"Janu Hans' pass! Sheffield United has broken through Portsmouth's defense. Their defense on the left flank today can be described as a mess, and the last goal conceded was also due to this! Maël takes the ball! He's in, can he get a shot off?!"
The Sky Sports commentator in the stadium stood up with the fans, observing the situation on the field. "The best way to handle this ball is with a push shot using the instep, a close-range shot, ensuring the ball rolls steadily into the far corner."
"But when it comes to Maël, it's hard to say. We all know he likes to solve things with a cannon!"
Just as he finished speaking, Maël took a small step to the side, stretching his body into a preparatory motion for a long shot.
No push shot!
This pre-motion has already told everyone that he is going to blast the ball towards the goal! "A *brutal long shot*! Asdang has no chance, the ball is in!! Three to zero, Maël welcomes his second goal of the day!! He played it so wonderfully, I even felt the style of Batistuta from him, this is a typical Batistuta goal!! He really dares to shoot from such a close distance! He really dares to blast it!!"
On the football field, as Maël heavily nailed the ball into the side netting, the scene once again erupted into boiling.
"Yeah!" The fans' shouts resounded through the sky, more people stood up to celebrate, and Gareth Speed even threw three punches in a row on the sidelines.
However, what was unexpected was that Michael Brown, who had just returned to chase back, pretended to be unable to stop and heavily collided into Maël from behind.
Maël didn't expect this situation. He was still thinking about the celebration, but suddenly suffered an impact.
His body fell forward uncontrollably, and the joy and excitement of scoring a brace instantly turned into anger.
No need to look, anyone could guess who bumped him.
He quickly stood up after supporting himself on the ground, turned his head and walked directly towards Michael Brown.
At this time, he wouldn't consider whether he had a card or not. Since Michael Brown wasn't worried, then he wasn't worried either.
"Go back to your mother's womb, you old mudfish!"
He poured all his strength into pushing Michael Brown, who only staggered a few steps under the defense. "Are you even a man? If you had even a shred of shame, you wouldn't be a bitch on the field!"
Soon someone came to pull him, trying to take him away from the scene. He didn't care at first, and was still charging towards Michael Brown's direction.
It wasn't until he saw Gilbert also coming to pull him, seeing the deep heaviness and hatred in the other's eyes, that his gaze was diverted.
"Gilbert, play well."
Maël was worried that Gilbert would retaliate later, bearing the risk of suspension. "It's not worth paying a big price for this kind of rascal. We will be the victors."
The referee rushed over blowing his whistle at this time. In order to prevent the situation from escalating, the linesman near this side also rushed into the field.
Michael Brown began to play dumb, he made an innocent look, spread his hands and stood in place, not arguing with anyone.
"Give him a yellow card, otherwise I will definitely appeal to The FA!"
Gareth Speed shouted loudly from the sidelines, almost rushing into the field. "Wait for the suspension letter!"
The fans also noticed that something was wrong at this time, slowly stopped cheering, and replaced it with boos and insults. Thousands of arms pointed to Michael Brown and the referee.
It can be clearly seen that the referee's face was full of pressure and hesitation.
He walked towards Michael Brown and Maël several times, but did not take out a card.
When the best time to show the card had passed, he lowered his head and walked towards the center circle, giving a silent final decision.
"Boo! Boo!!"
The dissatisfaction at the scene almost drowned the entire stadium. Gareth Speed's complaints disappeared in the noise. People could only see him constantly waving his hands, spitting and cursing something.
No follow-up, this conflict ended like this.
The calmed down Maël stood on the left side of the center circle, he glanced at Michael Brown from time to time.
No, he wasn't calm. This matter, in his heart, was not over yet.
"Beep!"
When the referee blew the whistle to start the game again, when the Portsmouth center forward kicked off from the center circle.
Maël clearly noticed that Gilbert rushed up at an unusual speed, all the way past the midfield position, rushing towards the area where the forward was.
"Bang!" The Portsmouth full-back passed the ball to Michael Brown at this time, who turned around after receiving the ball and was observing.
Gilbert suddenly accelerated, the target was very clear, not the ball under Brown's feet, but Brown.
Maël's eyes suddenly widened, knowing what was about to happen there, he took a breath to shout, but it was too late, Gilbert had already kicked out.
"Sizzle!" It was a very vicious scissor-leg slide tackle. Gilbert's legs clamped down hard on Brown's leg, sending the latter flying almost instantly, a bodily instinct to evade.
When Brown landed again, he felt a sharp pain in his ankle, his entire foot losing sensation.
"Ah!" A miserable scream echoed throughout the stadium. The 'tough guy' from just now clutched his ankle, his face contorted in pain, almost bursting into tears.
Maël was stunned in place, even forgetting to breathe. The entire stadium fell into a second or two of silence.
"BEEP!!" The referee's whistle was particularly piercing. Only then did people react to what had just happened.
"Oh!" Some people held their heads, shocked by Gilbert's choice.
"Good tackle!" Someone gritted their teeth, pointing at Brown and cursing, while praising Gilbert.
"It's not a red card foul!" Others pleaded for Gilbert in advance, waving their hands frantically.
The Portsmouth team doctor quickly entered the field, their players surrounding Michael Brown, asking about his condition.
The Sheffield United players mostly surrounded the referee, advising him not to issue a red card, claiming Gilbert didn't do it intentionally.
But whether Gilbert was intentional or not, anyone could see.
"You, off!"
The referee ultimately issued a red card without hesitation, ruling Gilbert off the field with a straight red, "Let's wait for The FA's investigation and ruling."
Gilbert had expected this. From the moment he stood up, he had no intention of staying on the field. He turned and walked directly towards the player tunnel.
Disrupting the celebration of his brothers, and causing trouble?
Then he must be tackled.
This matter started with him and ended with him.
He walked away freely, without looking back or speaking to anyone.
Michael Brown was eventually carried off on a stretcher, and Portsmouth replaced him with a midfielder.
At the same time, Gareth Speed, out of protective intentions, directly substituted Maël.
"I want to go back to the locker room and see him."
Maël asked Gareth Speed for permission. After receiving it, he went back to the locker room through the player tunnel ahead of time.
Gilbert was sitting alone in the corner, taking off his shoes. Seeing him come in, he smiled brightly: "You want to say I was impulsive? Or that I have no professional ethics, ruining someone else's career? I don't think so. If he stayed on the field, we'd both be at risk. It would be fine if I got injured, but if you got injured because of this, or you retaliated and got suspended, I'd feel even worse."
He said what he had prepared, hoping to get Maël's approval for his actions.
But Maël shook his head, walked over, and sat down next to him, "I didn't want to say those things. If I had to comment... I'd say, you were very cool just now."
Very cool?
Gilbert looked up and smiled.
Maël put one hand on his shoulder, quietly waiting for the game to end.
After this tackle, their relationship became different from before. This would be a new stage.
ps: Ten Hag's post-match comments are so rebellious.
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