“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
The Milan supporters in the stands exploded to their feet.
The moment the ball hit the net, Kaka sprinted toward the section packed with red-and-black shirts, dropped into a knee slide near the byline, and raised both hands in his trademark celebration, pointing toward the sky.
Effortlessly cool.
Gilardino came charging over, yelling, and practically tackled him to the ground.
A second later, Shevchenko, Serginho, and several others piled in on top.
Sheva might have had mixed feelings about Kaka now earning the same salary as him, but football was still a man’s competition.
If there was going to be rivalry, it belonged on the pitch.
Goals, assists and performances.
Not petty dressing-room politics!
So when Kaka scored, Sheva was genuinely happy for him.
Kaka eventually crawled out from beneath the pile.
Cafu, both his club and Brazil teammate as well as one of the senior figures in the squad, immediately threw an arm around his shoulders and patted him on the back with an amused smile.
Nesta and Stam also wandered over and messed up his hair.
Fourteen minutes gone.
AC Milan 1-0 Ascoli.
Kaka had dribbled past three players and smashed Milan into the lead.
When Ascoli restarted, something was clearly different.
Their players looked a lot more awake.
The reckless enthusiasm from the opening minutes had disappeared.
Especially in midfield.
The way they were looking at Kaka now was beginning to change.
Before the match, their coach had repeatedly told them one thing.
Watch Shevchenko.
Milan’s attack revolved around him.
He was the tactical centrepiece.
Their most dangerous weapon.
As for Kaka?
Yes, his numbers at the Confederations Cup had been ridiculous.
Almost inhuman.
But that was international football.
Several teams hadn’t even brought their strongest possible squads, and the intensity supposedly couldn’t compare with Serie A.
So there was no need to overreact.
The players had been slightly doubtful, but in the end they’d accepted the logic.
After all, people didn’t completely transform in half a month.
They’d watched Kaka in Serie A the previous season.
He hadn’t looked anything like the monster they’d seen at the Confederations Cup.
So…
What the hell was this?
And why did Kaka suddenly look at them like that?
Because something really had changed.
After the previous attack, Kaka had already confirmed one thing.
With the quality of Ascoli’s midfield, unless they started kicking him instead of the ball, they simply didn’t have enough to stop his dribbling.
In Kaka’s mind, they had officially been labelled:
Easy targets.
…
In the 25th minute, after nearly ten quiet minutes, the match suddenly burst into life again.
Pirlo looked up from deep and launched a long pass over the defence.
Shevchenko timed his run perfectly.
Onside.
He brought the ball down beautifully with his chest and charged into the penalty area.
One-on-one.
Carbone sprinted back with everything he had.
Sheva shaped to shoot.
At the very last moment, Carbone threw himself across with a sliding block.
The shot smashed into his thigh and ricocheted away.
Cudini, who had tracked back, immediately stepped in and hoofed the loose ball toward midfield.
A huge groan rolled through the Milan end.
That had looked like a certain goal.
Sheva grabbed his head in disbelief.
Then turned, ready to give Pirlo a thumbs-up for the brilliant pass.
Before he could…
The crowd suddenly erupted again.
“Shevchenko brings it down on his chest!”
“Beautiful control!”
“He’s through one-on-one!”
“Carbone is recovering!”
“Shevchenko shoots!”
“Blocked!”
“Carbone gets a thigh to it!”
“Cudini clears toward midfield!”
“Sheva can’t believe he’s missed that chance, he’s holding his head…”
“Wait!”
“KAKA!!!”
The commentator’s voice cracked.
“Oh my God!”
“Are you serious?!”
“KAKA FROM FORTY METRES!”
A thunderous volley exploded off his boot.
The ball screamed through the air.
Coppola didn’t even move.
He barely had time to react before it ripped into the top corner.
“WHAT A GOAL!”
“Forty metres out!”
“An absolute thunderbolt!”
“KAKA HAS DONE IT AGAIN!”
“An unbelievable volley!”
“A wonder goal!”
“An absolute wonder goal!”
It turned out that after Shevchenko’s one-on-one had been blocked and Cudini hoofed the ball clear, the loose ball fell to Nesta near midfield.
Nesta didn’t even bother controlling it.
He simply swung his right foot and sent the ball straight back toward the attacking third.
The ball climbed high into the air.
At that moment, Kaka was positioned to the left of the penalty area.
He saw it coming.
And suddenly had an idea.
Instead of bringing the ball down, he turned his body sideways, planted his left foot, twisted at the waist, and loaded his entire body behind the strike.
Then his right leg whipped through.
BOOM!
He caught the ball perfectly.
It exploded off his boot.
The shot flew through the air and ripped into the net before Coppola could do anything except stare.
The stadium completely lost its mind.
Beer.
Soft drinks.
Bottles of water…
Everything went flying into the air!
“AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!
KAKAKAKAKAKAKAKA!!!!!!”
The roar from the Milan supporters seemed loud enough to shake the entire city.
Kaka’s goal immediately reminded people of Zidane’s legendary volley in the 2002 Champions League Final.
Except Kaka had struck this one from much farther out.
And with his back partly turned toward goal.
In terms of pure difficulty, it was arguably even more outrageous.
The goal completely ignited the match.
Before halftime had even arrived, clips of Kaka’s forty-metre thunderbolt were already spreading everywhere.
Ascoli’s players were stunned.
They didn’t even need instructions from the bench anymore.
The defensive attention that had originally been focused on Shevchenko was immediately redirected toward Kaka.
Unfortunately for them…
Some players couldn’t be stopped just by throwing more bodies at them.
Especially when the defenders themselves were nowhere near the same level.
In the 37th minute, Cafu charged forward from deep.
He tore down the flank and whipped in a cross toward the near post.
Gilardino read it perfectly and rose for the header.
Bang!
Off the post.
The ball dropped into the six-yard area.
And before anyone else could react, Kaka appeared.
Like a fox.
Quick and Sharp!
He darted onto the rebound and delicately lifted the ball with the tip of his boot.
The ball rose over Coppola’s reaching hand.
And dropped into the net.
AC Milan 3-0 Ascoli.
Hat-trick.
And there were still almost ten minutes left in the first half.
Kaka was absolutely delighted.
He sprinted toward the travelling supporters, laughing as he raised both hands and pointed toward the sky.
The Milan fans looked ready to climb over the barriers and drag their Il Bambino d’Oro (The Golden Boy) into the stands for a group hug.
Once the celebration ended, Kaka returned to midfield.
And his eyes were still burning.
This match had confirmed something.
When Kaka possessed this level of dribbling ability, facing mid-table and lower-table Serie A sides became an absolute nightmare for the opposition.
Ascoli’s defence wasn’t even putting him under as much pressure as Japan had during the Confederations Cup.
At least the Japanese defenders had gone into challenges like they meant it.
Then, in the 44th minute, with halftime approaching, Pirlo gave him another gift.
A long ball flew across half the pitch.
Kaka positioned himself near the edge of the penalty area.
Chest control.
Thump!
The ball dropped.
And without letting it bounce, he swung his right foot.
Bang!
Volley!
Today, it was as though he’d borrowed Robin van Persie’s shooting boots.
Everything he hit cleanly wanted to become a goal.
The shot bent viciously through the air in a huge arc.
Then crashed into the top corner, almost brushing the point where the post and crossbar met.
Unsaveable.
Four goals.
In one half.
AC Milan 4-0 Ascoli.
Then came halftime.
Fifteen minutes later, the supporters eagerly waited for Kaka to return and continue the massacre.
Except…
He didn’t.
Ancelotti had already wrapped him in a training jacket and planted him firmly on the bench.
The moment Ascoli’s defenders realised Kaka wasn’t coming back onto the pitch, several of them looked close to tears.
Finally.
The angel-faced butcher was gone.