After the match between Argentina and Mexico, a war of words broke out exactly as expected.
The media questioned the referee’s decisions, accusing him of applying double standards in Argentina’s favour.
They pointed out that the challenge which earned Márquez a red card was something Argentine players had done repeatedly throughout the match, yet most of them had escaped without even a yellow.
Poor Márquez had apparently tried copying one of Argentina’s signature moves and immediately got himself sent off.
The Argentine media, naturally, had absolutely no interest in discussing the rough challenges committed by their own players.
Instead, they launched an all-out attack on Mexico’s defensive approach, claiming that Argentina had been subjected to disgraceful fouling throughout the match.
Whether those complaints had any real merit…
Who knew?
Either way, none of it had anything to do with Brazil.
The Brazil national team had already boarded their chartered flight to Frankfurt.
Sitting on the plane, Kaka narrowed his eyes and opened the system.
A pleasant notification sounded in his mind.
[Calculating rewards from the match against Germany…]
[Host scored 2 goals.
Points +2]
[Host provided 1 assist.
Points +1]
[Current Point Balance: 18]
“Another three points.”
“Beautiful.”
…
June 29.
Frankfurt, Germany.
Waldstadion.
The FIFA Confederations Cup Final officially began.
Argentina vs Brazil.
Kaka followed his teammates into the dressing room and changed into his kit and protective gear with practised ease.
At the front of the room, Parreira was speaking passionately, explaining the tactical plan and key points for the match.
The veteran coach looked unusually serious.
His face grew red as he spoke, and by the time sweat started gathering on his forehead, he was already hammering the tactical board for emphasis.
After more than ten minutes of instructions, everything could basically be summarised in one sentence.
“Protect yourselves!”
Losing the final wasn’t the end of the world.
After Brazil’s performances throughout the tournament, Parreira’s coaching and the quality of the squad had already won plenty of approval back home.
Failing to lift the trophy would be disappointing, but Parreira felt his position was secure enough that he didn’t need to demand victory at all costs.
More importantly, Argentina’s reputation wasn’t exactly spotless.
Anyone who wanted evidence only needed to watch their semi-final against Mexico.
The Mexicans had practically been used as footballs by their South American neighbours.
Parreira had absolutely no intention of watching one of his important players suffer a serious injury in a tournament that wasn’t worth sacrificing a career over.
Whether it was Adriano, Robinho, Ronaldinho, or Kaka, an injury to any of them would be a major blow.
The 2006 World Cup was only a year away.
And Kaka in particular…
Right now, he was practically Parreira’s precious treasure.
No.
Brazil’s precious treasure.
If Kaka got injured in a match like this, Parreira suspected he might have to change his address before returning home.
After finishing his speech, Parreira stopped Kaka in the tunnel just before the teams walked out.
His expression was solemn.
“Ricardo, unless it’s absolutely necessary, don’t keep trying to dribble straight through their defensive line.
Control midfield.
Distribute the ball.
Feed the forwards and protect yourself.”
“Got it.”
Kaka had originally been perfectly calm.
But after being warned over and over again, he was actually starting to feel a little nervous.
By the time Brazil stepped onto the pitch, the expressions on several players’ faces were noticeably tense.
Then three minutes into the match…
Kaka became speechless.
“What am I supposed to do when the opposition suddenly looks this easy?”
He almost couldn’t suppress the urge to start showing off.
But one glance at the murderous expressions on Argentina’s defenders convinced him to remember Parreira’s advice.
On paper, though, Argentina’s squad definitely looked intimidating.
Their defence featured Fabricio Coloccini, Gabriel Heinze, and Diego Placente.
Coloccini played for Deportivo La Coruña.
As someone who remembered European football from the early 2000s very clearly, Kaka had plenty of respect for Deportivo.
At their peak, Super Depor had been one of the strongest sides in Spain and Europe.
Milan certainly had unpleasant memories of them after that disastrous Champions League quarter-final comeback in 2004.
Deportivo had declined sharply since then, but Coloccini still deserved respect as an established defender.
Then there was Heinze.
The hard-man defender from Manchester United.
That description alone told you enough.
He played aggressively, defended fiercely, and never seemed particularly interested in being gentle.
To build that kind of reputation in the Premier League of this era, you had to leave a few opponents questioning their life choices.
Then there was Placente, who was like a squirrel.
Compared with the others, he was less imposing.
A competent defender, certainly.
But against Brazil’s attack?
He looked suspiciously like the weak link.
Argentina’s midfield, however, was frightening.
Javier Zanetti.
Esteban Cambiasso.
Lucas Bernardi.
Juan Pablo Sorín.
And most importantly…
Juan Román Riquelme.
One of the finest classical number tens of his generation.
Those names hardly needed explanation.
Every one of them could play.
Up front, however, Argentina relied on César Delgado and Luciano Figueroa.
And that was probably the biggest reason they’d struggled so much during the tournament.
Their midfield was luxurious.
Their attacking line?
Not quite on the same level.
A textbook case of having all the ammunition in the world…
And not enough firepower at the front.
Although Argentina’s midfield and defence looked luxurious on paper, the combination had been thrown together temporarily and lacked chemistry.
The biggest problem was the double pivot Pekerman had improvised with Cambiasso and Bernardi.
The two of them had practically zero understanding.
Argentina’s midfield protection was so loose that it looked like an open door.
Against a side without overwhelming attacking quality, that might have been manageable.
Against Brazil?
That was basically asking to be punished.
By the 11th minute, Kaka, having been repeatedly warned by Parreira not to overdo his dribbling, had toned down his urge to attack and returned to one of his old specialties.
Organising the midfield.
He received a pass from Zé Roberto, carried the ball forward for a couple of steps, and then threaded a right-footed pass straight through Argentina’s midfield.
Adriano collected it near the edge of the box.
Cambiasso and Bernardi barely troubled him.
Adriano turned away from the centre-back and immediately whipped a left-footed curler toward goal.
The ball flew beyond Lux and into the net.
1-0.
And Brazil weren’t finished.
In the 16th minute, Kaka moved the ball to Ronaldinho, who immediately launched a long diagonal toward Robinho on the right.
Robinho’s one-on-one attempt was blocked, but Kaka had already surged forward.
He met Robinho’s sharp cutback almost completely unmarked.
One touch.
Thump!
Shot.
Far corner.
“Goal!”
Brazil 2-0 Argentina.
Riquelme’s face immediately darkened.
Argentina’s attack hadn’t even properly warmed up yet, and their defence had already allowed Brazil to score twice.
Unfortunately for him, his expression still had room to get darker.
The third goal arrived soon after.
In the 47th minute, Brazil won the ball back deep in their own half.
Cicinho immediately charged forward.
He combined with Kaka in a series of quick one-twos, tearing open Argentina’s flank as though the defenders weren’t even there.
Kaka slipped a short pass back to Cicinho.
Cicinho reached the byline and whipped the ball across.
Ronaldinho arrived at the far side and tapped it in.
Easy.
Brazil 3-0 Argentina.
As the teams headed toward the dressing rooms, Riquelme’s expression had become so dark that his clenched fists were visibly trembling.
He looked like he might explode at any moment.
…
Back inside Brazil’s dressing room, Parreira was delighted.
His face had practically blossomed.
He was an experienced coach, and he could clearly see that Argentina’s problems weren’t something that could be fixed with a simple tactical adjustment.
Their chemistry was the real issue.
Unless someone gave them another ten matches to learn how to play together, Brazil already had one hand on the trophy.
With that in mind, Parreira barely bothered discussing tactics.
He simply told Kaka and Ronaldinho that he planned to take them off somewhere around the 60th or 70th minute.
Both agreed immediately.
The second half began.
Adriano, who had spent most of the tournament frustrated, now looked like a tiger finally let out of its cage.
His first-half goal had completely ignited him.
In the 55th minute, he received a diagonal pass from Ronaldinho just inside the penalty area, took one touch, and smashed a shot toward goal.
Off the right post.
Three minutes later, Argentina finally created something dangerous.
Riquelme drove forward himself and split Brazil’s central defence with a brilliant pass.
Figueroa received it.
Then blasted the shot over the bar.
Forcing Riquelme, a player famous for slowing the game down and dictating tempo, to start carrying the ball forward himself said plenty about how unreliable Argentina’s forwards had been.
Unfortunately for Argentina, frustration wasn’t going to save them.
And Adriano clearly had no intention of showing mercy.
In the 63rd minute, Cicinho once again surged forward.
This time, Emerson joined him.
The two exchanged quick passes, almost copying the exact pattern from before.
Cicinho reached the byline.
Cross.
Kaka attacked the near post.
As the ball arrived, he delicately cushioned it with his forehead.
The header looped over Heinze.
Adriano rose behind him.
Bang!
And smashed a thunderous header into the net.
Brazil 4-0 Argentina.
That goal more or less ended the contest.
Argentina’s defenders didn’t even seem interested in turning the rest of the match into a fight anymore.
If the score had been close, maybe they could have raised the intensity.
Maybe they could have tried to intimidate Brazil.
But four goals down?
At that point, toughness had limits.
After all, they weren’t actually trying to kill anyone.
Argentina had clearly begun accepting defeat.
Unfortunately…
Kaka had finally started enjoying himself!
In the 68th minute, Juninho and Renato were already waiting on the touchline to come on.
Brazil launched another routine attack.
Neither Adriano nor Robinho even bothered making a serious run.
Kaka received a pass from Ronaldinho.
Then casually went past Zanetti.
Bernardi and Cambiasso stepped across.
Their partnership still looked as loose as ever.
Kaka increased his speed slightly.
Straight through.
No resistance.
He briefly considered taking on Heinze and Coloccini again, then changed his mind.
Too much effort.
From roughly three metres outside the penalty area, he planted his left foot and swung his right leg through the ball.
Hard.
Boom!
The shot exploded upward like an artillery shell.
Then dipped viciously.
The crowd gasped.
The ball bent through the air and dropped straight toward the top-left corner.
Almost brushing the point where the post met the crossbar.
Absolute top bins.
Lux didn’t move in time.
By now, the Argentine goalkeeper had already lost count of how many times he’d ended up on the ground.
He turned his head and stared at the ball in the net.
For the first time in his life, he truly hated the sight of a football.
Brazil 5-0 Argentina.
The fourth official raised the substitution board.
And amid thunderous applause from the entire stadium, Kaka and Ronaldinho walked off together.