AFC World Cup Qualifiers II

The relentless rhythm of two drumbeats followed by a unified roar continued to pour from the stands. Iranian fans had maintained this pressure since both teams entered the field, creating a steady drumbeat of intimidation aimed at the Chinese players. 

Under the weight of the Iranian assault, the Chinese team had fully retreated into their own half, often sinking into their 30-meter zone in a concerted effort to defend. Positioned alone in the front, Yang Yang hovered just past the center line, carefully pacing himself. His primary role was to harass Iran's central defenders and maintain a presence up front, but his opportunities were scarce with the midfield and back line so heavily pressed. 

Yet, as the lone forward, Yang Yang knew he couldn't afford to drop too deep into the defense. There were two crucial reasons for this: 

First, a sudden opportunity to counterattack could arise at any moment. If he retreated too far, he might be out of position to capitalize, wasting the hard-fought efforts of his teammates to spring a quick break. 

Second, his presence alone near the center line served as a check on Iran's defenders. If he fell back, Iran's defense would push further forward, tightening their control of the Chinese half. With Iran's skilled playmakers like Karimi and Zandi orchestrating attacks, allowing them a foothold within the 30-meter zone would mean exposing the Chinese team to constant, dangerous shots on goal. 

Thus, despite Iran's growing pressure, Yang Yang stayed resolute, holding his ground around the center line. He knew that as long as he remained a threat on the counter, Iran's defense couldn't afford to completely ignore him. One well-placed ball behind their line could allow Yang Yang to break free and create a lethal scoring chance. 

In this role, Yang Yang's tactical value was clear: he was a lone anchor, keeping Iran's defensive line in check, ready to strike should the Chinese team manage to clear the ball forward. 

The burden of holding back Iran's attack fell squarely on his teammates, who fought relentlessly in the back and midfield. For Yang Yang, the task was to remain vigilant and ready, his focus unwavering amid the roar of 100,000 fans who seemed determined to shake their resolve. 

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... 

Since taking charge of the Chinese national team, Arie Haan's primary focus had been to solidify the defense. He began by tightening the backline, then shored up the midfield, and finally worked to improve the attack. With Yang Yang's emergence, the team's offensive capability had strengthened significantly. However, a serious injury to key midfielder Li Tie disrupted these plans, leading Haan to deploy three defensive midfielders for this match: Xiao Zhanbo, Zhao Junzhe, and Hu Zhaojun. Shao Jiayi covered the left flank, with Xu Yunlong on the right. 

This lineup made Haan's intentions clear—his strategy was primarily defensive. 

From the kickoff, the Chinese players were visibly affected by the atmosphere, their nerves heightened by the unrelenting roar of Iranian fans. It was a familiar issue, as the team had often struggled to settle into matches. But Haan's instructions were clear, and as the game progressed, the players found their footing and unified around a single purpose: defend at all costs. 

Iranian playmaker Ali Karimi, recently named AFC Player of the Year, was particularly motivated. Before the match, he had openly expressed his desire for payback following the Asian Cup loss, promising to dominate on home soil. Iranian media also reported that Karimi saw this match as a chance to prove his title's worth, especially against Yang Yang, who many felt should have been a contender for the award. 

Due to AFC's selection criteria, only players active in Asian leagues were eligible for Player of the Year. This excluded Yang Yang, along with South Korea's Lee Young-Pyo, Park Ji-sung, and Japan's Shinji Ono, sparking criticism over the award's credibility. Karimi's determination to outperform Yang Yang was fueled by these criticisms, and he was determined to validate his achievement. 

From the opening whistle, Karimi was relentless, weaving his way through the midfield and frequently threatening the Chinese penalty area. Yet, Li Weifeng and Zheng Zhi—back from injury and suspension, respectively—organized the defense effectively, responding to each of Karimi's advances with well-timed challenges and clearances. Iran's initial surge was intense, but the Chinese defense held firm, and their cohesion in the backline gradually dulled the Iranian attack. 

As the game wore on, Iran's offense, despite boasting top talents like Karimi, Ali Daei, Zandi, Mahdavikia, and Hashemian, began to reveal cracks. While their attacks were forceful, they often lacked the coordination needed to break down the defense, resulting in few clear chances. 

Though the Chinese team was at a disadvantage in terms of individual skill, they compensated with a tenacious, disciplined style of play. The players shared a unified mentality: hold the line, protect the goal. 

This resolve had been cultivated through recent successes, including the Asian Cup and earlier World Cup qualifiers. The team believed that as long as Yang Yang was on the field, they had a fighting chance. 

For the players, keeping the hope of victory alive made all the difference. In football, sometimes the most formidable strength wasn't skill but the collective spirit of a team that refused to give up. It was this very hope that had brought them this far and the same hope that could carry them through the toughest of challenges. 

This, after all, was the essence of football. 

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... 

February 9 – The first day of the Lunar New Year 

This year's Spring Festival felt different across China. Countless fans sat anxiously at home, glued to their televisions, watching a game that had captured the nation's attention: China's opening match in the final round of AFC World Cup qualifiers. As reigning Asian Cup champions, China faced a daunting challenge—their first game was an away fixture against Iran, widely regarded as Asia's strongest team. 

While Chinese football often received criticism, tonight, the collective sentiment was one of hope. The nation's loyal fans, whether supporters or skeptics, silently wished for a New Year's miracle—a victory from the Chinese team in Tehran, a special Spring Festival gift. 

Chinese football had its issues, true, but it was their football. For all its flaws, it belonged to China, and there wasn't a single fan who didn't wish for a surprise tonight. Especially with Yang Yang on the pitch. 

As the game kicked off, Iran unleashed a relentless wave of attacks. The Iranian team surged forward, putting the Chinese defense under immense pressure. Even through the television, fans could feel the hostile energy emanating from Azadi Stadium, Iran's infamous "devil's home." The sound of 100,000 roaring fans reverberated with a chilling intensity that could be felt thousands of miles away. 

The difference in strength was undeniable. 

But as they watched, Chinese fans could see that the players on the field were fighting with everything they had. Every player was chasing down balls, making tackles, and pushing their limits. 

The national TV commentator suggested that Yang Yang should drop back into the midfield to help with the build-up, noting his past performance in the Toulon Cup. But commentator Zhang Guiding disagreed, seeing Yang Yang's positioning in the front as crucial. 

"Yang Yang is most valuable staying forward. If he retreats, Iran will push forward with even greater intensity. It'll leave us even more exposed." 

"We haven't seen a player with Yang Yang's individual brilliance in Chinese football for years," Zhang continued. "Right now, he's keeping the entire Iranian defense line in check. This type of player is incredibly rare for China; he's the kind of talent that can hold back an opponent's whole defense just by being there." 

"Football is a team game," he added. "Yang Yang can only do so much on his own. For him to be effective, his teammates need to hold their ground and find ways to connect with him." 

Zhang then reminded viewers of Arie Haan's remarks before the game: Without Yang Yang, China lacks the impact to compete on the World Cup stage. With him, we have that potential. But it takes all eleven players working as one. 

"Placing such a weighty expectation on an 18-year-old might seem unfair, but Yang Yang truly embodies the hope of this national team." 

When the whistle blew for halftime, the score remained 0-0. Despite Iran's relentless pressure and numerous chances, they had been unable to find the net. China, however, had managed only a single shot in the first half, a reflection of just how tightly Iran had dominated the game. 

For some, the Asian Cup victory had created an optimistic illusion. But now, playing against heavyweights like Kuwait and Iran in the qualifiers was a stark reminder of reality. The Chinese team was resilient but outmatched, and the gap in strength was clear. 

If China's journey was to continue, they would have to confront the truth about where they stood and continue to build from there. Only by facing reality could they find a way forward, potentially making strides to compete on a global stage. For tonight, though, they had held Iran at bay, and that in itself was a victory worth celebrating. 

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Yang Yang walked into the locker room, struggling to catch his breath. Around him, his teammates looked drained, the weight of the match etched on their faces. 

The obstacles were immense—long travel, harsh climate differences, the relentless pressure of Azadi Stadium, and Iran's formidable strength. Tonight, they faced the best Iran had to offer, and the pressure was taking a toll. Yang Yang could feel it, the quiet ebb of confidence slipping away from his teammates, inch by inch. 

For the entire first half, they'd been on the back foot, barely able to move past the halfway line, pinned down by Iran's relentless offense. Yang Yang hadn't managed a single shot. The frustration was like a vise around his heart—this sense of helplessness, like being a child in a fight against a giant, was something few outsiders could truly grasp. 

When Arie Haan entered the locker room, his face was grave but determined. 

"You're doing a fantastic job out there," he said, his voice firm. "We defended well in the first half. We didn't give Iran a single clear chance. Believe me, they'll grow more frustrated, and that's our opportunity. What we need most now is patience and persistence." 

"If they get desperate, they'll make mistakes, and those mistakes will be our chances!" 

Haan's words were encouraging, but the exhaustion and tension in the room were palpable. The players were barely responding, their spirits dulled by the intense pressure they'd faced. The coaching staff exchanged anxious glances; they understood the players' exhaustion, but knew they needed a spark to rekindle their will to fight. 

Yang Yang suddenly raised his head and looked around at his teammates. 

"Do you trust me?" His voice cut through the silence, catching everyone's attention. Even Haan and De Jong looked at him, surprised. 

"If you believe in me, give me a chance," he said, his voice low but resolute. "In the second half, if you can get the ball to the front, pass it to me. It doesn't matter how—high, low, left, or right. Just get it to me. If I can receive it, I can score." 

He was almost gritting his teeth as he spoke, the determination clear in his eyes. Yang Yang was usually calm and measured, but desperation was evident in his tone. This wasn't about bravado. It was about igniting hope. Right now, what the team needed most was a spark, something to reignite their fight. 

Football is a game of eleven. Yang Yang knew that, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't do it alone. Nor could Zheng Zhi, Zhao Junzhe, or Shao Jiayi. They needed to fight as one. 

Yang Yang's words hung in the air, and his teammates felt the energy shift, stirred by his bold promise. 

"If there's a chance, who doesn't want to win?" he pressed, his gaze unwavering. "Who wants to go back home defeated? Who wants to keep hearing the criticism?" 

Zheng Zhi was the first to stand. "I trust you," he said firmly. 

"I do too," echoed Zhao Junzhe, rising from his seat. 

Shao Jiayi stood next, nodding. "Count me in." 

One by one, his teammates rose. 

"I'm with you!" 

"Me too!" 

"Let's do this!" 

By the end, every player in the room was on their feet, eyes locked on Yang Yang, their spirits revived by his words. 

Yang Yang's eyes glistened with emotion as he held back a surge of gratitude. Clenching his fists, he met their gaze, his voice steady but fierce. 

"Then I'll be waiting for your pass," he said, determined. 

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... 

As the second half resumed, Iran intensified their offensive, pressing forward with relentless attacks. The Chinese team remained firmly planted in their own half, ceding control of the field while focusing on a tight, organized defense. They allowed Iran to orchestrate plays around the penalty area but maintained a solid barrier, blocking any clear path to goal. 

Up front, Yang Yang continued his disciplined movements along the center line, constantly shifting and pressuring Iran's defenders. His presence kept the Iranian backline on edge, preventing them from fully advancing and committing all their efforts to the attack. 

But as the minutes ticked by without a breakthrough, frustration began to mount for Iran. At Azadi Stadium, where the Iranian team boasted an intimidating record of nearly unbeaten decades, their confidence had always been a powerful weapon. Yet tonight, their inability to penetrate China's defense turned that advantage into growing anxiety. 

The Chinese team's play was conservative, barely managing to cross into the offensive third. Any clearance past the halfway line was quickly swept back, leaving Yang Yang with little to work with. Still, he remained calm, gesturing reassuringly to his teammates and offering words of encouragement. He knew that for China, even a 0-0 draw here would be a respectable outcome. But Iran needed the full three points, and the pressure to secure a home victory was increasingly weighing on their players. 

As the second half wore on, Yang Yang began noticing key shifts in Iran's tactics. Both of Iran's full-backs, traditionally cautious, were now pressing higher, their eagerness evident. Iran's typical strategy was to launch attacks primarily from the right side, keeping their left flank defensively solid—a tactic they had employed throughout the Asian Cup and now again in this game. But with their frustration growing, even the left-back was now pushing up aggressively. 

Arie Haan paced the sidelines, calling for patience and urging his players to stay disciplined. Seeing this opportunity, Yang Yang jogged back to the midfield during a break in play to share a quick instruction. 

"If you spot a chance, switch it to the wings on the counter," he told Zhao Junzhe and Shao Jiayi. "I'll be there to support." 

With a nod of understanding, they absorbed the message. If a counterattack opportunity emerged, they'd exploit Iran's exposed flanks. 

Yang Yang's calm leadership and tactical awareness had a steadying effect on his teammates. They could sense that Iran's impatience was giving them an edge, and as they returned to their positions, they did so with renewed focus, ready to capitalize on any opening the opponent's desperation might create. 

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As the game entered the 60th minute, neither head coach showed any intention of making substitutions. Iran continued their relentless push, dominating possession in China's half and probing for a breakthrough, while the Chinese team held their defensive line firmly in front of the penalty area. 

Yang Yang remained near the center line, moving laterally in a calculated manner. Each time the ball shifted, he subtly adjusted his position. When play moved to China's left, Yang Yang edged closer to Iran's right center-back. When it swung to the right, he positioned himself closer to the left center-back. His movement was subtle yet deliberate, avoiding any predictable pattern. The Iranian defenders hadn't picked up on his intent, but his teammates understood—Yang Yang was waiting, poised for a pass that could turn defense into a counterattack. 

For the Chinese players, Yang Yang's presence up front represented their glimmer of hope. His patience and unwavering focus motivated his teammates, giving them a reason to push through the exhaustion and maintain their defensive resolve. 

Though the defensive nature of the game was far from what Yang Yang was used to at Ajax, he understood the need for discipline. In Europe, even against powerhouses like Real Madrid or Juventus, his teammates could still create chances for the front line. But tonight, against a well-prepared and aggressive Iranian side on their own turf, opportunities were few and far between. 

Despite the frustration of limited service, Yang Yang didn't hold any resentment toward his teammates. He knew that the disparity in skill and Iran's home advantage were factors beyond their control. What mattered now was staying cohesive and disciplined. 

Arie Haan's emphasis on defensive integration had clearly paid off. Even with the physical toll mounting in the second half, the team's formation held strong. As long as they stayed organized, the Chinese team had a fighting chance, and Yang Yang was ready to seize any momentary lapse in Iran's defense. 

This patience was more than strategy—it was a testament to the resilience of a team willing to endure, waiting for their chance to strike back. 

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As the game entered its 68th minute, Iran once again pushed the ball into China's defensive third, testing the Chinese backline. But, as they had all night, China's defenders held tight, forcing Iran to recycle possession back to the center line. 

When Iran's left center-back received the ball, he spotted Yang Yang closing in and quickly passed it across to his defensive partner. Yang Yang immediately adjusted, angling his run to pressure the right center-back, who then looked to switch play with a diagonal pass back to the left flank—a move that had consistently been Iran's strong side throughout the game. 

Yang Yang pivoted and tracked back toward the left wing, his eyes scanning the field as he noticed Shao Jiayi and Sun Xiang coordinating their defense. As Iran attempted to build down China's left side again, Zheng Zhi suddenly charged out of the penalty area, intercepting the pass with a fierce challenge. 

At that instant, the game shifted. Yang Yang's instinct kicked in. He checked his position, made sure he wasn't offside, and then watched as Zheng Zhi, using all his strength, launched a booming long pass over the halfline. 

Yang Yang exploded forward, sprinting like a predator locked onto its prey. His timing was perfect; the ball landed just outside the penalty area, and with Iran's goalkeeper hesitating to come out, Yang Yang chased it down and took control on the left edge of the box. 

Behind him, the two Iranian center-backs scrambled back, one rushing to cut off his angle on the left, while the other prepared to block from behind. 

Yang Yang didn't hesitate. He drove straight toward the first defender, who had barely gotten into position and was clearly wary of making a risky challenge in the box. Sensing his hesitation, Yang Yang dipped his left shoulder as if to drive down the line, forcing the defender to commit and create space inside. 

Then, in a fluid motion, he pulled the ball back, performing a smooth step-over that left the defender wrong-footed. With that single move, Yang Yang slipped past him, edging closer to the goal. 

The stadium let out a collective gasp as Yang Yang's footwork cut through Iran's defense. 

He kept his momentum, eyes on the second defender now charging across. Lifting his right foot, he feigned a shot, drawing the defender into a panicked slide, only to sidestep into the center. With space cleared, he unleashed a powerful, curling shot. 

The ball rocketed off his right foot, tracing a perfect arc across the goal. It brushed the inside corner, skimming past the fingertips of the diving goalkeeper, and slammed into the top corner of the net. 

"Goal! Gooooooal!" 

"Yang Yang scores for China!" 

The commentator's voice erupted with disbelief and joy. "In the 68th minute, Yang Yang has broken the deadlock against Iran at Azadi Stadium! What an extraordinary goal!" 

Yang Yang didn't need to look; he knew it was in. Turning on his heel, he sprinted toward the sideline, leaping off the pitch and spreading his arms wide, a look of triumph on his face. The roar of celebration was deafening, and the fans back home, watching with bated breath, erupted into cheers and tears. 

For so many, Azadi Stadium had long been a place of defeat and disappointment. Tonight, Yang Yang had turned that history on its head. 

"This is why he's a star!" the commentator's voice cracked with emotion. "An 18-year-old, carrying the hopes of his team, the hopes of his country. Yang Yang has just given China one of its greatest moments in football history." 

Fans across China were in awe. In a game where they had expected, at best, a draw, Yang Yang had taken the single opportunity the team had been waiting for—and converted it with all the precision and poise of a true star. 

For the Chinese team, for the fans, and for Yang Yang, this goal was a testament to resilience, skill, and unbreakable spirit. 

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The moment Yang Yang's shot hit the back of the net at Azadi Stadium, thousands of miles away in Beijing, Su Wenhong leaped from his sofa, shouting with pure exhilaration. His voice echoed through the room as he pumped his fists, a wide grin breaking across his face. 

Next to him, Su Ye, the "little girl" Yang Yang always called his sister, watched the TV with tear-brimmed eyes. She saw Yang Yang, arms spread wide, racing down the track as his teammates chased after him in celebration. Her heart swelled with pride, unable to hold back a few tears as she witnessed the enormity of his accomplishment. 

Down in Quanzhou, in the warm southern city where Yang Yang grew up, his mother was overcome with emotion, tears streaming down her face. She clutched her hands together, moved beyond words. By her side, Yang Yang's father, Wei Zheng, and Shen Yuzhu all felt a lump in their throats, eyes glistening. They could barely contain their own tears, moved by the sight of Yang Yang's relentless fight and triumph on the field. 

For them, this wasn't just a game. Watching Yang Yang score in such a crucial moment, achieving his dream, filled them with pride that ran deeper than words could express.