Chapter 667 - 6: One Man Is a Golden Generation! The New Song of Ma’el! Flying God Sword Cuts Down Ukraine!

"Ehl.....!"

Amidst the endless resonance of the Warsaw National Stadium, commentators from various countries were also shouting with flushed faces.

"I can hardly believe my eyes! Just as the 3 points were about to turn into 1, the France team turned around and killed the game!!"

In the Sky Sports commentary zone, Henry raised his hands in joy, exclaiming: "In the 79th minute of the match! Ma’el scored his second goal of the European Cup, helping the team lead two to zero!

"Drama! So dramatic! This is bloody football!!

"I also find it hard to imagine why Ma’el, amidst a group of top forwards losing themselves in fierce competition, can still maintain his dominant form in the league?!

"He has scored 9 goals for the national team in just 4 matches! Just 1 goal away from breaking 10!

"Scoring in consecutive matches seems commonplace for him, and even a brace seems like a piece of cake!"

This time, he didn’t forget to taunt Reinke. Just a moment ago, this old friend was mocking him, laughingly saying that the England team would definitely equalize and then secure a last-minute win.

Now look at this!

The situation has dramatically changed!

"Reinke."

Henry turned to look at his partner. Sky Sports had arranged them to sit together to create some tension, so he had no reservations.

After a few deep breaths, he finally chuckled and squeezed out one sentence: "Say something! Aren’t you going to speak up?"

"Bang bang bang.....!!"

The sound of knocking on the table was heard, Reinke lost it, he always added to the show effect, "Are you kidding me?! You must be! Why did Gerrard slip?! Why does he always score like that?

"I can’t accept it, England can lose to France, can lose to Ma’el, but not in this way!"

He placed his hands on his head, fingers furiously messing up his hair, truly frantic.

Heaven and hell in a moment!

Henry laughed triumphantly, turning his head to look at the field, seeing England players standing dumbfounded, with Gerrard collapsed on the ground covering his face, unwilling to accept it all.

In contrast, the joy of the France team players seemed even more fervent, everyone raising their hands and leaping in place, then rushing towards Ma’el from multiple directions.

Lori and Koscielny were the farthest but ran the fastest, swinging their arms and knocking Ma’el to the ground upon reaching him.

"This is football, one side’s joy contrasting with the other side’s sorrow!"

Henry wanted to say something profound, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he found he couldn’t constrain the corners of his mouth, "Revel to your heart’s content! Enjoy the victory on the European Cup stage! That’s a childhood dream for many!

"I believe this goal will instill a sense of collective honor in everyone on the France team...because every one of them has participated! Everyone’s contribution is indispensable!"

"..."

On the field, the frenzy at the corner flag was still ongoing. The whole France team had rushed over, except for Meks, who stayed in their half worried that the opponent might quickly restart from the center circle.

"Do you know how I feel?"

Koscielny got up from the ground, pulling Ma’el up and hugging him tightly, "So fortunate, yet so terrified! If my clearance hadn’t gone far, if you hadn’t headed it to Nasri, this ball would have been gone!"

Nasri, standing nearby, laughed with his head raised, gave Koscielny a pat, and said, "If you say it that way, I should be terrified too. If my crossing had gone awry, everything would still have been gone.

"The same goes for Welbeck, if his shot had been too high, Ma’el wouldn’t have had a chance for the follow-up shot."

Watching them gather and talk about trivial matters, Ma’el shook his head, laughingly concluded with a sigh: "That’s why we are here celebrating together at this moment.

"Come on! The first victory should already be in hand, now it’s time to cheer ourselves up!

"We still have to beat Ukraine and Sweden! Strive to top the group and advance to the quarter-finals!"

All the France team players looked at him, waiting for his next move. At this moment, many accepted this captain from their hearts.

Ma’el signaled everyone to clench their right fists, then bow slightly and step forward to face the stands.

Others quickly caught on, imitating his actions, uniformly following Ma’el’s rhythm, and after a low growl, they swung their fists towards the sky, "Ohhhh...Yeah.....!!"

This was a collective celebration to boost cohesion, a ceremony to eliminate all short-term rifts, all infighting possibilities!

On the return journey, Yohan Cabaye followed beside Ma’el, smiling and asking: "Is everyone doing this action together a rehearsal for the trophy lifting ceremony in advance?"

"Haha.....!" Ma’el laughed heartily several times, nodding: "Yes, I’ve lifted the trophy twice this year, and I’ve been looking forward to the third time."

Yohan Cabaye raised an eyebrow and smiled, shrugged and said nothing more, the words were indeed inspiring, but the only downside is it also hits people quite hard.

Ma’el didn’t look at him again, and as he ran past Gilbert, he hoped to share a smile with his friend or see the helplessness on his friend’s face.

But clearly, Gilbert was immersed in the overall suppressed atmosphere of the England team, wholly focused on staring into space.

Ma’el didn’t disturb and turned to look at the coaching bench, raising his right arm to signal Deschamps... when he felt a tickle in his nose and his expression changed, quickly making a first finger gesture.

Deschamps didn’t notice anything unusual, leaned back and laughed, then clenched his fists, shaking his arms to greet Ma’el.

Somehow, he remembered the legendary old coaches Yakai and Lemerre from his playing days at the France team, guiding them to a Grand Slam within three years.