Chapter 675 - 7: Securing Group Qualification! New Market Value and the Dawn of a New Era! Ma’el Powers Up for Arsenal at the European Cup!

Fourth goal of the European Cup!

goals in 5 matches for the national team!

"*&***...!"

"You ****!"

"Huff huff....!"

He sprinted towards the corner flag again, the sound of the wind overshadowing the jeers from the Ukraine fans, making him unable to suppress a smug and arrogant expression as he put down his right hand and shrugged towards them.

He almost never provokes others, and most of the time he knows his limits, avoiding inappropriate actions.

But in such a passionate sport, when something repeatedly upsets you, enough to ignite your anger, and you have the capability to retaliate.

At that moment, you must choose the boldest, most impactful way to vent everything!

He reached the sideline, raised his left leg and arm, clenched his right fist, and with the momentum of sprinting, he leapt off his right foot, swinging his fist in celebration in front of the Ukraine fan section, "Come on.....!!"

Come on! Come on! Bring it on!

Let the boos and curses come even more fiercely, stirring up his stronger fighting spirit, scoring even more goals!

"Ma’el scores again! The game can be declared over! France team wins a resounding four-nil victory over Ukraine!!

"They’ve caught up to Spain with the biggest point difference in this European Cup! They’ve also laid a solid foundation for finishing first in Group D!

"I really don’t know how to describe Ma’el and this France team. Before embarking on this European Cup journey, they were definitely not the most favored.

"Especially the latter, they were considered a team struggling even to advance!

"But look now, Ma’el, with consecutive braces, is leading them in a triumphant march, gradually revealing their potential to contend for a top-four spot or even a place in the finals!

"Counting the previous 3 matches, Ma’el has helped the France team score at least 2 goals in 5 consecutive matches! It’s terrifying!"

Today, Liu Jiayuan was commenting on this match, He Wei was often present during the knockout stage, and he hesitated for a long time, seemingly contemplating whether or not to say what was on his mind.

But in the end, when the camera showed Shevchenko still on the sidelines, he couldn’t hold back, "Shevchenko, ah, shouldn’t have provoked him! The Ukrainian legendary player made the wrong choice!"

"..."

On the sidelines, Shevchenko quickly took off the captain’s armband, tossed it to a teammate, then walked into the player’s tunnel without looking back.

"Bang!"

As he walked into the tunnel, the thought that it might really end like this brought tears to his eyes, making it hard to control his emotions, and he kicked over the trash can beside him.

He tore off his shin guards and muscle pads, knee pads, wristbands, and threw them all over the place, ultimately stripping off his jersey and walking dejectedly into the locker room.

He wasn’t angry with Ma’el, that was just venting. He had no malice towards this exceptional young player, more than anything, he was angry at his own irrationality.

When he entered the locker room, images of Ma’el sprinting past him, leaving several players behind, and celebrating leaping in the air kept flashing through his mind.

He realized he couldn’t forget this player, forming a bond with him in just one game.

Sitting down in the locker room, he rested his elbows on his thighs, hanging his head low, allowing sweat to drip one drop after another onto the ground.

An assistant coach came in, observing his condition, wanting to comfort him but not knowing where to start.

"Sheqie."

After a moment, Shevchenko lifted his head, looked at him, and confirmed one thing, "Before the European Cup started, what were the odds of France team winning? What were the Golden Boot odds for number 7 of France?"

"I don’t remember exactly." Sheqie shook his head, thought for a while, then said, "But I remember we were ranked 13th, France team should’ve been around 10th or 9th place, not much difference.

"As for Ma’el, his Golden Boot odds shouldn’t be low, at least in the top 6."

Shevchenko nodded absentmindedly, previously not paying too much attention to these odds, focusing entirely on the game, "So, they weren’t actually favorites to win? But they’ve always performed well in major tournaments."

"Not in recent years."

Sheqie shook his head again, looked at him, and said, "Sheva, time flies, they haven’t been the same for a long time.

"It’s been seven or eight years since their last strong era... each major tournament is like a growth ring, feeling like it was just around the corner in our memories, but it’s actually been a long time."

Shevchenko stared at a spot on the floor, shaking his head with a bitter smile, "Yeah, it also reflects that we’re really getting old, my memories of the France team remain from my peak period.

"It feels close, but when I think about it, it’s been ten years..... so, is it that number 7 who changed them?"

He lifted his head, asking the final question he most wanted to ask.

He began to realize that his earlier outburst was nothing more than a momentary gripe of frustration.

You could say that Ma’el wasn’t just lucky, but he brought happiness and fortune wherever he went.

Shevchenko couldn’t help but furrow his brows, how strong does a player have to be to accomplish that?

"I think so." Sheqie thought for a moment before answering, a hint of reminiscence in his smile, "In fact, he’s always been like this, seemingly burdened from the start of his career, yet he always achieves remarkable results each time."

"Two years ago, I was a technical analyst at Watford, experiencing that Championship season of his.

"I vaguely remember that at the start of the season, no one considered Sheffield United as a champion contender, we even thought this team could get relegated.