Kaka stepped onto the pitch in a complete daze, making his way toward the centre circle almost entirely on muscle memory.
He still hadn’t figured out what was happening to him.
The Liverpool players opposite him had fire in their eyes, but apart from a handful of famous faces, Kaka couldn’t even name most of them.
The memories in his head were a tangled mess, and even his body felt strangely stiff and unfamiliar.
But the match had already restarted.
The referee blew his whistle to begin extra time, and a deafening roar instantly swept through the stadium.
Kaka shuddered involuntarily, goosebumps rising all over his arms.
The two teams were set up roughly as follows:
Liverpool: 3-5-1-1
Goalkeeper: Jerzy Dudek (1)
Defenders: Jamie Carragher (23), Sami Hyypiä (4), Djimi Traoré (21)
Midfielders: Vladimír Šmicer (11), Steven Gerrard (8), Dietmar Hamann (16), Xabi Alonso (14), John Arne Riise (6)
Attacking Midfielder: Luis García (10)
Forward: Djibril Cissé (9)
…
AC Milan: 4-3-1-2
Goalkeeper: Dida (1)
Defenders: Cafu (2), Jaap Stam (31), Alessandro Nesta (13), Paolo Maldini (3)
Midfielders: Gennaro Gattuso (8), Andrea Pirlo (21), Serginho (27)
Attacking Midfielder: Kaka (22)
Forwards: Jon Dahl Tomasson (15), Andriy Shevchenko (7)
Liverpool continued with the system that had fuelled their miraculous second-half comeback.
Cissé stayed high up the pitch, while Luis García moved freely behind him.
Gerrard, Xabi Alonso, and Hamann packed the centre of midfield, with Riise and Šmicer providing width.
When necessary, the wide players could drop deeper and help form an extremely compact defensive block alongside Hyypiä, Carragher, and Traoré.
It was basically a fortress designed to absorb pressure and strike on the counter.
Meanwhile, AC Milan maintained their familiar diamond midfield.
Shevchenko and Jon Dahl Tomasson formed the strike partnership, with Kaka operating behind them as the attacking midfielder.
Andrea Pirlo sat deeper and dictated play, while Gattuso and Serginho worked either side of him.
Behind them stood Milan’s star-studded back four of Maldini, Nesta, Stam, and Cafu.
When Milan attacked, the midfielders could push forward in numbers, while Cafu regularly charged down the right flank.
At their best, Milan could throw four or even five players into an attacking move without completely losing their defensive shape.
Of course, not every team could afford to play that way.
Not unless they also had a defence as ridiculously luxurious as Milan’s.
Then again…
That supposedly legendary defence had just conceded three goals in six minutes.
So perhaps “luxurious” didn’t mean much tonight.
As extra time began, Milan were noticeably more cautious.
Their midfielders no longer charged forward recklessly and instead stayed closer together to protect the centre.
The pressure Gerrard and the rest of Liverpool’s midfield had placed on them during the second half had simply been too much.
Liverpool kicked off.
Cissé touched the ball back, and it was quickly worked through midfield before reaching Gerrard.
The future slip specialist raised his head, glanced toward Milan’s defensive third, and swung a pass toward the flank.
Liverpool tried to push forward, but Paolo Maldini stepped in brilliantly and poked the ball toward Andrea Pirlo.
Pirlo played it first time to Serginho.
Serginho carried the ball forward for a couple of steps before slipping it into the centre toward Kaka, just before Gerrard could close him down.
And then…
The ball was lost.
Are you fucking kidding me?!
Kaka was still completely dazed.
Somehow, he had travelled back to 2005, and the very first thing fate had asked him to do was play against Liverpool in the bloody Miracle of Istanbul.
After stepping onto the pitch, he’d secretly pinched himself several times just to make sure this wasn’t a dream.
Unfortunately…
It wasn’t.
He really had become Kaka during the 2005 UEFA Champions League Final.
But there was one tiny problem.
How the hell was he supposed to play football at this level?!
This body clearly possessed all of Kaka’s technique, athleticism, and talent.
But the soul controlling it belonged to an ordinary football fan whose greatest expertise came from watching matches while lying on a sofa.
Their reflexes weren’t even remotely on the same level!
When Serginho’s pass came toward him, Kaka instinctively stepped forward to receive it.
Before he could properly control the ball, Gerrard charged in, stabbed it away with the tip of his boot, and shouldered Kaka off balance.
“Serginho finds Kaka…
Kaka…
Gerrard wins it!
Kaka’s lost possession, and Liverpool are breaking!”
The commentator had barely begun describing Milan’s attacking move when the entire situation changed in an instant.
After robbing Kaka, Gerrard moved the ball quickly to Šmicer, who turned immediately.
Kaka’s inexplicable mistake caught Milan completely off guard, and their defensive shape instantly descended into chaos.
Luis García burst forward, dragging defenders with him, while Cissé sprinted through the middle and escaped the recovering Andrea Pirlo.
Serginho rushed toward Šmicer, but the Czech midfielder released the ball at exactly the right moment.
The pass rolled perfectly into Cissé’s path.
Nesta hurried across, blocking the route to the left and forcing Cissé toward the right while shouting for his teammates to recover.
In the end, Paolo Maldini slid across and knocked the ball behind for a corner.
But that sudden attack left the entire Milan side covered in cold sweat.
On the touchline, Carlo Ancelotti, who had already been hanging on by a thread, nearly swallowed his chewing gum.
Only when Maldini cleared the ball did he finally breathe again.
Then his eyes immediately locked onto Kaka.
His expression was terrifying.
What the hell was wrong with this kid?
How did he lose possession like that?
And worse, after losing the ball, he hadn’t even chased back!
He’d just stood there watching Liverpool attack!
Meeting Ancelotti’s furious stare from the touchline, along with the strange looks coming from several teammates, Kaka knew he had just humiliated his idol.
He lowered his head awkwardly, shook it, spat onto the grass, then raised a hand and tapped his chest to signal that the mistake was his.
Afterward, he gave Maldini a thumbs-up.
He might not know how to play football at this level…
But he had watched enough football to know the gestures.
Liverpool took the resulting corner, but Nesta dealt with the danger.
The ball was eventually worked back toward Andrea Pirlo, and Milan regained possession.
Kaka wandered around midfield, exchanging short passes with his teammates and trying desperately to awaken whatever football instincts remained inside this body.
GOAT!
Save me!
If you don’t come out soon, I’m going to embarrass both of us!
Unfortunately, no miracle occurred.
The real Kaka did not suddenly appear to rescue the fake Kaka currently impersonating him on the biggest stage in European football.
As the minutes passed, Carlo Ancelotti’s frown grew deeper.
His eyes kept drifting toward Kaka, who looked increasingly disconnected from Milan’s attacking system.
What on earth had happened to him?
How could someone look like a completely different player after a five-minute break?
His basic technique was still there.
He could receive the ball.
He could protect possession.
He could exchange passes with his teammates.
He could even participate in pressing and transitions without completely falling apart.
But nearly ten minutes of extra time had passed.
And Kaka had not attempted a single one of his trademark forward bursts.
Not one.
Was this really Kaka?
Ancelotti’s face grew redder and redder.
At this point, even his chewing gum had lost its appeal.
He seriously considered taking Kaka off.
The youngster was clearly having a terrible night.
Not only was he contributing almost nothing going forward, but his hesitation was beginning to disrupt Milan’s attack.
But who could replace him?
After hesitating for a moment, Ancelotti finally made his decision.
Substitution!
Rui Costa came on for Gennaro Gattuso, giving Milan another creative presence in midfield and improving their ability to move the ball forward.
He wanted to attack.
The substitution board was raised on the touchline.
Kaka looked over eagerly.
Then his shoulders dropped.
It wasn’t him.
Fuck!
Only God knew how torturous the last dozen minutes had been.
Controlling Kaka’s body felt like a child trying to run in a giant’s boots.
Everything was too fast and too precise.
He simply couldn’t keep up.
If it weren’t for Kaka’s incredible natural reflexes and deeply ingrained muscle memory, he probably would have made himself the biggest joke in Champions League history already.
Rui Costa’s introduction produced an immediate effect.
Milan quickly began organising wave after wave of attacks.
Shevchenko and Jon Dahl Tomasson both found opportunities to shoot, but none of them could turn Milan’s pressure into a goal.
Some shots were blocked.
Some were saved by Dudek.
Others flew harmlessly over the crossbar.
As the clock continued ticking, frustration spread through the Milan players.
Then came the 120th minute.
After spending most of extra time as little more than a spectator, Kaka watched Andriy Shevchenko receive the ball and fire toward goal.
Dudek managed to tip it over the crossbar.
Corner to AC Milan.
Andrea Pirlo walked toward the corner flag, breathing heavily.
Then he looked toward Kaka and waved furiously, signalling for him to get into the penalty area.
Why the hell was a guy his size standing outside the box?
Drenched in cold sweat, Kaka reluctantly entered the area and carefully positioned himself near the far post.
Hyypiä stood in front of him.
Carragher pressed tightly against him from behind.
Sandwiched between the two defenders, Kaka immediately felt uncomfortable.
And after playing for nearly two hours…
Good lord.
The smell wasn’t exactly pleasant either.
Unable to bear it, he pushed slightly against the man pressing into his back.
The moment he turned his head, he met Jamie Carragher’s furious glare.
After nearly two hours of football, Carragher’s face was bright red and his hair was soaked and dishevelled.
Combined with that murderous expression, he looked less like a footballer and more like a Viking who had somehow wandered onto the pitch carrying an invisible axe.
…Yeah.
Better not rile this guy.
Better not.
Kaka immediately admitted defeat and wisely shuffled a few steps away.