“Beautiful!”
The Boca Juniors bench instantly erupted.
“Paredes!”
“That is our number ten!”
“Too easy!”
The jeers from the River Plate stands paused for a moment.
Many River Plate fans stared with wide eyes, watching as that long pass tore the entire midfield apart.
The Boca Juniors right winger sprinted forward at high speed, carrying the ball toward the right side of the penalty area.
The River Plate fullback chased back desperately, finally using his body to nudge him outward, only just managing to force the cross past the end line.
But this attack had made it clear to everyone in the stadium.
Paredes was not just hype created by the media.
On the European broadcast feed, the commentators were already debating.
“Paredes really has skills.”
“Is this ball control too silky?”
“No wonder Roma, Paris, and Juve all want to scout him.”
“The River Plate midfield was just pierced through with one pass.”
“What about Tobías?
Wasn’t he hyped up to be so amazing?
Where is he?”
“He’s playing one of the two defensive midfield roles, but he just let someone pierce through two layers with one pass.”
“Don’t rush, it’s just the start.”
“Still not rushing?
If this is someone the Chinese national youth team didn’t want, and he gets crushed by Paredes, that would be hilarious.”
When the camera panned to Tobías, he had no expression.
He simply turned around and glanced at Paredes, who just happened to look up.
Their gazes met across half the midfield.
Paredes quickly looked away; he wasn’t being dismissive, he just didn’t feel the need to pay any special attention.
His opponent today was the entire River Plate team, as well as the scouts and European clubs in the stands.
He wanted to use this derby to push his market value up another notch.
The match continued.
Boca Juniors began to gradually entrust possession to Paredes.
In the 6th minute, a Boca Juniors defender intercepted the ball and immediately looked for the number ten.
Paredes received the ball with his back to the goal, with Gate already pressing him from behind.
Gate was physically strong, using his chest to pin him, whispering, “Don’t think you’ll get the ball comfortably.”
Paredes didn’t talk back.
He trapped the ball with his right foot and leaned back, as if protecting the ball to pass back.
Just as Gate pressed up, Paredes suddenly flicked his ankle and poked the ball out to his side.
He turned, and the ball followed.
Gate was a split second slow to extend his leg, and Paredes had already turned out.
“Damn it!”
Gate immediately gave chase.
Paredes looked up and played another diagonal pass, hitting the space behind the River Plate left fullback.
The Boca Juniors winger accelerated again.
The River Plate defense was forced to retreat deep.
Gil’s expression darkened on the sidelines.
“Gate! This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
Don’t press too hard!”
“Tighten up the midfield!
Don’t give Paredes space to turn!”
He shouted urgently because he could see that Paredes was in excellent form.
Once a midfielder like this finds his rhythm, the entire Boca Juniors team would be lifted by him.
On the other side, the Boca head coach had his hands in his pockets, looking much more relaxed.
The assistant coach leaned over and whispered, “The River Plate midfield can’t keep up with his rhythm.”
The Boca head coach nodded, “Of course.”
He watched Paredes on the pitch, his eyes full of confidence.
“He is no longer an ordinary youth player; as long as you give him the ball, he can control the match.”
The assistant coach smiled, “Those people from Europe will be satisfied today.”
The Boca head coach said calmly, “They will certainly be satisfied.
But the most important thing today isn’t the scouts; it’s beating River Plate.”
After speaking, he raised his hand and shouted onto the pitch, “Paredes!
Keep controlling the tempo!”
Paredes heard him and signaled for his teammates to push the formation up.
In the 11th minute, Boca Juniors took possession in midfield again.
River Plate’s front-court pressing failed, and the ball quickly reached Paredes’s feet again.
This time, Gate didn’t act rashly; he lowered his center of gravity and pressured from the side.
Tobías stood on the other side, blocking Paredes’s path to advance into the center.
The two formed a pincer attack.
The River Plate fans in the stands immediately started shouting.
“Take it from him!”
“Trap that number ten!”
“Don’t let him pass!”
Paredes, however, didn’t seem panicked.
He first used his right foot to pull the ball behind him, avoiding Gate’s first attempt to poke it away.
Gate gritted his teeth and followed up, sliding in directly!
This tackle was ferocious.
If he hit the ball, the Boca Juniors attack would be broken.
If he was a split second slow, he would likely take out both the player and the ball.
“Gate!”
Someone on the River Plate bench exclaimed.
But Paredes seemed to sense the danger in advance.
The moment before Gate tackled, he gently tapped the ball with the sole of his foot and half-turned in place.
Gate slid past him.
Paredes still had the ball at his feet; he didn’t even stumble.
The next second, he poked the ball with the outside of his left foot, slipping through the small space behind Gate.
The whole stadium gasped.
“Beautiful!”
“His ball control is too strong!”
“Gate was beaten cleanly!”
Paredes dribbled into the open space in the middle, forcing the River Plate center back to step out.
But this was the moment he had been waiting for.
The Boca Juniors striker cut diagonally into the penalty area.
The River Plate goalkeeper came out decisively, pouncing on the ball before the opponent could shoot.
Although it didn’t result in a goal, the River Plate defense had been pushed back repeatedly.
Gil was furious and shouted from the sidelines, “Don’t press one by one!
Keep your distance!
Let him have the ball on the wing, don’t let him into the middle!”
Gate scrambled up from the turf, his expression grim.
He glanced at Paredes and muttered a curse, “This guy is slippery on his feet.”
Tobías walked over to him, “Don’t rush.”
Gate caught his breath, “You try it?
He turns too fast.”
Tobías looked ahead, “There will be an opportunity.”
Gate frowned, “What opportunity?”
Tobías didn’t answer.
Paredes received the ball again, and the entire Boca Juniors team seemed to revolve around him.
The defenders found him, the midfielders supported him, and the strikers started their runs based on when he looked up.
When the ball reached his feet, the Boca Juniors tempo would immediately slow down a beat.
When the River Plate players rushed up, he would suddenly accelerate again, sending the ball to the most dangerous position.
This was the control of a number ten.
On the European broadcast feed, the commentators were already drifting into debate.
“This is the genius that the European giants are eyeing.”
“Tobías is completely silent.”
“Wasn’t it hyped that River Plate was heavily cultivating him?
Why does he look like a bystander in front of Paredes?”
“The Chinese national youth team’s fighter doesn’t work well in South America.”
“Don’t hate blindly, Tobías is one of the two defensive midfielders, he’s often covering positions.”
“Covering?
Covered where?
He hasn’t even been on camera much.”
“Paredes is feeding chances one after another, and he’s just strolling in the back, right?”
“Did River Plate get scammed on the contract renewal?”
“One pundit even joked that the Chinese Football Association would be feeling vindicated.”
A few others couldn’t help but retort.
“If you don’t understand, don’t trash talk; Tobías’s positioning has been protecting the middle the whole time.”
“Protecting my ass, Paredes has almost completely manipulated River Plate’s tempo.”
“If they get crushed this match, Tobías’s hype will be gone.”
In the 18th minute, Paredes received the ball in midfield again.
This time, he didn’t rush forward.
He kept the ball at his feet, passed back, then pushed forward, and after receiving the return pass from his teammate, suddenly changed direction.
The River Plate midfielder was shaken off.
Gate came up to cover.
Paredes flicked the ball with his toe, the ball sliding past Gate’s feet, while he circled around the other side.
He dribbled past him!
/c/DRUNK_TL(remove space between)