章節 162: Championship and Transfer!
After scoring the goal, Lin was immediately substituted by Bosque.
The veteran coach had seen the murderous expressions on the Brazilian players' faces. Leading by three goals, he didn't want to risk having his key player on the field, potentially getting injured by a retaliatory foul.
Like Xavi earlier, Lin received applause from the Spanish fans as he left the field.
But soon, boos erupted from the stands.
The Brazilian fans hated him to the core.
If it weren't for his three goals, Brazil might have secured a three-peat championship.
Ignoring the boos, Lin walked to the sideline and high-fived Torres.
"Boss, have some water!"
Chelsea's young player Azpilicueta handed him a bottle of energy drink.
"Thanks!"
Lin thanked him and took the drink.
Morata, standing nearby, awkwardly retracted his own drink, glaring at Azpilicueta.
This guy was faster than me!
Unfortunately, Azpilicueta was too busy currying favor with Lin to notice Morata's expression.
"Boss, you were amazing! A hat-trick in the finals! I could never do that in my life!"
Morata cut in mercilessly, "You're a defender. You can't score even one goal in ten games, and you dream of a hat-trick? Why don't you just fly to the sky?"
Alvaro Arbeloa, standing by, disagreed:
"Ramos almost scored a hat-trick during the World Cup qualifiers. What's wrong with a defender scoring? Defenders can score too!"
"Ah, right, right, Alvaro. My bad, I was too narrow-minded!"
Arbeloa and Ramos were senior members of Real Madrid. Morata, as a newcomer, naturally didn't dare argue with them, so he quickly conceded.
Lin noticed Morata seemed upset, likely because he didn't get any playing time, making him feel frustrated and dejected.
But Lin couldn't help him. Spain's current tactics didn't require a traditional center forward.
Unless Morata changed his style, moving to the wing or attacking midfield, he'd remain Torres's substitute.
And with Torres himself getting limited playing time, Morata's chances were even slimmer.
However, Morata's frustration soon vanished.
Five minutes later, the referee blew the final whistle.
With goals from Lin and Martínez, Spain defeated host Brazil 4-1 to win the Confederations Cup.
Spanish players and staff from the bench stormed the field to celebrate another trophy!
Since winning the World Cup in 2010, Spain had consecutively claimed the World Cup, European Championship, and Confederations Cup within three years.
At the national team level, they had achieved a true Grand Slam!
The Spanish team had established their own dynasty.
If one World Cup victory wasn't enough, next year, if they win the World Cup again at this very stadium, no one in the world could question the dynasty they had built!
Lin and his teammates didn't think that far ahead; they were simply enjoying the joy of victory.
This was Lin's first international tournament trophy, making it very special for him.
...
After the match, staff quickly set up the award stage.
Event officials and award-presenting guests took the stage.
Cameras captured FIFA President Sepp Blatter's presence.
First up was the Confederations Cup Golden Boot award.
There was no suspense here—Lin won the top scorer award with 10 goals.
"Congratulations, young man, your performance was truly astonishing!"
Blatter whispered in Lin's ear as he presented the award.
"Thank you for your kind words, Mr. President!"
Lin accepted the Golden Boot from Blatter, shook hands with the presenters, took photos, and then stepped down the other side.
The Silver Boot went to Lin's teammate Torres.
Despite not starting many matches in this Confederations Cup, Torres was fortunate enough to score six goals in his limited appearances.
Of course, five of those goals were against Tahiti.
Efficiency-wise, Torres's goals-per-minute rate was higher than Lin's, making him the true efficiency king!
Although he didn't start often, Torres was content with the Silver Boot and the championship.
The Bronze Boot went to Brazil's star player Neymar.
Unlike Lin, who looked relaxed, Neymar couldn't muster a smile.
Brazil lost the championship at home, and he was utterly defeated by Lin in their head-to-head match.
Thinking about not scoring a single goal in the final, Neymar couldn't bring himself to smile.
"Is your Silver Boot shinier than my Golden Boot?"
Lin teased, comparing his Golden Boot to Torres's Silver Boot, feeling his Golden Boot's color was off.
"Hehe, mine is pure silver. Yours is probably gold-plated, with less gold, making it look duller!"
"Really? I thought it was pure gold!"
"In your dreams! If it were solid gold, it'd be worth tens of thousands of euros. Do you think the organizers would be that generous?"
Having won numerous Golden Boots, Torres knew just by hefting Lin's trophy that it was gold-plated.
"If you like my Silver Boot so much, why don't we trade?"
Torres nudged Lin, suggesting.
Lin rolled his eyes; Torres's scheme was as clear as day.
Neymar felt like an outsider. Although he understood their language, he couldn't join the conversation.
Finally, after the photo session ended, the three shook hands and stepped down the stairs.
Next, Spain's goalkeeper Casillas came up. With only three goals conceded in five matches and a penalty save against Brazil, he won the Golden Glove award.
After Casillas stepped down, Lin returned to the stage.
This time, he received the Golden Ball award.
This Golden Ball wasn't the annual one but the one specifically for the Confederations Cup.
The design was different, looking more like a lamp.
"Congratulations! I hope to see you here again next year!"
Blatter handed the Golden Ball to Lin, patting his shoulder.
"Thank you, Mr. President. I hope to receive these two awards from you next year too!"
Blatter was taken aback. The World Cup Golden Ball and Golden Boot?
That's quite a challenge!
This kid is really confident!
The Silver Ball went to Neymar.
Despite Brazil's loss, Neymar's excellent performance couldn't be denied.
However, in the crucial match, Neymar underperformed.
Had he performed better and scored that penalty, the match might have been different.
The Bronze Ball went to Lin's teammate Iniesta.
Although Iniesta didn't score many goals, his performance was outstanding throughout the tournament.
Once again, the award stage featured two Spaniards and one Brazilian.
But since Iniesta was Neymar's teammate, he chatted with him a bit, easing Neymar's awkwardness.
After they stepped down, the entire Spanish team took the stage to receive the Fair Play Award.
This was Lin's third time on the award stage.
Having been up so many times, even the fans started joking:
"Lin should just stay on stage. Why keep going up and down? It's exhausting!"
"Exactly, the organizers didn't think this through!"
"Haha, they probably didn't expect Lin to win so many awards. They should have given him a seat on the stage!"
After presenting the Fair Play Award to Spain, Blatter awarded Bosque the Best Coach Award.
This award was well-deserved. Bosque led the team with an outstanding record in this Confederations Cup.
Spain won every match easily!
Of course, this was partly due to Spain's strong lineup.
But in key matches against strong opponents like Uruguay, Italy, and Brazil, Bosque's tactics were superior.
After all the miscellaneous awards were presented, it was time for the main event—the Confederations Cup Championship Trophy!
Spanish players took the stage one by one. The veterans who had won the 2010 World Cup were calm.
But the younger players couldn't resist touching the trophy as they passed it!
Lin also touched it, but unlike the others, he wondered:
Is this golden trophy solid gold or gold-plated?
According to team seniority, the captain Casillas and veterans like Xavi should have lifted the trophy.
But Casillas and Xavi called Lin over:
"Lin, let's lift the trophy together!"
"Sure!"
Lin didn't decline and joined them in lifting the Confederations Cup trophy high.
Confetti rained down on the stadium, and the iconic song "We Are the Champions" played.
Countless cameras captured this historic moment.
...
While Lin was playing in the Confederations Cup, the European transfer market was heating up.
The most notable rumor was about Gareth Bale's transfer from Tottenham Hotspur to Real Madrid.
Real Madrid's first offer to Tottenham was 87 million euros. If completed, it would be the second-highest transfer fee in football history, second only to Cristiano Ronaldo's 96 million euros.
Tottenham seemed to think Real Madrid would go higher, promptly rejecting the offer and declaring Bale not for sale.
Real Madrid quickly understood this meant the price was too low.
They increased the offer to 93 million euros.
This time, Tottenham didn't respond quickly. After all, 93 million euros was beyond their expectations.
But Real Madrid's eagerness made Tottenham wonder if they could squeeze even more money out of them.
So Tottenham simply didn't respond.
With experience from Modric's transfer, Tottenham was skilled at dealing with wealthy clubs like Real Madrid.
They knew Real Madrid couldn't afford to wait long and risk missing the summer training.
Real Madrid knew Tottenham's tactic of delaying to demand a higher price.
So they approached Bale's agent to work on the player himself.
When Bale heard Real Madrid was willing to pay so much, he was ecstatic.
Tottenham couldn't compare to Real Madrid's Galácticos.
Besides, Real Madrid's high offer showed they valued him highly, intending to make him a key player.
Bale immediately expressed strong interest in joining Real Madrid.
To support Real Madrid's effort, Bale even went on strike, refusing to join Tottenham's summer training.
Bale's strike was
an open confrontation with Tottenham. If they didn't sell him, their relationship with the player would be irreparably damaged, leading to a lose-lose situation.
Thus, Tottenham chairman Levy arranged a meeting with Real Madrid president Florentino Pérez in London to discuss the transfer.
"President Pérez, what you're doing isn't very ethical!"
"Heh, you're no better!"
The two old foxes laughed after speaking, dropping the pretense.
"Let's not waste time. You can take Bale for 100 million pounds!"
Levy directly asked for a king's ransom.
Pérez chuckled, "You think Bale's worth more than Ronaldo?"
Levy scoffed:
"Heh, where else can you find such a strong winger so suited to Real Madrid? You think it's expensive; I think it's expensive too!"
"Bale isn't irreplaceable!"
Pérez held firm, tapping the table:
"He's just one of our many options!"
Levy clearly didn't believe Pérez:
"Who else are you talking to?"
Pérez hadn't planned to reveal insider information but had no choice now.
"Spain's front-line core, fresh off winning the Confederations Cup's best player—Lin!"
Levy sneered, "As far as I know, Lin has already signed with Bayern!"
"Heh, then your information is outdated!"
Pérez replied with a smile.
Levy's expression turned uneasy. He couldn't tell if Pérez was bluffing.
But if Lin did go to Real Madrid, they wouldn't need Bale.
Real Madrid needed a right winger, and Lin played that position in the Bundesliga.
Bale, on the other hand, played left wing at Tottenham and would need time to adapt.
As if on cue, just as Pérez mentioned Lin, his agent called.
Seeing the caller, Pérez grinned, placing the phone on the table and turning on the speaker so Levy could hear.
"Hello, this is Real Madrid president Florentino Pérez!"
"Hello, Mr. President. This is Guardiola Pere!"
Levy's face went pale; it was indeed Lin's agent.
He couldn't believe Pérez was double-dealing!
"Heh, Pere, calling now means Lin has made a decision?"
"Yes, Mr. President, Lin has decided!"
"Heh, that's right. Real Madrid is the best club in the world, worthy of such an outstanding player. I'm glad you made the right choice!"
Pérez smugly crossed his legs, feeling triumphant.
Teach you to demand a high price!
Teach you to ask for a king's ransom!
Now we have a better option and don't need your player. Keep him yourself!
Levy began to tremble!
93 million euros!
He watched it slip away!
He wished he could slap himself. If only he hadn't been so greedy, he'd have the money now!
"Ahem, Mr. President, Lin isn't joining Real Madrid!"
Crash!
Pérez's cup fell to the ground:
"Damn it, where is he going?"
"To Manchester City!"
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