Amid the cheers of the Foxes fans, the rest of the Leicester players gathered around the two of them to celebrate the goal.
While celebrating, captain Wes Morgan reminded his teammates not to get carried away.
“Great job, lads!
But don’t get too excited, the game isn’t over.
Keep it up!” It’s worth noting that although striker Nugent was smiling and seemingly listening to the captain, his mind was in turmoil.
He figured if that diagonal through ball had been for him, he could have scored too.
Recalling how he hadn’t immediately gone to check on Leo when Brown fouled him from behind, Nugent felt a wave of regret.
If this kept up, what if Leo stopped passing to him and only fed Vardy?
That couldn’t happen!
Just as Nugent was silently steeling his resolve, the Leeds manager on the touchline was screaming at his players.
“Fuck!
What are you doing out there?!” “I told you to stick to number 23, don’t let him pass so easily!” “Don’t you understand?!” Facing their manager’s fury, the Leeds players just hung their heads.
Many of them could only retort in their minds.
“Easy for you to say.
Number 23 drops all the way back to our half, how do we stick to him?
And he loves one-touch passes, how do you defend that?” “You do it if you’re so good!” After nearly half a minute of celebration, Leo, his black hair ruffled into a bird’s nest, finally emerged from the huddle of teammates.
Looking around at the home fans in the stands, who looked like wilted eggplants, Leo smiled.
“Liked booing, did you?
Why so quiet now?!” At that moment, a bold idea popped into his head.
Leo walked over to the blue stand where the Leicester fans were, spread his arms wide, and gestured, as if saying: “Get louder!
Make some noise!” This provocative gesture not only drew even louder cheers from the Leicester fans but also jolted the home fans out of their stupor, turning their shock into pure rage directed at the dark-haired kid on the pitch.
“Fuck you!” “Trash!” “Little shit!” Facing the piercing boos, the insults, and the debris thrown from the stands, Leo just smiled, seemingly enjoying it.
To him, this was nothing but the impotent rage of the weak.
The players on the pitch decided the game.
And he decided he was going to score another goal against Leeds, to shut these fans up completely.
— With the score against them, and considering Michael Brown’s stamina couldn’t sustain high-intensity pressing, and to avoid him getting another yellow card and being sent off, the Leeds manager made substitutions.
“Leeds makes a change, taking off Michael Brown, who is on a yellow card, and bringing on…” “Three changes at once, Leeds is going all out.
But is it too late?” “Yes, if they’d made these changes five minutes earlier to keep the midfield’s energy and pressure, maybe Leicester’s goal wouldn’t have happened.” “That’s football.
Things change in an instant on the pitch.
Anything can happen.” “That’s Leo’s fourth assist in his last three games.
An assist per game average is simply astonishing!” “Three consecutive games with an assist, and all coming off the bench.
If he’d been getting minutes since the start of the season, his assist tally would likely be near the top of the charts…” On the touchline.
Compared to the anxious Leeds manager, Leicester boss Pearson, having seen his player score, looked exceptionally calm.
He just high-fived his assistant Walsh and said, slightly smugly: “Steve, our tactic worked!” “In these short ten-plus minutes, his performance has been flawless!” “If we’d started Leo from the beginning and used a 4-2-3-1 possession style, would our control be even stronger?” “We can try it.
Mahrez on the right wing contributes more than Knockaert.” “Dyer on the left is getting older, his ability to beat a man on the flank has declined badly.
We can move Knockaert to the left, or just have him come off the bench…” “Besides the right wing position, in this formation, there’s only one striker.
Nugent or Vardy, who do you think can handle it?” Hearing this, assistant manager and chief scout Walsh stroked his chin and replied: “Vardy is faster, his movement is more flexible.
Nugent is stronger in duels, better as a focal point up front…” “Our tactic is built around Leo as the core.
So, personally, I think we should pick the player who has better chemistry with Leo.” Listening to his old friend, Pearson looked at Vardy and Nugent on the pitch, nodded slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
— With a long whistle, play resumed.
After the kickoff, Leeds finally got possession and organized an attack.
But perhaps they were too impatient, their passing intent too obvious, as the midfield’s long ball for the striker was headed clear by Leicester captain Morgan.
The ball flew out, Drinkwater chested it down, stepped on it, and controlled it steadily.
“Danny!” Hearing Leo call his name, Drinkwater passed the ball without hesitation.
Seeing Leo on the ball, Elland Road erupted in deafening boos.
However, this didn’t bother Leo at all.
Instead, it motivated him even more to deliver the killer pass that would end the game.
Michael Brown, who had fouled him maliciously, had been subbed off.
The only targets left for his revenge were the tens of thousands of home fans booing him in Elland Road.
“Still booing me?
I’ll shut you up in a second!” Without a moment’s hesitation, he launched a long ball over the top, targeting the space behind the right back.
It was a vast, empty expanse.
Mahrez, having anticipated the pass, got a slight jump on the retreating fullback and ran into the space.
Stretching out his left foot, he controlled the ball perfectly with the outside of his boot, then immediately drove forward, charging towards the Leeds box.
However, under the frantic chase of the Leeds left back, he couldn’t cut inside and was forced towards the byline.
Just before reaching the byline, Mahrez glanced into the box and whipped a cut-back pass with his right foot.
“Mahrez takes it to the byline, no angle to shoot, what’s he going to do…” “Right foot…
he passes!” Amid the commentator’s exclamation, the ball rolled rapidly towards the penalty spot.
At the same time, a blue figure had already arrived.
That black hair, that ice-cold expression…
It was Leo, arriving late into the box.