Race for the Golden Boot

May 4 – Amsterdam Arena: Second Leg of the UEFA Cup Semi-Finals 

The floodlights bathed the pitch in a bright glow as a sense of anticipation rippled through the Amsterdam Arena. The atmosphere was electric, with Ajax fans filling the stands, waving banners, and chanting in unison. This was a pivotal moment in Ajax's European campaign. 

In the sixth minute, Yang Yang received the ball on the right flank. With the ball glued to his feet, he began to weave his body left and right, mesmerizing the Sporting Lisbon left-back. As the defender lunged to intercept, Yang Yang deftly rolled the ball through his legs, executing a perfect nutmeg that drew roars from the crowd. Charisteas, already anticipating the play, surged into the penalty area. Yang Yang followed up with a precise cross that Charisteas met with a towering header, blasting the ball into the net. The stadium erupted as Ajax took an early 1-0 lead. 

Sporting Lisbon, however, were not about to fold easily. Just before halftime, Joao Moutinho spotted a gap in the Ajax defense and delivered a pinpoint long ball over the top. Liédson, timing his run perfectly to beat the offside trap, controlled the ball expertly before dispatching a clinical finish past the helpless goalkeeper. The equalizer stunned the home crowd and brought the game to 1-1. The aggregate score now stood at 4-2 in Ajax's favor, leaving Sporting Lisbon with a mountain to climb—they needed two more goals to force extra time. 

The two sides entered halftime locked in a tactical battle, with the Ajax players returning to the locker room encouraged by their aggregate advantage. Manager Ronald Koeman reminded his players to remain disciplined and exploit the spaces that Sporting would inevitably leave as they pushed forward. 

Ajax began the second half with poise and confidence. In the 55th minute, a patient buildup from the back demonstrated their composure under pressure. Johnny Heitinga played a crisp pass to Vermaelen, who moved the ball swiftly to De Jong in midfield. De Jong, scanning the pitch, found Wesley Sneijder in space. Sneijder evaded a Sporting defender with a slick croqueta before threading a diagonal ball behind the Sporting defense, targeting Yang Yang's well-timed run. 

Yang Yang burst into the penalty area, his movement perfectly timed to meet the pass. Without hesitation, he struck the ball on the volley with his weaker left foot. The shot was powerful and precise, rocketing past the goalkeeper and into the back of the net. The Amsterdam Arena roared as the scoreboard shifted to 2-1 in favor of Ajax. 

Recognizing the importance of the upcoming league fixture, Koeman made substitutions in the 64th minute. Yang Yang, who had played an outstanding game, was replaced by Tom De Mul to conserve his energy for the weekend. Charisteas, who had worked tirelessly in attack, was also brought off, with young Nicklas Bendtner stepping onto the pitch. 

Sporting Lisbon, desperate to keep their European dream alive, responded with attacking substitutions, seeking to pile pressure on Ajax. However, their hopes were dashed just three minutes later. Bendtner capitalized on a defensive lapse, finding himself in space to unleash a well-placed shot that beat the Sporting goalkeeper and extended Ajax's lead to 3-1. The goal effectively ended the contest, leaving Sporting deflated. 

The match ended 3-1, with Ajax securing a dominant 6-2 victory on aggregate. As the final whistle blew, the Ajax players embraced and celebrated in front of their jubilant fans. The team had made history, reaching the UEFA Cup final for only the second time in the club's illustrious 100-year history. The last time Ajax had achieved this feat was in 1992 when Louis van Gaal's side defeated Torino to lift the trophy. 

This time, their opponent in the final would be CSKA Moscow, the pride of the Russian Premier League. Rumors swirled about the club's connections to Chelsea owner Roman Abramovich, whose company, Sibneft, was a major sponsor. The Russian team had impressed throughout the tournament and would provide a stern test for Ajax. 

The stage was set for the final, scheduled to take place on May 18 at the Estádio José Alvalade in Lisbon, Portugal. However, Ajax's triumph over Sporting Lisbon meant they were unlikely to be warmly received by the Portuguese crowd, who would surely back the Russian team over the Dutch side that had just eliminated their country's representatives. 

... 

... 

May 7 – Amsterdam Arena 

As the referee blew the whistle to signal halftime, the red scoreboard at the Amsterdam Arena displayed a scoreline of 2-0 in favor of Ajax. The home crowd roared with approval, but there was one notable absence from the scoresheet: Yang Yang. 

The game had started brightly for Ajax, with the team imposing their dominance early. In the 34th minute, Maicon surged forward from his right-back position, and after a deft one-two with De Jong, unleashed a precise strike that found the back of the net. Ajax took the lead, much to the delight of the fans. Just three minutes later, Yang Yang, struggling to break free from Waalwijk's relentless marking, delivered a brilliant long diagonal pass. It landed perfectly at Pienaar's feet on the left flank. Pienaar, spotting De Jong's intelligent run into the box, sent a low cross that the midfielder slotted home with ease to double Ajax's advantage. 

Despite Ajax's dominant performance, Yang Yang had yet to find the net. He registered five attempts in the first half, with two on target, but both were denied by Waalwijk's goalkeeper and defense. As he walked off the pitch at halftime, there was a hint of frustration in his expression. The crowd, noticing his struggle, responded with resounding chants of encouragement. His name echoed across the stadium as banners waved in the air, reminding him not to lose heart—goals, they believed, were only a matter of time. 

Yang Yang, moved by the fans' unwavering support, paused at the entrance to the tunnel. He raised his arms high and clapped vigorously, expressing his gratitude. The gesture was met with thunderous applause, a powerful reminder of the connection he shared with Ajax's faithful supporters. 

Waalwijk, much like Vitesse in the previous round, had adopted a clear strategy: neutralize Yang Yang. Their defensive setup was tailored to suffocate his space and deny him opportunities. This approach mirrored the tactics many Eredivisie teams had been employing as the season neared its conclusion. With the race for the league's Golden Boot heating up between Yang Yang and Feyenoord's Dirk Kuyt, every team Ajax faced seemed determined to thwart their star forward. 

Kuyt, despite his prolific season, had also struggled in recent matches, enduring a five-game drought before rediscovering his scoring touch. This was no coincidence—opponents had been equally relentless in trying to stifle him. The battle for the top scorer title had become a psychological and tactical duel as much as a physical one. 

Waalwijk's head coach, Erwin Koeman, younger brother of Ajax's manager Ronald Koeman, had made his intentions clear before the match. For him and his team, this was about professional pride. Stopping Yang Yang wasn't personal—it was a matter of principle, a point of honor as a professional coach and for his players. 

As Yang Yang trudged off at halftime, the tension in the arena was palpable. Though Ajax held a comfortable lead, the fans could sense their star forward's unease. The pressure of chasing Kuyt in the scoring charts was evident. Feyenoord, under the guidance of a more attack-minded approach this season, had become an offensive juggernaut. Their firepower, led by Kuyt, was unmatched, even by league leaders PSV Eindhoven. Kuyt thrived in this system, benefiting from constant service and relentless waves of attack. 

In contrast, Ajax had faced difficulties. After the departures of Zlatan Ibrahimović and Rafael van der Vaart, the team lacked the attacking depth it once boasted. While Maicon and De Jong provided occasional sparks, the offensive burden fell disproportionately on Yang Yang's shoulders. Ronald Koeman, never known for his attacking philosophies, struggled to compensate for the void left by those departures. The club's failure to bring in adequate reinforcements further exacerbated the issue, leaving Yang Yang as Ajax's sole consistent threat up front. 

... 

... 

The second half began with neither team making substitutions, and Ajax resumed their dominance on the pitch. The home side continued to dictate the tempo, moving the ball swiftly and controlling possession, while Waalwijk remained compact and focused on their defensive plan. 

Yang Yang, as expected, was at the heart of Ajax's attempts to break through. His movements were sharp, his intent clear, but Waalwijk had deployed a dedicated marker to shadow him relentlessly. This left him with little room to maneuver, making it difficult for him to receive the ball in threatening areas or exploit his blistering pace—one of his key assets. 

The frustration was evident in his demeanor as he pushed forward, searching for openings that never seemed to materialize. Despite his best efforts, every pass toward him was met with immediate pressure, cutting off his options and neutralizing his influence. 

"Yang Yang needs to remain composed," one commentator remarked, capturing the essence of the challenge. "This is the moment where patience and calm are most crucial. He must resist the urge to force things and instead focus on waiting for the right opportunity to strike." 

... 

A dozen minutes into the second half, the score remained 2-0, unchanged from the first half. Both sides seemed locked in a tactical stalemate, with Ajax still holding control but unable to break Waalwijk's defense further. 

"In previous matches, Ronald Koeman would usually substitute Yang Yang around this time," a commentator noted, his tone analytical. "At only 18 years old, the coaching staff is understandably cautious, not wanting to overload him with responsibilities across multiple competitions." 

"But tonight," his co-commentator chimed in, "Ronald Koeman has made it clear that Yang Yang will play the full 90 minutes. Ajax are fully backing him, and they want to give him every chance to score." 

"It's not just about Yang Yang versus Kuyt anymore," the first commentator added. "This has become a statement between Ajax and Feyenoord. Two giants of Dutch football, each represented by their star forwards." 

The tension in the stadium was palpable as the fans, fully aware of the stakes, cheered Yang Yang's every move. His name reverberated around the arena, a constant reminder of the expectations resting on his young shoulders. 

... 

Ajax launched another attack on the left, orchestrated with precision and intent. Maxwell, the Brazilian left-back, carried the ball forward with determination, advancing swiftly down the flank toward the edge of Waalwijk's defensive third. 

Spotting the movement ahead, Pienaar made a sharp run into the middle, raising his hand to signal for the ball. Maxwell responded instantly, threading a diagonal pass toward the South African international near the edge of the penalty area. The pass was perfectly weighted, allowing Pienaar to meet it in stride. 

As Pienaar received the ball, Yang Yang shifted his positioning. Sprinting from the right side of the pitch toward the left, he trailed along the edge of the penalty area, appearing to position himself for a potential pass. The Waalwijk defenders, seeing his movement, began to panic. Their focus split between Pienaar and the onrushing Yang Yang, leaving their defensive shape momentarily disorganized. 

But Pienaar, instead of continuing his forward drive, surprised everyone by turning sharply and passing the ball backward to Maxwell, who had followed up his earlier pass. Maxwell, now near the touchline, wasted no time and whipped in a low, driven cross along the ground. The ball skimmed rapidly across the penalty area, bypassing defenders and the goalkeeper, finding its way to the far post. 

Yang Yang, who had anticipated the sequence perfectly, timed his run with precision. As Maxwell sent the ball into the danger zone, Yang Yang, stationed just outside the penalty arc moments earlier, exploded into action. He accelerated past his marker, darting into the right corner of the six-yard box to meet the pass. The goalkeeper had already committed to his left, leaving the far side of the goal wide open. 

The ball arrived at Yang Yang's feet with perfect timing. In a split second, his countless hours of shooting drills came to fruition. His mind visualized the entire process—his approach, the angle, the power, the placement. He adjusted his stride, kept his foot low to ensure control, and struck the ball cleanly. 

"Boom!" 

The ball rocketed into the bottom-right corner, skimming the inside of the post before nestling in the back of the net. The Amsterdam Arena erupted into pandemonium. 

"GOOOOOOOOOOOAL!!!" the commentator's voice boomed over the speakers. 

"YANG YANG!!! YANG YANG!!! HE FINALLY SCORED!!!!!" 

The crowd was on its feet, fans screaming and waving banners as the stadium reverberated with chants of Yang Yang's name. The young forward had done it. His persistence and effort had paid off in the most spectacular fashion. 

Yang Yang, unable to stop his momentum, stumbled off the pitch and nearly collided with the goalpost. He leaned against the advertising boards, breathing heavily, overcome with emotion. For a moment, he felt tears welling up as the significance of the goal sank in. 

It was his 26th goal of the season, a personal milestone and a testament to his relentless dedication. More importantly, it reignited his belief in himself. For weeks, he had been battling against tight marking and relentless defensive pressure. But this goal felt like breaking through a barrier, a mental and physical breakthrough that filled him with newfound confidence. 

For the first time, Yang Yang truly believed that no matter how tightly he was marked, no matter how many defenders stood in his way, he could score. The feeling was intoxicating, almost overwhelming. And he wanted more. 

With only two rounds left in the season, the Golden Boot race remained tight. Kuyt held a three-goal lead coming into this match, but with this strike, Yang Yang had begun to close the gap. The uncertainty of Feyenoord's later kickoff left him guessing—would Kuyt score? How many? 

Yang Yang couldn't control Kuyt's performance, but he could control his own. His resolve hardened. He had to keep pushing, keep fighting. There was no time to hesitate. The Golden Boot was still within reach, and he was determined to seize it. 

... 

... 

After returning to the pitch, Yang Yang exchanged high-fives with his teammates in celebration before jogging back into position for the restart. Despite the joy of his goal, his focus remained sharp, his eyes scanning the field for another opportunity to strike. 

When the game resumed, Ajax maintained their aggressive approach. The midfield and backline continued to orchestrate attacks, pushing forward with fluid passing and clever movement. Even though Waalwijk trailed by three goals, they fought to maintain their defensive structure, resisting Ajax's relentless pressure as best they could. 

The clock ticked toward full-time, but Yang Yang's determination remained undimmed. In the 89th minute, another chance came his way. Waalwijk's defenders, visibly fatigued, faltered in their concentration. Sneijder capitalized on the moment, threading a perfectly timed through ball behind the defense. Yang Yang, reading the play instinctively, angled his run into the penalty area, collected the ball cleanly, and prepared to finish. 

He aimed for the far corner, striking the ball with precision and power. As the ball arced toward the goal, Yang Yang was already envisioning his celebration. But to his shock, Waalwijk's goalkeeper launched himself through the air, stretching to his limit. The keeper's fingertips grazed the ball, altering its trajectory slightly, but not enough to stop it. The ball kissed the inside of the post and ricocheted into the net. 

The stadium exploded in celebration. 

"GOOOOOOOOOOOAL!!!!!!" the commentator roared. 

"YANG YANG!!! HE SCORES AGAIN!!!" 

"This reduces the gap to Kuyt—just one goal separates them now!" 

"Absolutely fabulous from Yang Yang!" 

"It's 4-0 for Ajax!!!" 

The fans erupted into cheers, their voices shaking the arena. Yang Yang pumped his fists in triumph as his teammates rushed to embrace him. This was his 27th goal of the season, a testament to his unyielding drive and ability to seize critical moments. 

The scoreboard reflected Ajax's dominance, but for Yang Yang, the significance of the goal went far beyond the match. The race for the Golden Boot was now closer than ever. Kuyt's lead had been reduced to a single goal, and with two games left in the season, everything was still to play for. 

... 

... 

Utrecht, Stadion Galgenwaard. 

When referee Dick Jol blew the final whistle, Dirk Kuyt stood motionless in the center of the pitch, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with exhaustion. The Feyenoord striker tilted his head back, closing his eyes as he soaked in the aftermath of an intense and hard-fought match. 

This was no ordinary game. Utrecht, sitting mid-table at tenth in the Eredivisie, had no real stakes in the standings. Feyenoord, meanwhile, were no longer in contention for the league title, having been left behind by PSV Eindhoven, Ajax, and AZ Alkmaar. However, this match held a different significance—it was about Kuyt's pursuit of the Golden Boot, and the entire Dutch media was fixated on the race between him and Ajax's Yang Yang. Utrecht's players, sensing the importance of the occasion, approached the game with extra determination. 

Feyenoord started the match brightly, pressing high and looking to break the deadlock early. In the tenth minute, Kuyt showcased his creativity, threading a precise assist to Romeo Castelen, who calmly slotted the ball into the net to make it 1-0. The early goal seemed to signal a comfortable afternoon for the visitors, but Utrecht quickly dispelled that notion. 

Utrecht's coach, Foeke Booy, adjusted his tactics expertly. He urged his players to push higher up the pitch, disrupting Feyenoord's rhythm and creating moments of discomfort for the visitors. Utrecht's defense grew increasingly organized, and their counter-attacks tested Feyenoord's backline, turning the game into a battle of attrition. 

By halftime, Feyenoord still held their slim lead, but it was clear that Utrecht were not going down without a fight. Returning to the pitch for the second half, Feyenoord struggled to impose themselves as their opponents grew in confidence. Kuyt, known for his tireless work ethic, pressed relentlessly, linking up play and making himself available at every opportunity. However, without Salomon Kalou, who began the match on the bench, Kuyt often found himself isolated, forced to create his own chances. 

The breakthrough finally came in the 67th minute. Kuyt timed his run perfectly, slipping behind Utrecht's defense to receive a precise through ball. With composure, he took a touch and unleashed a powerful strike, beating the goalkeeper to double Feyenoord's lead. The goal marked Kuyt's 29th of the season, strengthening his position at the top of the scoring charts. 

Despite their two-goal advantage, Feyenoord didn't let up. Kalou was introduced as a substitute shortly after, injecting pace and creativity into their attack. His presence created a series of chances for Kuyt, but luck wasn't on his side—shot after shot failed to find the back of the net. 

As the final whistle sounded, Feyenoord secured a 2-0 victory over a resilient Utrecht side. While the win did little to alter Feyenoord's standing in the league, Kuyt's performance underscored his determination to claim the Golden Boot. With Yang Yang closing the gap and only two games left in the season, the race for the league's top scorer was reaching its thrilling climax. 

... 

... 

"Well done!" 

Salomon Kalou walked over and grabbed Kuyt's shoulder with a grin. His energy and camaraderie were evident, even though he had spent most of the match on the bench. 

Kalou had been nursing a slight injury before the game, which affected his training performance. Feyenoord coach Ruud Gullit had opted not to start him, instead bringing him on as a substitute in the second half to preserve his fitness. 

Kuyt responded in kind, giving Kalou a hearty pat on the shoulder. "Thank you!" he said sincerely. 

This season, Kuyt's prolific scoring record had been bolstered in no small part by Kalou's contributions. As Feyenoord's primary playmaker, Kalou had delivered numerous assists to Kuyt, creating chances that translated into goals. Their partnership had been a driving force behind the team's offense, and Kuyt knew it. Especially during the stretches when goals had dried up, Kalou's unwavering support and ability to "feed" him the ball had been invaluable. 

"Utrecht went all out today," Kalou said with a chuckle, shaking his head. "Five defenders, and if that wasn't enough, three midfielders just sitting back to delay play. Honestly, I was starting to wonder if they were doing it to help Yang Yang!" 

Kuyt couldn't help but laugh, though he dismissed the suggestion with a wave of his hand. "No, no, it's not like that," he said, shaking his head. He understood that Utrecht's approach was less about helping Yang Yang and more about their pride and determination to prove themselves. 

"Yang Yang doesn't have that kind of pull, and Utrecht's coach, Foeke Booy, isn't the type to play for anyone but his own team." Kuyt paused, thoughtful. "This game was more about showing their competitiveness. For Feyenoord, this match didn't carry much weight—we're already out of the running for the Champions League spots. Fourth place and a UEFA Cup berth are locked in. The result itself didn't matter much, but for me, it was about finding the net." 

Kalou nodded in agreement but kept his smile. "Well, one thing's for sure—Yang Yang scored twice earlier today, but with your goal, you're still ahead by two. If things keep going like this, that Golden Boot is yours!" 

Kuyt smiled modestly, though there was a hint of satisfaction on his face. "It's too early to say, too early," he replied, trying to downplay the significance, though the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed his confidence. 

With only two rounds left in the season, Kuyt held a two-goal lead over Yang Yang in the race for the league's top scorer. On paper, his position seemed secure. Even if Yang Yang managed a remarkable surge, scoring four goals in the remaining matches while Kuyt failed to add to his tally, it would still take an extraordinary effort to overtake him. 

But could that happen? Kuyt wasn't entirely sure. 

Yang Yang's consistency this season had been remarkable. His stability and ability to capitalize on chances had made him Ajax's most reliable player. While Wesley Sonck had underperformed and disappointed fans, Yang Yang had burst onto the scene, defying expectations. His composure in front of goal and knack for delivering when it mattered had earned him 27 goals and an impressive 17 assists in the league. Together, these contributions accounted for over half of Ajax's total goals this season—a stunning statistic for any player, let alone an 18-year-old. 

However, Kuyt had his own edge. His scoring came in bursts, with three hat tricks and three braces this season—a record that Yang Yang couldn't match. Yang Yang had scored consistently, often netting single goals or providing assists, but multi-goal performances were a rarity for him. 

The one point Kuyt couldn't overlook, though, was his occasional goal drought. Kuyt had gone through three noticeable stretches this season where he failed to score, while Yang Yang had managed to avoid such dry spells. Additionally, Yang Yang had missed the opening four rounds of the league, making Kuyt's two-goal lead feel tenuous at best. Despite playing fewer matches, Yang Yang had kept the race tighter than anyone had anticipated. 

... 

... 

As Kuyt stepped off the pitch, he was met with handshakes, pats on the back, and words of congratulations from his teammates. With just two rounds left in the league and a two-goal lead over Yang Yang, it seemed as though Kuyt had all but secured the Golden Boot. The mood in the Feyenoord camp was celebratory, with many already treating Kuyt as the Eredivisie's top scorer. 

On the sidelines, Ruud Gullit, Feyenoord's coach, approached him with an enthusiastic grin, pulling Kuyt into a firm embrace. Gullit's excitement was palpable. 

"Fantastic goal tonight!" Gullit said, still holding onto Kuyt. "If you keep playing like this in the last two games, even if Yang Yang scores, there's no way he's catching up to you!" 

It was clear that Gullit had immense pride in Kuyt. As a rookie coach, having previously managed only the Dutch youth teams, Gullit had faced criticism for Feyenoord's inconsistency this season. The team's performances lacked stability, and crucial points were dropped throughout the campaign. Consequently, Feyenoord had fallen out of contention for the Eredivisie title, finishing behind PSV Eindhoven, Ajax, and AZ Alkmaar. Fourth place and a UEFA Cup spot were the best they could manage. 

However, Feyenoord's attacking style had earned widespread admiration. Gullit's brand of football was the most attractive in the league, and Kuyt had thrived under his system. The prolific forward was undoubtedly Gullit's crowning achievement this season, and the coach was unapologetically proud of it. 

"Honestly," Gullit continued, laughing, "Yang Yang would need four goals in the last two games to catch up. Even if you stopped at 29, I can't see that happening. But knowing you, you'll probably add a few more anyway!" 

Kuyt chuckled in response but didn't say much. Gullit's confidence was infectious, and Kuyt couldn't help but feel the weight of the top scorer award slipping off his shoulders. 

Standing nearby, Salomon Kalou chimed in with his usual mischief. "That goal tonight? I bet it made Yang Yang give up right then and there!" Kalou laughed. He had always harbored a competitive rivalry with Yang Yang, partly due to their similar ages and the media's constant comparisons. 

Kalou gave Kuyt a friendly slap on the back. "Just relax now," he said with a wide grin. "Wait for your trophy—you've earned it!" 

Kuyt couldn't help but laugh along with his teammates. Their confidence rubbed off on him, and the tension that had gripped him all season began to ease. 

Too tired. That was Kuyt's honest thought. He had carried the team's attacking burden for the entire campaign, playing all 34 league games—most of them full 90-minute matches. The drive to stay ahead in the scoring race had pushed him to his limits, especially in the second half of the season when every goal felt like a necessity. 

Now, standing among his teammates with two games to go, Kuyt finally allowed himself to breathe. For the first time, it felt like the Golden Boot was his. 

He had dreamed of this moment for three years—working tirelessly to improve, enduring setbacks, and refining his craft. Now, he was on the brink of achieving one of his biggest personal goals. The thought made him smile, a quiet moment of satisfaction amidst the noise around him. 

Kalou and the other teammates noticed his smile and erupted into playful cheers, urging him to celebrate properly. They teased him about treating them to a night out, shouting for him to "do something big" to commemorate the achievement. 

For Feyenoord, Kuyt's likely Golden Boot win was the highlight of an otherwise underwhelming season. It was something for the team and its fans to celebrate—a bright spot in a year of what-ifs and missed opportunities. Kuyt's relentless effort and consistency had been a source of pride, and now, the rewards were finally within reach. 

... 

... 

When the match in Utrecht concluded, Feyenoord's players celebrated Dirk Kuyt's presumed victory in the race for the Golden Boot. Meanwhile, in the quiet living room of Yang Yang's house in the small town of Ouderkerk, about 30 kilometers north of Amsterdam, Yang Yang sat in silence, watching the celebrations unfold on the TV screen. 

The broadcast shifted to a leaderboard highlighting the Eredivisie's top scorers for the season. Kuyt sat at the top with 29 goals, followed closely by Yang Yang with 27. Feyenoord's Salomon Kalou rounded out the list in third. The commentator's voice cut through the room, confidently suggesting that Yang Yang's chances of overtaking Kuyt were merely theoretical with only two rounds remaining. 

The words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable. Around Yang Yang sat his Ajax teammates—Maxwell, Vermaelen, Maicon, Bendtner, and a few others—sharing the weight of his disappointment. The atmosphere in the room was thick with unspoken emotions, and none of them could muster the right words to console him. 

What could they say? "It doesn't matter if you don't win"? That would sound hollow. Yang Yang had poured his heart and soul into this season, striving for the recognition he now stood on the verge of losing. But comforting him too earnestly might only deepen his sense of defeat. 

After a long silence, Maxwell finally broke the tension. "Yang Yang…" he began, his voice soft and cautious. 

But before he could continue, Yang Yang stood up, forcing a strained smile that barely reached his eyes. "It's okay," he said, his voice steady but void of conviction. "Everyone should head back and get some rest. We've got training tomorrow, and I'm going to bed." 

The room fell silent again as Yang Yang turned and headed upstairs. His teammates exchanged glances but said nothing. They respected his space, sensing that words wouldn't reach him right now. 

Once in his room, Yang Yang locked the door behind him and collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the poster pinned to the ceiling. It was of his favorite player, a source of inspiration, but tonight it only seemed to deepen his frustration. His chest tightened, not with anger or resentment, but with a gnawing sense of unwillingness. 

Why had everyone already written him off? 

Two games. Two goals. The challenge was immense, but not impossible. Yet it felt like the world had already declared Kuyt the winner, leaving Yang Yang alone to wrestle with his doubts. 

A soft chime from his phone pulled him from his thoughts. Picking it up, he saw a message on QQ from Su Ye: 

"Don't give up, you can do it!" 

His chest tightened again, but this time for a different reason. His eyes watered as he stared at the screen, and though he fought it, a tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. She must have stayed up late just to follow the results, he thought. He didn't need to ask why—he already knew. 

His fingers hovered over his phone, and after a brief pause, he dialed her number. When Su Ye picked up, her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "Did I bother you? Sorry, I stayed up late reading, and I glanced at the match. I just wanted to cheer you up—I knew you'd be upset." 

Her words carried a warmth that Yang Yang couldn't resist. "Thank you for your encouragement," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. 

Su Ye giggled lightly, her tone playful yet sincere. "That's good. If you like it, I'll encourage you like this every day from now on." 

For a moment, Yang Yang remained silent, gathering his thoughts. Finally, he asked, "Do you believe in me?" 

"Of course, I believe in you," Su Ye replied without hesitation, her voice firm despite its softness. 

"Do you believe I can catch up to Kuyt?" he pressed. 

"I do. Even if no one else in the world believes in you, I do." 

The tears that had threatened to fall finally flowed freely, soaking into the pillow beneath him. Yang Yang didn't bother wiping them away. Her words cut through the noise of doubt and despair, filling him with a quiet but unshakable resolve. 

"I promise," Yang Yang said, his voice trembling but full of determination, "I won't let you down." 

As he hung up, his mind was clear. The odds were steep, and the pressure was immense, but in that moment, Yang Yang decided he would fight for every opportunity. Two games, two goals—or more. He wasn't done yet.