Get it?" Martinelli barked, drawing stares from nearby players. "And you're the player. Your job is to follow my orders to win. Now get back out there and play properly. I won't tolerate any more mistakes."

Andrea gulped. "Y-yes, Coach." 

Martinelli had been in a foul mood since the last goal, and taking advice from an academy player was the last thing he wanted.

Meanwhile, Rashid turned to the bench and called for Luca, who was daydreaming. "Your turn."

At first, Luca looked around, thinking Rashid was speaking to someone else. But the player next to him nudged him. "This is your chance, Luca."

Grinning widely, Luca got up to warm up. Five minutes later, he replaced Paolo Conti.

Was this because Paolo almost squandered their best chance? Partially, yes. Paolo, usually a left-winger, couldn't be expected to finish calmly. However, his willingness to play slightly out of position was already admirable.

But with time running out, Rashid needed a sharper, more ruthless finisher. Someone like Luca.

Luca's first touch became his first opportunity. He intercepted Andrea Bozzolan's attempt to build up play. Even though only two Milan defenders stood in his way, Luca was still outnumbered.

It was the 84th minute, and Aeterna's players were too far behind to help, lacking the stamina for a fast break.

But Luca never needed any help. He didn't even glance back.

Luca charged forward, undaunted by the two players zoning him. When he was inches from the penalty line, he shot. 

Or at least, that's what he intended to show.

Andrea Bozzolan was fooled by the fake shot. Andrea's partner moved to cover.

But Luca had already seen the gap, and once he saw it, he was unstoppable.

Luca released a curved shot, elegantly arcing past the Milan goalkeeper.

"GOAL."

The scoreboard now read 3-2.

Luca celebrated, not towards his opponents but directly in front of Rashid, pointing to his eyes as if to say, 'Did you see that, Coach? That's the talent you've been wasting all this time.'

Rashid couldn't help but feel annoyed, slightly regretting putting Luca on. 'He's been on for just two minutes, and he's already boasting.'

But those were two critical minutes, and while Rashid hated to admit it, he couldn't deny Luca had made a game-changing impact.

Clicking his tongue, Martinelli contemplated. Despite his annoyance, he couldn't ignore that Bozzolan's suggestion had some merit. Winning by any margin would suffice; there was no need for extravagance in a pre-season match.

Milan resumed play, but with a calmer approach, no longer relentless in their pressing. When in possession, they slowed the tempo, playing it safe.

This shift should have been an opening for Aeterna, but they, too, were exhausted. Meanwhile, Milan refreshed their squad with substitutes, whereas Aeterna had only theree players left to substitute, one being the goalkeeper Dario Ricci, whom Rashid saw no advantage in replacing.

The match descended into a stalemate until the 90th minute.

A Milan player fouled Enzo during a build-up in the second third, resulting in a free kick.

Rashid ordered his players to position themselves as they would for a set-piece. The Milan players were puzzled, given the free kick was 43 meters from their goal.

It would take a kicker with exceptional power to send a precise pass that far. Nevertheless, Enzo positioned the ball confidently, took a deep breath, and kicked it with all his might.

Andrea Bozzolan scanned the field. Aeterna had three players who could potentially reach the ball: Ethan Caldwell, Luca Santoro, and Alessandro Bianchi.

Ethan was marked by a taller Milan defender. Sandro's position on the far post seemed unreachable.

The focus shifted to Luca. Andrea stuck close, mirroring Luca's every move, even jumping in sync.

It was the wrong timing. Luca's head didn't even graze the ball. "Did he misstep?" 

Unless …

"Not your lucky day, my friend."

As Andrea landed, he realized who loomed behind him. The towering figure wrapped him in shadow.

Sandro leaped like he was flying. In set-piece situations, Andrea knew he couldn't mark Sandro effectively. The height difference was five centimeters. The only one capable of stopping Sandro was Marco Nesti, but he was positioned upfront, ready for sudden counter-attack.

But that counter never came. What followed felt like the final blow from a nightmare.

Sandro headed the ball to the tight top-right corner of Milan's goal. No goalkeeper could stop that.

"GOALLL!"

The scoreboard now showed 3-3, and nothing could be sweeter for the Aeterna players than hearing the final whistle blow 30 seconds later.

They jumped and celebrated as if this pre-season draw had just won them a grand trophy.

This wasn't a win. It didn't bring them a trophy. Their opponents weren't even the first team. But it was a milestone. A foundation. A benchmark they could use to gauge their future growth.

Meanwhile, Rashid approached Martinelli, ready to shake hands and offer a final gesture of respect.

"Good game," Martinelli said stiffly, avoiding Rashid's eyes as he had confidently done before.

"It's a pity we couldn't take it to penalties. It would've suited the mood," Rashid added.

Martinelli was immediately provoked. "Don't be arrogant, kid. You're celebrating this like a victory. Sure, you made a great comeback, but so what? Is there a trophy for that?"

Rashid shrugged. "Do we need to make one right here?"

Martinelli clicked his tongue. "Next time we meet, it'll be an official match, and Milan won't show mercy. You can take pride in drawing with a bunch of youngsters, but the main squad is on a completely different level. When we meet again, there will be no draw." The old man stomped off toward the locker room, clearly seething.

Rashid had to agree with that statement, even seeing it as the start of a rivalry.

'Next time we meet, it'll be a battle for survival.'