Chapter 674 - 7: Securing Group Qualification! New Market Value and the Dawn of a New Era! Ma’el Powers Up for Arsenal in the European Cup! (3)

Fake shot, real breakthrough!

Ukraine’s defensive line seemed like it was made of paper at this moment, easily bypassed by Ma’el. This scene was no less spectacular than when Ronaldo once dribbled through an entire defense line with a single kick.

"Aahhhh.....!!" The French fans started celebrating early. They knew the fourth goal was coming, and Ma’el wouldn’t miss such an opportunity.

One pass, one breakthrough, an unstoppable action!

"Deng deng deng!"

The sound of feet stomping the ground echoed in the penalty area. Shevchenko, who was chasing back at high speed, reached Ma’el’s side. As a striker, he had anticipated Ma’el’s fake shot, and since he hadn’t slowed down, he naturally caught up.

Ma’el saw Shevchenko’s blocking foot just before his left-footed shot and quickly stopped, pulling the ball back.

"Pa!"

Shevchenko couldn’t stop in time. The long sprint of tens of meters made him extremely excited.

Knowing there was nothing to worry about, his back foot subconsciously tripped Ma’el, causing him to tumble awkwardly to the ground beside Ma’el.

"Beep!" When the referee’s whistle blew, and as he reached for his back pocket, Shevchenko quickly rolled over, knelt on the ground, and covered his face with both hands in frustration.

He woke up as if from a dream, wondering what he was doing in those previous seconds?!

The referee first pointed to the penalty spot and then showed a red card to the fallen Sheva.

Red card and penalty package!

Ukraine’s players quickly surrounded the referee, while France’s players rushed over to push them away.

Shevchenko slowly got up from the ground. His ears uncontrollably rang fiercely, as if taking him back to that night in Istanbul when he missed the penalty.

As Ma’el walked toward the penalty spot with the ball, Shevchenko rubbed his face, turned, and walked off the field. The two passed each other, their figures crossing.

"Shevchenko isn’t calm! This is his last European Cup. He had hinted before the tournament that after this Euro, he would retire.

"He must know that the whole of Ukraine relies on him alone to move forward. With his suspension, the team’s prospects for advancing from the group stage are very difficult.

"In fact, he didn’t have to challenge the young players. We just noticed that Ma’el originally didn’t really want to continue playing but regained his form after taking that hit, sprinting tens of meters!

"Looking at it from now, reaching this point isn’t unacceptable. Even if Ma’el scores in the end, it’s just a loss of face, without affecting the bigger picture.

"But Sheva made a mistake and then made another mistake, inevitably reminding me of Zidane’s incident with Materazzi during the World Cup final.

"Although this isn’t a final, the way this match has developed, it really might be the farewell game of the legendary Shevchenko’s career!

Can Ukraine still make it to the quarter-finals? I think it will be tough. They have to at least avoid a defeat against England in the last match!"

"....."

"Woo woo woo.....!"

"Xuxu~.....~!" Amid the booing and whistling throughout the venue, Shevchenko walked off the field with his head down, dejectedly heading towards the players’ tunnel.

He walked very slowly, looking back every few steps, as if reluctant to leave, even forgetting to take off the captain’s armband, only being reminded to hand it over at the entrance to the players’ tunnel.

Is it really over like this?

He truly couldn’t let go..... As he felt the pitch moving away from him, he remembered the beauty of being here.

Champions League victory, Milan dynasty, World Cup driving a single-core team into the quarter-finals.

Perhaps his early career wasn’t as smooth as Ma’el’s, and perhaps he wasn’t born in a football powerhouse..... but the height he achieved wasn’t low, he did everything he could do.

He could have left this field with his head held high, just ending like this leaves some regrets.

"Beep!"

In front of Ukraine’s penalty area, Ma’el approached the penalty spot with the ball, focusing intently on the ball at his feet as soon as he heard the whistle.

Deschamps had assigned the penalty takers during the first training session, and at that time he was third in line, after Nasri and Benzema, and it wasn’t reordered since then.

But at this moment, he certainly wouldn’t give up this penalty, and Nasri knew this too, showing no desire from start to finish, just standing on the penalty line waiting for a rebound.

"Hoo.....!"

Ma’el took a deep breath, looked up, and saw the Ukrainian fans behind the goal frantically waving and abusing him, trying everything to disturb him.

"Bang!"

He took another deep breath, then officially began his run-up, decisively pushing the ball towards the lower right corner of the goal with a firm shot on his third step.

There are very few techniques in penalties; if you overthink technique, seek angles and power from the twelve-yard spot, you risk being too clever for your own good, kicking a ball that instinct should drive home into a miss!

Decide firmly on one side, then kick it in the most comfortable way, and leave the rest to fate!

"Swoosh!"

Against the backdrop of the Ukrainian goalkeeper diving to the left, the ball hit the net, scattering the water that accidentally spilled on it during halftime into a spray.

The goal is in!

He scores again!

"WowWowWow...!!" Over twenty thousand French fans inside the stadium erupted in screams like beating drums, their jumping causing the suspended stands to sway.

Ukraine’s fans closed their eyes in pain, many holding their heads and shaking them as they left early.

"Yeah!"

Ma’el swung his right arm in anger, his energy booming around him as he ran toward the sideline, making a silencing gesture at the Ukrainian fans who had been hurling the worst insults, releasing his emotions.