"Bang! Clatter!"
The French outside the stadium celebrated to their hearts' content, while inside the locker room, the Spanish were in a deathly silence, with only the occasional sound of fists hitting the wall and shin guards being flung away.
After the initial silence, many covered their faces with their hands and sobbed softly, their chests heaving.
Others hugged their knees, biting the flesh of their knees and thighs, as if hoping to alleviate the bitterness in their hearts with physical pain.
The runner-up is the biggest loser, as many have said.
For the players of the Spanish Team, they not only had to endure the pain of this profound defeat, but also the disappointment of falling from their peak and missing the best opportunity to win three consecutive major tournaments and become a super golden generation.
Everything was over. They missed the Championship Trophy, which was close enough to be ranked in the top three in the football world!
An indescribable burning sensation appeared on the Spanish Team players, first surging from their necks, then roasting their faces red, and then running through their entire bodies.
Most of them showed signs of agitation, scratching their ears and cheeks, or smashing things. Even those who sat still and tried to endure it were mostly clenching their teeth and breathing rapidly.
There was air conditioning in the locker room. This was probably just a physical reaction caused by extreme sadness.
"Clatter!"
Among them, Fabregas was particularly emotional. After throwing out his Shin guards, he also picked up those of Iniesta and others next to him and threw them on the ground.
He seemed to have gone completely mad, and it was difficult for others to persuade or stop him. Gradually, everyone let him do as he pleased.
"Clatter, clatter...!"
Fabregas knocked all the water bottles and tactical boards on the table to the floor, frantically sweeping everything away. If the table and the ground were not fixed, he would have overturned it directly.
He told himself to let it all out, to offset the pain with the pleasure brought by violence!
Hit! Smash! Vent!
"Bang!!" Fabregas slammed his fist **** on the glass door of the toilet. With a 'crash', the entire piece of glass shattered into pieces and quickly fell to the ground, bringing another irritating cracking sound.
He sat down on the ground with a thud, and blood dripped slowly from the knuckles of his right hand to the ground, but there was no pain.
"Haha...!" He suddenly laughed wildly, then lowered his head into silence, and tears burst out, "Ah!"
More than a year had passed, and time had actually diluted much of his hatred for Maël. This had something to do with the latter's increasingly improved performance and influence.
In the second half of his time at Barcelona, Fabregas could clearly feel that Maël was slowly no longer on the same level as him.
This made him feel very powerless, and would subtly make him try to slowly let go of the past and avoid seeking bitterness.
People sometimes do avoid such risks on their own, avoiding rushing to do some stupid things.
What rekindled his desire for revenge was the news that Barcelona was trying to buy Maël some time ago, as well as the public invitation from club core Messi on social media, and the invitation from his most respected coach Guardiola at Bayern.
All of this not only made him completely lose face, but also aroused some of the most fragile, self-esteem-hurting, and even regretful things in his heart!
"Ah!" His desperate cry grew louder, gradually disturbing the entire locker room.
Captain Casillas couldn't stand it anymore, so he came over and patted him on the shoulder to comfort him: "It's just a football game, just a cup competition. We've already lost, so there's no need to be like this. We must be calm at this time."
"How can I be calm?"
Fabregas found an outlet, he looked up at Casillas, "Everyone looks down on me, even my teammates treat me like a rat crossing the street, how can I calm down?!"
Iniesta, Busquets and other Barcelona players immediately lowered their heads, pursing their lips helplessly, this area-of-effect attack was definitely mainly aimed at them.
"Who treats you like a rat crossing the street?"
Xavi's expressive ability was stronger than the two, and his temper was slightly bigger. At this time, he came to his side, "Are you talking about us, talking about Barcelona? Is that right? It definitely includes us, right?"
He was somewhat disappointed, and said with cold eyes: "Think about how you joined the team last year, everyone withstood the pressure of public opinion to help you exert pressure, and how many people scolded them for cooperating with you.
"Just because you lost to your enemy in the European Cup, just because you are not happy at the club, you want to belittle us? You have only been in Barcelona for a year, can't you persevere?!"
The quarrel deviated from this final from the very beginning, deviated from the European Cup, and shifted to the club and even the relationship between them.
"How to persevere?"
Fabregas stood up and walked to Xavi's side, "How much did I pay to join the team? I broke up with Wenger, had a conflict with Maël, and I took millions of euros in transfer fees! What do others say about me? How did I endure it? From beginning to end, have I received even a bit of the respect I deserve?!
"You clearly know that Maël has conflicts with me, and you clearly know that I am already in the eye of the storm, but you openly make me a scapegoat! Do you want to use your attitude towards me to represent your sincerity towards Maël?
"What kind of treasure is he? How much temptation does he have? That makes you all lose your minds!"
Fabregas's chest heaved violently, his eyes were always red, and he bit his lip after saying these words.
"." These words also made Xavi silent for a while, and he could only say in the end: "That was the club's decision, it has nothing to do with us, and everything is not yet a foregone conclusion."
"Enough!"
Fabregas swung his right arm and sneered: "Xavi, you have no human touch at all, really none at all! Including Iniesta and Busquets, and also Pique and Pedro!
"Don't say such high-sounding words, Maël, who scored the equalizer and then the game-winning goal today, can make you lose all your minds, right? If the club asks you to express your position in front of the media now, you will definitely use the price of sending me to hell to express your interest in Maël!"
"Bang!" Xavi's emotions also exploded, his right fist slammed towards Fabregas, hitting him hard near the chest.
"Okay!!" Casillas rushed over immediately and hugged him away, and the others quickly came up and hugged Xiaofa, who was stunned in place, to prevent the two from fighting in the locker room.
In the crowd's pulling, Xavi's eyes also became moist due to extremely complicated feelings, pointing at Fabregas and shouting: "Why do you accuse us? How long have you been in Barcelona, how long have we been here!
"Who are you trying to impress by smashing things, who are you complaining to! Are you blaming the team for not using you, blaming us for being useless, for not taking you to win the league title, to win the European Cup?! I tell you Fabregas, this mentality of yours is destined for you to not succeed anywhere!"
Fabregas completely lost control, he rushed forward trying to critically strike Xavi, but was held back all the time, so he could only turn on the sprayer mode: "Yes, I am a waste, you bastards are also a bunch of wastes!
"A bunch of wastes staying together will lead to this kind of thing where they can't beat an 18-year-old kid! Don't be complacent just because you have achieved some results, Maël can put me in this situation, and one day he can make your little achievements seem insignificant! Keep laughing, see how many days you can still laugh!"
Fabregas broke free from the pulling of several people, or maybe his words hurt the people who were pulling him, and the others took the initiative to let go.
He straightened his sleeves in place, "I announce my permanent withdrawal from the Spanish national team! And I will leave Barcelona! I want to go back to the Premier League and finish the road I should take!"
"No one cares."
Xavi continued to be sarcastic, he also broke free from the pulling, and walked out while saying and waving his hand, "Since we have torn our faces, I will tell you, you can join Barcelona for the championship, and others can also invite Maël for the championship.
"Oh, by the way, we have a Champions League title and the miracle of the Annual 6th Crown.
"Maël will never get these if he doesn't come to a Spanish team, don't daydream, he just defeated you."
Fabregas looked at his back gloomily, and for a moment his hatred for Xavi and the Barcelona players surpassed Maël.
If he could make two wishes at this time, the first would be to let Maël crush Barcelona and snatch the Champions League from them, and break their Annual 6th Crown record, and slap these people in the face hard for him.
The second thing is to let Maël die immediately after winning all of this.
The argument stopped, but the locker room was completely messed up, and everyone's mood was even worse. They felt that nothing could be worse than this moment.
Barcelona players then walked out of the locker room together. Even Pique, who usually had a good relationship with Xiaofa, only took a special look at Xiaofa before leaving, and then left without looking back.
Fabregas calmed down and closed his eyes.
No matter how you put it, the pain at this moment has only one reason... He regretted it, regretted leaving Arsenal, leaving Wenger.
But having come to this point, he can only go all the way to the end.
He is going to take revenge, join this year's Champions League champion Chelsea, compete for the Premier League title and the Champions League title, and at the same time crush Maël and Barcelona!
"Endless Summer!"
Inside the stadium, the French Team players have reunited with their families. One small family after another is holding hands and singing the European Cup Theme Song together, and many people are dancing happily.
"Endless Summer!!"
It seems that there is only one color left between heaven and earth, that is the golden yellow that represents joy and glory.
Even the raindrops falling from the sky are stained with sweetness, washing away all the fatigue for the victorious warriors, allowing them to celebrate with their loved ones in a better state.
Maël first met with his uncle's family. He took Ava and others to take photos in front of the trophy, and from time to time looked at the player tunnel, hoping for Isabella's appearance.
Before long, Isabella, with her hands behind her back, appeared on the field, smiling sweetly and walking quickly.
Today, she is wearing a golden tight-fitting dress, which perfectly shows her slender figure. The lower body is a black split skirt and black high heels, and her slender and sexy legs can be seen from time to time when she walks.
"Wow!" Some French fans in the stands clapped their hands with a smile. They should know Isabella and saw what Isabella was holding behind her back.
Maël guessed that she might have something prepared, and stood there waiting.
Isabella approached him step by step, and couldn't help but congratulate him when she was about to reach him: "Champions! Congratulations, my boy! You are now a European champion!"
"Haha..." Maël spread his hands to hug her, but seeing that she was not in a hurry, she just raised her eyebrows and happily brought her hands to the front, holding something.
It was a medium-sized bouquet of roses. At first glance, they were fake flowers, but they were exquisitely made. The colorful petals made it look like a rainbow.
"For you."
Isabella handed the flowers to Maël's eyes, raised her chin and smiled brightly: "Do you know what this color of roses represents?"
Maël was stunned for a moment, and then endless satisfaction rose in his heart... He took the bouquet of flowers somewhat hastily, and shook his head slightly, "I don't know."
Looking at the lovely woman in front of him, he didn't know how to describe the happiness at this moment, so he stretched out his left hand and hugged her and the bouquet into his arms.
"Oh!" The teammates next to him booed when they saw this scene, and many people's eyes were filled with envy. Their girlfriends only brought one person in.
Isabella had long been accustomed to this kind of sound. She ignored it and explained to Maël with a cute look, "It's gorgeous and noble. I prepared it a long time ago because I knew what you would get today."
Maël took her arm, smiled brightly, tilted his head and kissed her, he forgot everything, just to feel the softness of Isabella's lips and the temperature of her breath.
Dopamine occupied his entire brain, and even caused some damage to his cerebellum, causing him to lose his footing. He didn't know if this was the feeling of being fainted by beauty.
If he only received a rose, he definitely wouldn't have any strong feelings, but at this moment it must be different! The documentary crew of Football Record quickly came to the two of them, pointed the camera at the two of them, and recorded the beauty of this moment.
Emilia and Peter were standing not far away. They couldn't help clapping their hands, and sweet smiles appeared on the corners of their mouths, which slowly turned into laughter.
Through the boss's happy appearance, they also more clearly realized their own wonderful mood today.
After a month of accumulation of countless materials and the recording of countless joyful scenes, it was finally not in vain and could be broadcast as scheduled! "How should it end?"
Emilia thought of this happy trouble, she felt that every scene of this European Cup was full of meaning, "It's hard to choose, why not use the scene of them kissing?"
"I think it couldn't be better."
Peter nodded slightly, looked at Maël hesitantly, and smiled after a long pause, "Even if Maël is not the boss of the newspaper, he is undoubtedly the most suitable person to appear at the beginning and the end.
"We have been with him all the way and know how dazzling he is in this French Team.
"Even the editing of the documentary should be based on his perspective, this is his journey of conquest."
"Yes."
Emilia smiled, the envy of Isabella in her eyes had faded a lot, maybe she slowly realized that a man like the boss was destined not to belong to someone like her.
Peter raised his head and finally breathed a sigh of relief, "We will sell the copyright all over Europe! And to the Americas! Even to the distant East!"
"Haha..." Emilia nodded with a smile, she also believed that this documentary would be popular all over the world.
"Ladies and gentlemen!"
A sonorous voice rang out in the arena, and a female host appeared on the podium.
She held the script in her hand, with a bright smile on her face, "The Poland and Ukraine European Cup has come to an end. At this last moment, let us present awards to the most outstanding players in this cup! There are 5 individual awards waiting to be awarded! Please invite the players from both sides to the stage with your warmest cheers!"
"..."
"Aahhh!" The French Team fans stood up and screamed, they knew that Maël's show was coming again.
This chosen one, who completed the terrifying data of 11 goals and 2 assists in this European Cup, will win at least 2-3 major awards! "Clang clang clang clang...!"
Off the field, French Team players represented by Giroud and Sagna sang Maël's Song, they surrounded Maël and came to the stage like knights escorting the king.
Isabella didn't plan to follow at first, standing in place proudly clapping her hands and waiting.
"Go, go!"
"You have to be with him."
But the members of the French Team's Wives Group came over, pushing her forward while making a fuss, wanting her to experience this glorious moment with Maël.
"Then go together?" Isabella was still a little hesitant, she saw that the others didn't mean to come forward, and was afraid that it would be bad for her to stand there alone.
"Haha...!"
The others laughed, many with envy on their faces, and many deliberately made exaggerated jealous expressions, "What are we going to do, our husbands didn't win any awards."
"Yes, yes, who do you think has your good luck."
"Alas, the men are not strong enough."
"Go ahead, Isabella! Tell him you cried with joy when he scored the Game-winning goal! Let him give you a trophy!"
"Haha...!"
Isabella was a little embarrassed by what they said, she was still a little hesitant, until she turned her head and saw Maël reaching out to her in the distance to invite her.
She ran forward with a smile, took Maël's hand, and stood by the stage.
Maël pinched her face and asked, "Guess how many I can get?"
"Five." Isabella raised her eyebrows in response, and like Maël himself, her confidence in Maël was absolute.
"Not that many." Maël laughed, but he wasn't sure how many he could get, so he couldn't give an exact answer.
He looked to the side and saw that only a few members of the Spanish team had come, one of whom was Iniesta, who was certain to win the Assists Leader award for this tournament, and the others were mostly Barcelona players.
He stopped looking and focused on the female host.
"The first award to be presented..."
The female host drew out her words, her eyes full of smiles sweeping across the stands, as if she knew what the atmosphere would be like after she said the next sentence.
"Is the Best Young Player award for this tournament! I don't think I need to say his name, tell me who it is!"
"."
"Oh!" The French Team fans cheered, and then helped the host shout out the name, "Maël!!"
"That's right!" The female host pointed to Maël with the script in her hand, making an inviting gesture, "Let's welcome the 2012 European Cup Best Young Player! Lionel Maël!!"
Maël stepped onto the podium. This should be the most unsurprising of the swing awards. The Tournament Best Player is basically a sure thing, not to mention being young.
Over the past two years, in terms of honor selection and record-breaking, he has almost removed the prefix 'young' that he often carried in the early days! He can challenge all peak players of the past and present, all records and honors! After receiving the commemorative trophy, Maël simply raised the trophy high to signal to the fans, and then went directly off the stage, without even giving an acceptance speech.
But there is still a sense of accomplishment. He can already foresee that after this, his trophy room will add a pile of trophies, and the overall look and feel will become more magnificent.
When all the replica trophies are made, he will go over and take a look at the three Championship Trophy he has accumulated this year, as well as the individual honors he has won in these three events! "The second award we are going to present is the Assists Leader award!"
The female host then turned her attention to the Spanish Team's lineup. This kind of data award certainly doesn't need to be kept in suspense. "Congratulations to Iniesta! He won this award with 4 assists!"
"Pa pa pa!"
Applause rang out, mostly from the generous French Team fans. The Spanish fans in the stadium had almost left at this moment.
Iniesta went to the stage to accept the award with a blank expression. After receiving the trophy, he didn't even lift it up, and went off the stage with his arms drooping, obviously not yet out of the sadness just now.
"Please wait a moment."
The host smiled and signaled them to wait a little longer, there should be other awards.
Although Iniesta and the Spanish Team players couldn't think of what it was, they still stood there waiting.
"The third is the Golden Boot Award."
The female host put on a mysterious smile again, and pointed her hand to the French Team's lineup, "Maël! I believe the whole world knows the answer, he won the Golden Boot in a record-breaking way!"
"Vamos!" The French Team players raised their arms and shouted at Maël, imitating his celebration movements, some people even touched their heads with one hand and their crotches with the other, jumping around.
They were all happy for Maël, using this way to bring good luck to the captain.
Maël took the stage again, this time he saw that there were two trophies on the tray held by a master of ceremonies.
"One is the Golden Boot Award, and the other is the Golden Boot Commemorative Trophy, which is mainly awarded to record holders."
The female host explained to him considerately, "This was established in '92, but in the past 20 years, no one has ever broken Platini's record, not even come close. You are the first to get it."
"Thank you, I am honored."
Maël naturally wouldn't mind having more trophies. After going up to express his gratitude, he held the two heavy trophies in his hands, playing with them.
Since then, the Golden Boot of the EFL Championship, Premier League, EFL Cup, and European Cup, he has collected them all! There's still the Champions League, FA Cup, World Cup, and European Golden Boot left, and then he will have completed the Grand Slam of Golden Boot awards!
This collection speed is quite fast!
Maël was in an exceptionally cheerful mood this time. He stood on the stage striking poses with the trophies for a long time, thinking about giving a few acceptance speeches, but the microphone was late in coming.
After glancing at the female host, she lowered her head apologetically and said, "Please wait a moment, there are still two awards to be presented."
"Oh." Maël also rubbed his hair awkwardly and quickly stepped down from the stage.
"Haha...!" His appearance amused the French fans and teammates in the venue, and even Isabella burst into laughter.
After Maël went down, he handed the trophies to his girlfriend, "Hold these for me. If that's the case, I should have at least one more."
"Is it possible to sweep them all?"
Isabella took the two trophies from his hand, but her slender hands were already having trouble holding the three trophies, so she had to hold one with her arm.
Maël shook his head and whispered, "I don't know. The organizers might compensate a Spanish player with the Finals Best Player award and give me the Tournament Best Player."
That's what he said, but sweeping four out of five major awards still seemed pretty exciting... He was looking forward to it a bit. Everything was still uncertain, so there was still a chance.
"The next award to be presented is the Finals Best Player award!"
This time, the female host was being coy, speaking very slowly, "This is a swing award. We know that both sides contributed their best performances in the final, so who should get it?"
Maël stared at her expectantly, his face showing anticipation. If he won this award, then his chances of sweeping four out of five would really be possible.
Iniesta's face showed no emotion, he was just waiting with a few close teammates.
The female host smiled mischievously, and finally raised her right hand high, "Lionel Maël! Congratulations!! His third major award of the tournament!" His performance in the final goes without saying, every goal he scored, even every touch of the ball, could make the headlines that night! Congratulations to him again!"
Maël's eyes lit up, and he quickly strode onto the podium, thoroughly enjoying the process of going back and forth.
It really was him! "Yeahhh!" Seeing their captain take the stage for the third time, the fans and players waved their arms. They had obviously also realized that since he had won the Finals Best Player, Maël might win four out of five.
On the other side, Iniesta and a group of Spanish players looked puzzled as they watched Maël go up.
What does this mean? Logically speaking, the fact that they were kept behind implied that they would definitely get one more award.
But now they didn't get the Finals Best Player, so was it the Tournament Best Player?
This was clearly unreasonable. Maël had 11 goals and 2 assists, averaging 2+ per game, plus the Championship Trophy. How could anyone else compete with him for the Best Player? Even if they gave it to them, they wouldn't dare to take it, for fear of being tortured by Maël's fans after waking up the next morning.
Could it be that there were no more?
Many people frowned, feeling like they were being played. They were already in a bad mood after losing the game. If there were no more awards, they should have just let them leave earlier. Why keep them here? To be a foil for Maël, or to leave some non-existent suspense for his sweep of four awards?
Iniesta and the others' faces darkened. They were already annoyed by Fabregas's madness in the locker room.
Some people turned around and left directly. Anyway, even if there was one, it would most likely fall on the shoulders of Xiaobai and Xavi. They didn't need to participate in this humiliating ceremony in their eyes.
"The last award is the Tournament Best Player award, which is awarded to the player with the most outstanding overall performance."
The female host noticed the Spanish team's abnormality and felt some pressure, which made her not dare to be coy anymore. She directly announced the winner, "It's still Lionel Maël! Our Best Player will have to take another trip!"
"With an average of 2.16 goals created per game, 5.2 excellent scoring opportunities created, 8 successful breakthroughs, and 1.9 threatening passes! "He has become the best-performing player in a single European Cup tournament in history! I think this will make people forget that he is still a young player, sweeping 4 awards in the Best Young Player period!"
"Aaahhh!!"
"Pa Pa Pa!!"
The shouts and applause from the scene were deafening, and the fans then sang the song they had sung not long ago, "Bullet-like deadly Long Shot and crazy Header! He"
Under the craze, Maël, bearing tens of thousands of admiring gazes, stepped onto the podium to receive his 4th personal award.
"Hoo!" He breathed out, unable to stop the smile on his face, 5 out of 4 really came.
This made him surprised and a little regretful. It would be great if he could win the Assists Leader as well, that would be a real sweep, an unprecedented achievement!
But he really couldn't, after reaching the top league, he gradually changed his way of playing, and began to be a scorer, sometimes playing a bit selfishly.
He failed to win the Assists Leader in the Premier League last season for this reason.
He can only say continue to work hard, continue to enhance his strength, so that he also has the ability to easily sweep the Shooter King and Assists Leader in top events! Next year, he will strive to win the Premier League Assists Leader back and achieve a Premier League Grand Slam. In the next European Cup, he will also win the Assists Leader back and achieve a European Cup Grand Slam! Don't think about these now, just enjoy the achievement of winning 4 awards in this competition! Including the imitation trophy and gold medal, an extra commemorative Golden Boot, his hall of fame will have 7 new things, this is what he has gained in this month.
He is very satisfied, and also strengthened his belief and confidence to continue walking.
This time it was finally his turn to give his acceptance speech. The host handed the microphone to his mouth, but he was a little speechless, and finally had to raise his arms with a red face, "Thank you!!"
After stepping down, looking at Isabella, who was holding four trophies and looking surprised, he spiritedly wrapped his arms around his girlfriend's neck and took her to the trophy for a group photo.
He also borrowed the gold medals from his teammates and hung them all around his neck, as if he had won dozens of medals at once.
"Vamos!!"
In front of the Henri Delaunay Trophy, Maël lay on his side like a mermaid, biting his gold medal in his mouth. In front of him were 5 commemorative trophies for personal awards, and beside him was Isabella in the same pose.
"Ka-cha, ka-cha...!"
Reporters from all over the world took photos and recorded them. Peter and Emilia looked at each other and had the idea of changing the ending of the documentary.
Under their carnival, several players from the Spanish Team walked towards the player tunnel with disappointment and resentment.
"Magical reverse Game-winning goal! Maël Brace, leading the French Team to win the 12 European Cup championship with 11 tournament goals!!" - BBC headline
"Won 4 awards! Create history! 18-year-old Maël played a record-breaking performance that most players can't play in their lives!" - Sky Sports headline
"Crush all doubts! The new French Battleship set sail! This time, we have the sharpest sword! Aiming at the 14 World Cup!" - L'Équipe headline with pictures
"I will look for some new challenges in my career, the Premier League is a good choice, I may go to London." - Benzema revealed in an interview "Chelsea are seeking a center forward, since Drogba left, they have been lacking a world-class center forward. After pursuing Maël has become impossible, Benzema is very likely to join the team." - London Evening Standard
"Guardiola wants to sell Ribery, it is rumored that Premier League giants Manchester United and Liverpool are interested in the player, and Chelsea also wants to join the competition!" - Munich Report
"Aren't you guys, Avengers Alliance?! . Of course, the main purpose of posting this is to congratulate Maël on winning the Annual 3rd Crown, an amazing player." - Alan Shearer social media
"(Stare) (Smile) (Red Anger) (White Phantom)!" - Bale social media
"Chi Chi Chi!"
In the French Team's locker room not long after, it was a mess, and the players sprayed champagne everywhere, and the people standing in the center couldn't even open their eyes.
Many people were drinking beer and singing, and the sticky wine inevitably spilled on them.
But at this moment, who would care, they just want to continue the carnival! "OhOhOh!!"
Sagna and several black players with a knack for dancing stood on the table, flailing their hands and doing a dance that resembled street dance but was actually nothing, all for the sake of having fun.
French President Hollande, along with Prime Minister Ayrault, Secretary-General Michel, and others, had arrived outside the door long ago, but seeing this scene inside, they didn't want to come in, only applauding.
Maël returned to the locker room and drank a lot of wine, half-lying and half-sitting in his seat, grinning foolishly as he rested. Halfway through his drink, he was pulled up by the others to dance in the middle.
"Champions!!"
"We are the champions!!"
Everyone gathered together, each with trembling feet and red faces, looking particularly excited.
"Ahem!"
Soon, Deschamps, who was also drunk, clapped his hands and said with a smile, "Let's have our captain, the hero of the championship, Maël, say a few words! Tell us how he feels about winning four extra awards!"
"Come on, come on...!"
"We were just wanting to hear it!"
Maël reluctantly came to the table, smiling as he stood in front of the Henri Delaunay Trophy, thinking about what to say.
He certainly wasn't going to start with himself, but rather with the entire team.
Everyone met here and spent a wonderful summer together. It was a rare fate, and they also left a rich and colorful mark on each other's careers.
This experience must be unforgettable, so he really wanted to make some summaries.
When everyone leaned against the table, he rested one arm on the Henri Delaunay Trophy and raised one hand, "Although each of us will embark on different paths in the future.
"But from this moment on, everything about us will be closely linked to this trophy.
"What I want to say is that this has to do with everyone here. From tonight on, we are all different beings.
"Do you know why?"
His voice paused here. Before this, he had been speaking very steadily, until at this moment his emotions suddenly rose, and he shouted as he quickly raised the Henri Delaunay Trophy, "Because we are European champions!!"
"Yeahhh!!" Everyone in the locker room clapped the table and shouted with a smile. Their cheers gathered together, giving this small place a sense of sonic boom.
"Bang bang bang!" Maël also closed his eyes and excitedly patted the table. He could hear everyone's shouts and would firmly imprint their voices at this moment in his heart.
The players then hugged each other again, jumping and spinning in circles, with no intention of stopping the celebration.
At the door, Michel smiled and shrugged at Hollande, "I still want to play with his gold medal, let's wait until we get back to France."
"I think so too." Hollande shook his head slightly, and said with a smile, "It's hard to get through this door today."
Behind them, Wenger and Mendes exchanged glances, also feeling that this was the case. Those words hidden in their hearts, let's say them later, let Maël get drunk today.
At 2:39 a.m., Maël returned to the hotel accompanied by Isabella, and fell asleep as soon as he got back, even forgetting the promised revelry.
At one o'clock the next afternoon, all the members of the French Team boarded the plane back to France. Most of them had not yet recovered from the alcohol, and fell asleep again on the plane.
Maël was one of them, but he felt that just as he had fallen asleep, a huge roar rang out from beside him.
"Buzz buzz buzz!!"
The passenger plane trembled as if it had encountered turbulence, but it was clear that these vibrations came from a sound outside the window.
He sleepily looked out the window, only to see a fighter jet-like plane appear before him. The pilot, wearing a white helmet, happened to be looking towards them and picked up the intercom.
"You have entered French airspace!"
The announcement sounded from inside the plane, full of energy but very friendly, "Thank you for your heroic performance in the European Cup! We, representing the French Air Force, are here to escort you!!"
"Oh!" The French players in the plane reacted, all proudly waving their arms, and many laughed.
This was the plane Mr. Hollande sent to bring them home, the highest honor! Maël smiled knowingly, truly experiencing this in a football kingdom, a special feeling.
Not long after the fighter jets escorted them, the plane slowly landed at Paris International Airport and taxied on the runway, gradually slowing down.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"
As it passed between two black marker blocks, jets of water suddenly shot up from both sides, crossing in the air, and raindrops quickly fell from the sky, blurring the entire window.
This was also a form of the highest welcoming ceremony, Passing Through the Water Gate, representing welcoming and cleansing those who came here!
Five minutes later, under the gaze of dozens of reporters, the plane's door slowly opened, and a figure appeared there.
"Click click click...!" Many people started pressing the shutter in advance, afraid of missing any important moment.
At the door of the cabin, Maël, with a backpack and sunglasses, walked out with a smile. He held the Henri Delaunay Trophy in his hands, showing it to everyone as he exited.
"Click click click...!" The reporters didn't have time to cheer and quickly took photos to record the moment.
Maël in the lens had a face full of triumphant joy. As the captain, he took the lead off the plane with the trophy in a glorious manner. This was the team's, especially Deschamps', affirmation and support for his performance!
...
Half an hour later, in front of the Arc de Triomphe, tens of thousands of French fans crowded the streets along the main road, waiting for the heroes to return.
"￥@#!￥!"
It was noisy here. Even though everyone was speaking softly, there was still a feeling of commotion.
Some of them had arrived here two hours ago, standing all the time, with no place to rest their feet, but they had no complaints.
Because the people they were welcoming had also brought them honor and joy!
"Buzz...!" At this moment, a cloud-piercing and earth-shattering vibration sounded, shaking the ground slightly and making people's hearts excited.
They knew it should be coming!
"Buzz buzz buzz!" As the vibration grew louder and the ground shook more violently, people quickly saw nine planes pulling red, white, and blue smoke trails roaring in.
They passed over the Arc de Triomphe, bringing an extremely shocking scene.
"Aaahhhh!!" Tens of thousands of people cheered at the scene, everyone's excitement reaching its peak. They craned their necks and looked towards the end of the street, where the parade float should be coming! They guessed right. These nine planes were to clear the way for the European Cup winners! On the Champs-Élysées Avenue, a blue bus slowly drove, carrying the French players in white and Deschamps and a group of assistant coaches in suits.
They came on a bus with the 'champions' logo, and the Gallic Rooster team logo.
"Wow!!" The emotions at the scene completely reached a climax, and the fans cheered ecstatically, releasing smoke bombs and fireworks in their hands, lighting up the entire street.
In the very center of the bus, people saw the young captain Maël holding the trophy. He held the Henri Delaunay Trophy and waved his arms constantly, showing everyone the results they had achieved this time.
"Clang clang clang clang...!"
This was exactly what the fans wanted to see. Excited, they sang the purest Maël's Song, "I have a friend! He dances the swan dance on the defensive line and drives a Bugatti on the sideline.!"
"Ah!" Many French girls and young women screamed with red faces. They were not only conquered by Maël's skills but also by Maël's face.
On the bus, Maël watched the fervent fans below, smiling as he handed the trophy to Deschamps beside him, and took out his Golden Boot Award and Tournament Best Player award.
He rarely came back here, and had never played football in Paris. Seeing the Parisian fans and some crazy fans at this moment, he felt very curious, and also had the urge to greet them with all the trophies.
"EiEiEi!"
Soon, he and the French Team players waved their fists shoulder to shoulder. Many fans followed the rhythm, jumping wildly with them, and this street was completely swallowed by joy.
The revelry continued for half an hour, until the team bus entered the Élysée Palace.
Maël was still the first to get off the bus. He saw a long red carpet laid out to the bottom of the bus stairs. At the far end of the red carpet, Michel, with a serious expression, was waiting for him.
On both sides were the Republican Cavalry Guard. Even though their horses were sometimes a little disobedient, they still maintained basic formation, carrying a sword on their right shoulders.
The experiences of this day dazzled Maël, and also made him truly appreciate the benefits and glory of achieving great success.
He walked forward, stepping on the red carpet to Michel's side, with the others neatly lined up behind him.
"Swish!" Eighteen cavalrymen pointed their blades forward together, then suddenly swung them down, to the right side of their bodies, looking very imposing.
"Mr. Maël."
Michel stepped forward, accompanied by a master of ceremonies, "We represent the Republic! We congratulate you and award you the Legion of Honour Medal!"
Maël smiled as he watched him personally pin it on him. He happened to recall the medal that Isabella had once given him.
Time really flies so fast. After winning the European Cup, everything about him would be different.
ps: The next chapter should smooth out the next volume, and then write the next volume. There is still a lot of material, and the characters are almost out, including the return of Gilbert, who has been foreshadowed all the time. There are many things to write, and it will not be boring.
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