Chapter 251: [251] "PINTO ACKNOWLEDGES WEAKNESS"

He had not been forced to make a single diving save. He had not been required to punch away a single cross. The defensive line had effectively shielded him from every potential threat.

Pinto walked toward the center of the room. The locker room grew quiet again, the players turning their attention to the keeper.

Pinto was traditionally a quiet presence, content to operate in the shadow of Tomáš Blažek. He did not usually speak during the halftime intervals.

He looked at Amadou Fall, Leo Hernandez, Kévin Aubert, and Zack Florez. Then he looked at Gabriel Assis.

"I know I am a liability in the air," Pinto stated. His voice was steady, lacking any defensiveness or ego. He was simply acknowledging the undeniable limit of his own skill set. "I know my feet freeze when the ball gets crossed. I know Tomáš would come out and claim those high balls, and I know I can’t do it the way he does."

The room remained silent. Admitting such a weakness in a professional locker room was a massive risk. It invited scrutiny. It invited doubt.

But Pinto did not look doubtful. He looked deeply grateful.

"Côte d’Azur spent the entire week planning to expose that weakness," Pinto continued, rubbing the fabric of his goalkeeper gloves. "They built their entire game plan around putting high balls into the six-yard box and watching me panic. But you didn’t let them do it."

He pointed at the backline.

"Leo, Amadou. You won the headers they managed to launch from deep. You kept the airspace clear. Aubert, Zack. You locked the touchlines."

He looked at the Brazilian winger. "Gabriel. You ran yards backward to make a tackle just to keep a cross from coming into my box. I saw it. I know what that costs your legs."

Pinto dropped his hand, looking at the squad.

"Thank you. For covering my weakness. For doing the dirty work so I didn’t have to get exposed out there. I appreciate it. Truly."

For a brief moment, the locker room was still silent. The raw honesty of the backup goalkeeper resonated through the squad. It wasn’t about individual statistics. It was about the collective survival of the team.

Klaus Becker was the first to break the silence. The German vice captain stood up, walking across the room and wrapping a massive arm around Pinto’s shoulders.

"You stop the shots on the line, Pinto," Klaus rumbled, his voice loud inthe room. "We stop the crosses. That is the agreement. Nobody exposes you today. We are a wall, a collective blavk and gold wall."

Amadou Fall slammed his fist against his locker. "No free headers! We own the box!"

Cillian Doyle clapped his hands together, the sharp sound cutting through the room. "Let’s go! Forty-five minutes to kill their remaining hopes!"

The energy in the dressing room spiked, transitioning from focus into raw and highly unified aggression. The squad had forged a protective shell around their goalkeeper, and the success of that strategy had bonded the defensive unit tighter than any training drill ever could.

Luc watched the interaction from his bench. He strapped his shin guards back onto his calves, pulling his black socks up near his knees. The chemistry was flawless. The team was functioning exactly as it was designed to.

"Two minutes," the fourth official called out, sticking his head through the locker room door.

Henri stepped away from the wall. "On your feet. Focus. Côte d’Azur will make changes. Read the new legs immediately. Identify their strong foot, identify their pace. Do not let them surprise you."

The players grabbed their water bottles, taking final drinks before tossing them into the bins. They filed out of the dressing room, marching back down the corridor toward the tunnel.

The stadium noise had not diminished during the interval. The local supporters were restless, the continuous murmurs of nervous energy vibrating through.

SC Valois stepped back onto the grass. The floodlights had taken over completely, cutting through the encroaching evening darkness.

Luc jogged to the center circle, taking his position for the second half. He looked across the pitch, analyzing the FC Côte d’Azur lineup as they broke from their own huddle.

The stadium public address system sounded, the announcer rapidly listing three simultaneous substitutions for the home side.

They were pulling their exhausted left-back, their neutralized left-winger, and one of their central midfielders.

In their place, three fresh players sprinted onto the turf. Luc recognized their profiles immediately. The new left-winger/midfielder was younger, built for pure, explosive pace rather than technical stuff.

The new left-back was a towering, physical presence, clearly instructed to overlap aggressively and utilize his size to bully Kévin Aubert.

The new central midfielder was a veteran playmaker, brought on to distribute the ball faster and advance passed the suffocating Valois press.

Côte d’Azur was opting for fresh legs and raw athleticism. They were abandoning the methodical build-up and committing to a high-speed, direct assault down the flanks.

"They swapped the left side entirely," Klaus noted, walking past Luc to take his spot in the double pivot. "They are going to test Gabriel and Aubert immediately."

"Gabriel’s legs are already heavy," Luc replied, watching the new winger execute a series of rapid sprints near the touchline. "If they isolate him, Aubert might have an issue providing cover."

"Aubert can hold his own," Klaus stated firmly. "We stick to the plan until Henri says otherwise."

The referee checked his watch, confirming the substitutions with the fourth official. He looked at both goalkeepers, then brought the whistle to his lips.

The second half commenced.

FC Côte d’Azur took the kickoff. The urgency was apparent from the first touch. The veteran playmaker received the backward pass and did not hesitate, he took one touch to settle the ball and launched a raking diagonal pass over the top of the Valois midfield, aiming for the fresh left-winger.

The ball soared through the dimming sky, passing over Klaus and Cillian.

The new winger accelerated, his fresh legs generating terrifying speed.