If he scores another, I'll eat my shoe live

Rewind to five minutes ago.

In the ESPN studio.

Adrian said, "Zidane is heading to the bench, looks like he's about to make a substitution. Based on past games, he'll probably pull Bale and bring on James Rodriguez for his excellent vision and long-range shooting, to boost the midfield's attacking power."

Taylor nodded, a smug grin on his face as a die-hard Barcelona fan: "Thinking they can turn this game around now is a pipe dream. They're just trying to score a consolation goal at this point."

"Huh?"

Adrian sounded surprised, a bit unsure: "The player warming up with number 67 is..."

He couldn't quite remember the name of the American player, flipping through his notes with a slight embarrassment before continuing, "Is that Ethan Chase?"

"Him?"

Taylor reminisced, "Ethan Chase, 20 years old, born in Seattle, plays as an attacking midfielder. He's got great vision and a knack for long shots, once hailed as one of the most talented American players in recent years. Shame he ignored advice and moved to Europe, fading from the American soccer scene. Let's see if he can make an impact tonight."

He couldn't help but chuckle at the end.

Clearly, he wasn't holding out much hope for Ethan Chase, even thinking it was a bit of a joke to play such a relatively average American player in such a crucial match.

But since they were live, he quickly composed himself.

The online audience in the studio's chat was less composed, their comments flying fast.

"Real Madrid is actually putting an Yankee on? Are they serious? This isn't how you tank a game."

"I don't like that comment above. What do you mean 'actually putting an Yankee on'? Our American players can play too, you know."

"Look at them now, all out of shape, can't even keep up with the pace, it's embarrassing."

"True that. Ethan's only good enough for domestic games. Against Barca, he probably won't even get a touch. If I were him, I'd head back to the States and save myself the embarrassment."

The chat was filled with insults, doubts, and mockery, and even the few supportive comments for Ethan were quickly drowned out by the rest.

...

Back at the Santiago Bernabéu Stadium, the game continued.

Cristiano Ronaldo stood six feet from the ball, legs set apart like a compass, his gaze fixed on Barcelona's goal.

His eyes were fierce and determined, with a burning desire to score.

As the king of Bernabéu, he was determined to score and salvage some pride for Real Madrid.

Damn, a free kick.

I wish I could take it!!!

Ethan watched eagerly as the ball was placed just outside the box, his eyes just as fiery.

After maxing out his free-kick skills, he was 90% sure he could send the ball into Barcelona's net.

But at this moment, he hardly had his teammates' trust, so how could he possibly take such a crucial and perfectly positioned free kick?

Just then, a new message popped up before Ethan.

[Triggered mission: Score a free kick for Real Madrid]

Huh?

Ethan was momentarily stunned, then felt a bitter twist in his stomach. Was the system messing with him on purpose?

Not only had it messed up his skills, but now it was making him score a free kick for Real Madrid?

He was being forced to take the free kick!!!

Screw it, let's do this.

Ethan, with a determined look, walked up to Cristiano Ronaldo and whispered, "Hey, CR7, let's play a tactic. I'll pretend to take the free kick, you take it after they fall for it, sound good?"

Cristiano, initially wary, looked Ethan over and seeing his earnest face, nodded in agreement.

There had been a game before where James had said something similar...

This time, it should be different.

"Whistle!!!"

As the referee blew the whistle, Ethan sprinted towards the ball and, under the wide-eyed stares of everyone, fiercely kicked it.

Sorry, Cristiano.

If I don't do something, I probably won't have a chance to stay at Real Madrid.

This is my only shot.

Back in the ESPN studio.

As Ethan sprinted towards the ball, Adrian chuckled, "Looks like they're setting up for a tactical free kick, but the deception seems pretty weak."

Taylor laughed in agreement, "If it were James Rodriguez, who's equally brilliant at free kicks, coordinating it, maybe. But Ethan's just not there yet."

The chat was sarcastic, "Hey, what if Ethan actually takes the free kick? Everyone would be fooled then."

"Ha, letting him take it? I'd rather have my grandma play. Such a naive tactic, only CR7 would play along with him."

On the pitch, as the ball soared, Cristiano Ronaldo couldn't help but curse internally.

"Damn, they're all tricksters, James was one, and this seemingly honest American too."

But there was no time to dwell on it,getting into position for a second chance in the box was crucial.

However, sometimes things turn out unexpectedly.

Just as Cristiano reached the edge of the box, he saw the ball curve over Piqué's head and suddenly drop, heading straight for the Barcelona goal.

Even Ter Stegen, one of the world's top goalkeepers, couldn't react in time.

All he could do was watch helplessly as the ball hit the back of the net.

Was that a knuckleball???

Fast, with a wicked curve.

That was everyone's thought, and for a moment, they even believed it was Cristiano who had struck the ball.

The stadium fell silent for a split second, then erupted into a tsunami of cheers from the Real Madrid fans.

"Whistle!!!"

The referee blew his whistle, pointing to the center circle.

The goal stood.

Real Madrid players erupted in cheers, swallowing any curses they had at the ready.

Cristiano was the first to rush to Ethan, enveloping him in a massive bear hug.

Soon, Kroos, Casemiro, and others joined in.

They surrounded him in the center, some patting his head, others hugging him, all congratulating him.

"Didn't know you had that in you, coach should've played you sooner."

"Hey, what's your name?"

Until now, they had never really paid attention to this frequent benchwarmer, and since he hadn't been at Real Madrid long, they hardly remembered or even knew his name.

Ethan smiled shyly, "I'm Ethan Chase."

"Ethan Chase, got it."

"Keep it up, Ethan, let those Barca kids see what Real Madrid's really made of."

...

Back in the studio, Adrian was in disbelief, "Did Ethan really score?"

"The ref pointed to the center circle, it's a goal," Taylor nodded, continuing, "That was a beautiful shot, though probably a fluke. Ethan wasn't known for his free kicks back home."

The chat immediately responded, "Definitely a fluke, that curve, even CR7 himself couldn't do better. With Ethan's usual skills, there's no way he could pull that off normally."

"Even if it was a fluke, he scored, and he made history—the first American to score against Barca. How about that?"

"Whatever, just lucked out on one goal. If he scores another, I'll eat my shoe live."

"Agreed, I'll eat my sock live."

...

On the sidelines, Zidane rubbed his bald head, his face a picture of disbelief.

He had put Ethan on because they were too far behind, with no chance of a comeback. Might as well let the players rest and do a good deed by letting this hardworking American live his dream.

Given Real Madrid's current lineup, it was hard for Ethan to get a chance to play. The president had signed him mainly for his potential market appeal and financial backing in the U.S.

But it seemed the effect was less than ideal, so before the game, Pérez had informed him that Ethan's contract would be terminated after the match.

What no one expected was for Ethan to score.

But just one goal obviously wasn't enough to impress the Real Madrid hierarchy.

After all, the test reports were clear.

As for that spectacular free kick, the higher-ups were more inclined to chalk it up to luck, including Zidane himself.