Chapter 20 The Drums in the Parc Des Princes!
On November 6th, the war is imminent, and the whole of Paris is like a powder keg, which will explode at one point.
Everyone is holding back their energy. For Paris, they lost to Liverpool in the first round, and now it is their revenge.
In the training base, Yi Le and others sat in a row, waiting for Boas to explain the game tactics.
Today's Boas is different from the sloppy image of the past, and he dresses himself extremely capable.
The stubble on the chin was completely shaved, and the messy hair was neatly arranged with pomade. Moreover, this guy was wearing a straight suit with a tie, and there was a handkerchief in the breast pocket of the suit, the most coquettish What is handkerchief folded into a fancy shape.
Boas maintained his personality, smiled gently, patted the blackboard and said:
"Gentlemen, this is our tactical arrangement for this game!"
Yi Le and the others shuddered subconsciously. Now Boas felt as if he was going to come out.
Boas explained the tactics on it, while Neymar pulled the chair forward, sat next to Yi Le, and whispered: "Boss, what's the matter?"
Yi Le looked at Boas suspiciously, shook his head and said, "I don't know, it seems to be stimulated."
"Because of Klopp?"
Yi Le nodded and said, "It should be him!"
Neymar glanced at Boas again and said, "He never wears a suit, and the suit is too clean. I'm not used to it. Is this a gentleman?"
"Fucking gentleman!"
Jinpembe on the side scolded softly: "That's not the case for a gentleman. I have a friend. Their family used to be aristocrats, but now they are in decline, but the habits of nobility have not been thrown away. It is a kind of temperament from the inside out. It's not something that can be supported by clothes alone, the boss doesn't feel like a gentleman to me, but..."
Jin Pengbei said with a constipated face, "Comrade!"
Hearing this, Yi Le and Neymar looked at each other and nodded slowly.
"Kimpembe!"
Boas' gentle voice sounded, and Kimpembe subconsciously shouted, "Boss, I'm here!"
Kim Pembe got up and stood there stiffly.
Boas chuckled at him and said, "Don't be nervous, I'll tell you a story!"
"In a family, a boy was bullied by his brother. Have you ever heard a similar story?"
Jin Pengbei Zhang Er was puzzled, but still nodded and said; "The elder brother bullies the younger brother, this is also very common in real life!"
Boas said quietly: "Then...is it the younger brother who bullies others?"
Kimpembe blinked...
"Kimpembe, how old are you?"
"Report, I am 23 years old and I feel energetic!"
"Oh~~~~" Boas grinned and said, "Wag, how old are you?"
The Senegalese boy didn't know what he meant, so he could only say honestly; "Boss, I'm 19 years old!"
Boas nodded and smiled: "Very good, I hope you can learn more about Liverpool's Arnold, the 19-year-old Parisian starter, this may become a good talk!"
After saying this, Boas casually glanced at Kimpembe.
Only then did Kimpembe realize that Boas was warning himself.
And... this shit is blatant revenge.
This guy definitely heard the conversation just now.
But... just scare me for the hair.
easy?
What about Neymar?
Kim Pembe turned his head and saw Yi Le and Neymar staring at each other, as if he hadn't said a word.
Kim Pembe was about to cry.
Honest man, you deserve to be bullied!
The tactical lesson did not last long. Liverpool and Paris are very familiar with each other, and they generally know how to play. The so-called tactics are just choices based on some small routines.
…
Time passed by little by little, and night fell.
The neon lights of the entire Paris metropolis are shining, and it is as bright as day near the Parc des Princes.
this game,
The Paris police dispatched many people to maintain order in the arena.
In the first round of the game, neither of them was very convinced, and it was easy to misfire and cause conflicts.
Moreover, England fans are notoriously bad-tempered, and this Paris fans are not a good stubble.
In order to avoid fights and fights, the on-site supervision has been further strengthened.
Starting at 4 o'clock, fans from both sides began to enter the stadium singing their respective team songs.
About an hour later, the entire arena was filled with cheers from Parisian fans.
The Paris fans responded well to Yi Le's expectations, and they blocked all the voices of the Liverpool fans.
This is their home ground, and there is no room for other cheers at the Parc des Princes.
This is a holy place that all Parisians need to guard!
"This is Paris!!"
"This is Paris!!"
"We are PSG! Victory and glory will be ours!"
"We are elegant, pure and brave Paris Saint-Germain!!"
The blue-black ocean was churning, the huge Paris team flag was shaking with the wind, and the fireworks in the east stand had begun to bloom, adding passion to the game.
"Welcome!! Welcome to Paris Saint-Germain! This is the Parc des Princes, please respond to me with the loudest voice and your desire to win!"
boom! ! ! ! ! ! !
Wow! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
In the old Monet's passionate shouts, the entire stands boiled, and the Parisian fans shouted frantically.
"I just received the starting rosters of both teams, and I will call out every player's name."
"Liverpool first, goalkeeper - Alisson!!"
Shh~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Defender-Van Dijk!!!"
Shhh~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Mane!!!"
"Firmino!!"
"Salah!!"
With the appearance of every Liverpool player's name, the Paris fans will boo to their heart's content, trying to overwhelm each other in momentum.
Liverpool's away fans tried their best to influence some, but they were so weak that they were not opponents of the huge base of Paris fans.
After introducing Liverpool, it was Paris Saint-Germain's turn.
Parisian fans can't wait.
The big screen suddenly lit up, and a young figure appeared on it. Seeing this figure, the Paris fans began to shout unconsciously.
Wow! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
"Respond to him with your greatest enthusiasm and pious shouts, the eternal No. 21 of Paris Saint-Germain, our beloved king! The super midfielder of Paris!"
Old Monet blushed and shouted in non-standard Chinese: "Yi!!!!!! Le!!!!!!"
boom! ! ! boom! ! ! boom! ! !
The sudden sound of the drum came from the stand of diehard fans. Bi Yalong and dozens of people stood in front of the big drum, beating rhythmically.
Ever since they played against the Chinese team, they have fallen in love with this domineering musical instrument.
I heard that the Chinese call it the 'War Drum'!
It's a great name.
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